CHAPTER 81
Caleb tried to mount his horse, but his leg gave way, sending him crashing into the dirt. He let out a roar of frustration, punching the ground as his blood stained the forest floor.
He was the Prince of Death, a commander of thousands, and yet he was being held back by his own broken body while something bad might had happened to his heart that was leagues away.
"Move," he hissed to himself, dragging his body upward by clutching the horse's stirrup. "Move, damn you!"
Isabella reached out, her hands hovering over his wounds. She wanted to heal him, to push him, to tell him that every second he wasted was another lash on Bella's back.
But she could only watch as he finally hauled himself into the saddle, his face white with agony, and turned the horse back toward the capital.
The vision blurred again, the forest dissolving into the suffocating stone of the castle's deepest bowels.
