Brute 292

Chapter 292 

Atasha’s POV 

“Grace-” 

Her hand closed around my throat before the name could fully leave my mouth. 

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It was not a desperate grab from someone confused and terrified, nor was it a weak clutch of a woman who had been unconscious moments ago. 

Her fingers locked in with strength that did not match her frame, the pressure cut my air off so fast that my lungs seized before I could even gasp. 

Her face was inches from mine. 

Grace’s mouth curved into a smile that looked practiced, almost amused, and the red in her eyes held me in place with a hunger that made my healing flare under my skin like it was trying to crawl away. 

My hands flew to her wrist. I tried to pry her off, but her grip did not loosen. Her thumb pressed into the side of my throat, and my vision started to blur at the edges. 

Then steel flashed. 

King Xylas moved so fast that I barely registered the motion before his blade came down and cut across Grace’s hand. 

The slash was clean enough to force her fingers to open. Blood sprayed against my collar and the stone behind me, her grip broke at last. Air flooded back into my lungs in a harsh, painful pull that made my throat burn. 

Grace stumbled half a step, not from pain, but from surprise. The way she looked at her own bleeding hand made my stomach twist because she did not react like Grace. 

She stared at the wound as if it was interesting. 

Then she lifted her gaze to me again and smiled wider. 

My chest tightened so hard that breathing felt wrong for a different reason now. 

No. 

It did not make sense. It did not fit. It did not belong. 

Grace had been dragged here with us. Grace had been unconscious. Grace had been one of the few things in this cave that still felt real and human. 

I took a step toward her without thinking, even as my throat throbbod. 

“Grace,” I tried again, my voice cracked. “It’s me.” 

Her head tilted. 

Saliva slipped from the corner of her mouth and trailed down her chin as if her body could not keep up with whatever appetite sat behind her smile. 

She licked her lips slowly, the movement too calm for the situation, and then she moved 

She lunged. 

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Chapter 292 

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Her hand flashed up toward my face, fingers hooked as if she meant to tear into my eyes or rip my mouth open, and I jerked back on instinct, but my feet did not move the way they should have because my mind refused to treat her as an enemy. 

I could fight. 

I knew I could. 

I had fought monsters. I had fought men wearing monsters. I had fought until my bones broke and my healing burned through me just to keep me standing. 

But my body hesitated anyway because the shape coming for me was Grace. 

Because if I struck too hard, if I drove steel into her, if I snapped her arm the way I would have snapped anyone else’s, I would not be able to take it back. 

King Xylas stepped between us again. 

His blade lifted, angling not for a killing cut, but for control. He slashed toward Grace’s forearm to force her back. 

Grace twisted away with speed that made my stomach drop. 

The cut still caught her, opening a line of red along her skin. She did not even flinch as she darted around the King’s guard with a movement too fast for someone human, and her other hand shot out toward my shoulder. 

It was not deep, but it burned, and the sting triggered my healing immediately, heat surging to seal the scratch even as my heart hammered harder. 

She came again. 

Her body kept moving in short bursts, sudden shifts, angles that were meant to confuse, meant to make a target freeze and miss the timing of defense. She swiped at my face. Then, she tried to hook her fingers into my ribs. She tried to grab my hair and yank me down the way Rio had done earlier. 

Each time I flinched away, my arms rising, my feet stepping back, but I still did not strike her the way I should have. 

I kept trying to see Grace inside those red eyes. 

I kept searching her face for something that would break the illusion, something that would prove this was only a disguise like Rio’s vessel had been, something that would let me hate her without guilt. 

But it was Grace’s face. It was Grace’s mouth smiling at me with that wet hunger. 

My world felt like it was caving in from the inside. 

“How,” I whispered. “How could you-” 

Grace’s answer was a sound that was almost a laugh, except it did not carry warmth or humor. It sounded like something pleased that I was still alive long enough to be afraid. 

She lunged again, faster, and her hand went for my throat like she remembered where to grab. 

Xylas stepped in and blocked her with his forearm, then shoved her back with a harsh push that sent her stumbling into the rock wall. 

She hit hard enough to leave a smear of blood. 

She bounced off it like it did not matter. 

The King’s eyes flicked to me, his mouth tightening. “Do not stand there,” he snapped under his breath. “Move.” 

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Chapter 292 

I tried. 

My feet shifted, but my gaze stayed stuck on Grace like I could force her to return by staring hard enough. 

Grace attacked again, and this time she did not aim for me first. 

She went for the King’s sword arm. 

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Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, and her other hand came up as if she meant to wrench the blade from him or break the joint entirely. Xylas twisted and cut for her shoulder, forcing her to let go, but she did not retreat far. She stayed close enough to strike again, and her smile never faded. 

The ground shook beneath us. 

Not a small tremor, but a rolling jolt that made pebbles jump and dust pour from cracks above. The noise from the clearing grew louder, closer, as if the beasts surging out of the core were spreading through the tunnels like floodwater. 

A harsh cry echoed somewhere beyond the stone curve that hid us. 

Then another answered. 

And another. 

My stomach dropped. I could hear how many there were, I could hear how quickly they were moving, and I knew that hiding would not last. 

Behind us was the surge. 

In front of us was Grace. 

And Grace did not behave like someone we could knock aside and run past, because every movement she made was meant to keep me pinned here, meant to keep my focus on her, meant to keep me trapped. 

Another tremor hit. 

The alcove trembled. Dust blew into my eyes. The stone under my boots shifted slightly, enough to throw my balance off for half a second. 

Grace used that half second. 

She darted forward and swiped at my throat again. Her nails caught skin. Pain flashed. Heat surged to seal it. I stumbled back, choking on my own breath. Then she smiled as if she enjoyed the taste of my fear more than my blood. 

Xylas slammed the flat of his blade into her shoulder with enough force to make a normal person collapse. 

Grace only staggered, then snapped her head back toward him with a look that made my skin tighten. She went for him again with a speed that forced him to retreat a step. 

The King’s breathing came heavier. He had been stabbed minutes ago. He had been vomiting blood under the pressure. My healing had sealed the hole in his chest, but it had not replaced the blood he had lost or the strain his body had endured. 

Grace saw it. 

Her head tilted slightly, her red eyes shifting from me to the King. She did not rush blindly this time. She adjusted 

Then she moved. 

She feinted toward me, forcing my shoulders to tense and my weight to shift, and in that same motion she spun low and 

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10:04 Thu, Feb 19 MO 

Chapter 292 

drove her elbow into Xylas’s ribs. 

The impact landed exactly where he had been stabbed earlier. 

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The sound that left him was not a cry but a forced breath punched out of his lungs. His guard dipped for a fraction of a second. 

That fraction was enough. 

Grace’s hand shot up and seized his collar. With strength that should not have belonged to her, she twisted and slammed her forehead into his face. The crack of bone against bone echoed in the alcove. 

The King staggered back. 

She did not let him recover. 

Her knee drove into his abdomen, folding him forward. Then she grabbed his sword arm with both hands and wrenched sideways. 

I heard the strain in the joint. 

Xylas tried to counter, tried to pivot, but his footing slipped on loose stone as another tremor rolled through the cave. The surge outside roared louder, closer, as if the beasts were already flooding the tunnels. 

Grace shoved him hard. 

The King’s back hit the rock wall with a heavy thud, and before he could regain balance she kicked his legs out from under him. 

He fell. 

The sword clattered from his grip and skidded across the stone. 

“Xylas!” I lunged forward. 

Grace moved faster. 

She stepped over him and drove her heel down into his chest, pinning him to the ground. Her weight pressed directly over the wound I had sealed. He tried to rise, but the force held him there. 

Her fingers curled as if she meant to tear his throat out next. 

Rage finally broke through my hesitation. 

“Grace, stop!” 

She looked at me. 

Then slowly, he lifted her foot from the King’s chest, but not because she was sparing him. She stepped back only enough to turn fully toward me, leaving Xylas coughing on the ground, struggling to pull air back into his lungs. 

Another tremor shook the alcove. Dust rained down between us, The roars outside multiplied, layered, closer now. 

Grace took one step toward me. 

Then another. 

There was no rush in her movements anymore. No frantic lunges. No wild swipes. 

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Chapter 292 

She approached like she had already won. 

My back hit stone again. 

There was nowhere else to go. 

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The surge roared behind the wall. The tunnel trembled. The King was on the ground, trying to push himself up, his sword out of reach. 

Grace stopped two steps away from me. 

Her lips curved. 

Blood still ran down her hand where Xylas had cut her earlier, but the wound was already closing, skin knitting together with that same unnatural speed I had seen in Rio. 

The resemblance hit me like a blow. 

The red in her eyes burned brighter. “You’re mine now…” she grinned. 

AD