25
Dryas
Everything else falls away. In that heart-racing moment, there are only three people in the entire world. Me, Rue, and Henrick.
I lunge toward Henrick and Rue, desperate to free her. Henrick holds Rue close, lifting her onto her tiptoes by pressing the knife upward into her smooth white throat. A little trickle of her bright red blood escapes from a nick he makes.
I start seeing red, with the exact same color and pulsing material rhythm as Rue’s blood. It saturates my vision, swims around my head and makes thinking clearly that much more difficult.
“I would not do that if I were you,” Henrick says, grinning. “Then again, perhaps I am doing you a favor by slitting her throat. It will save you being shocked later when she betrays you. Is that not right, Rue? You women are alway
