Chapter 18: Desperate Measures

Lonny limped across the threshold of the master bedroom. The blood had somewhat clotted on his ribs but the shallow knife wounds still caused him to grimace with discomfort. He didn’t even want to consider the state his face must be in. He’d not expected that kind of rage from the other man.

The sword he’d forgotten he was still holding onto, fell from his weakening grip to the marble floor with a deafening clang. He winced against the sound as he tried to sort through the disastrous events that transpired this evening.

Now that his adrenaline had worn off, fatigue and heartbreak quickly stole over him. Not bothering to clean himself up, especially not with a shattered wrist, he carefully unbuttoned his shirt with one hand. It was ruined with knife tears and blood. He flinched with every movement, not able to shrug it off. He gave up.

Lonny collapsed on his massive bed.

Had he lost his mind? What the hell had been thinking? He answered the question for himself: he’d not.