Beyond the Crimson (The Crimson Cycle) by Danielle Martin Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

“Over 700 years, I think,” I answered, unsure of the exact year he had existed in.
    His eyes widened. “Seven hun—” He put his hand up to his hair again, gripping it tightly then running it down to the back of his neck. “Seven hundred … years?” he stuttered out as if it were a foreign language. He started breathing deeply, looking as though he were about to have a panic attack. I saw his body tremble slightly; his eyes focused somewhere else, and he shook his head turning from me, blinking rapidly as he stared into the nothingness of the floor. His hand drifted from his neck and clenched into a tight ball at his side. “All of them are gone,” he muttered under his breath.
    “Who?”
    His head jolted back at me like he was surprised I was even there. “Nobody,” he murmured. His hand clutched at his stomach, and he turned his grief-stricken face up towards the ceiling almost as though he were looking for an escape, shifting on his feet and keeping his deep breathing in a steady pattern. Though a large part of me was still fearful he might attack, I could not pull my eyes away from him. The force was magnetic and a part of me yearned to get closer.
    “W—why did she curse you?” I stammered out, desperate to understand him.
    “I know nothing of her mind,” he growled, giving me an annoyed look, but there was blankness in his eyes and suddenly a new fear was born; the dumbfounded haze cleared, and I realized he might not remember anything at all. He seemed utterly confused and rapidly the anxiety began to rise.
    “Do you remember anything?” I asked; my voice rising as panic trounced over my usual calm nature. He had to remember something; I had to know the secret behind the smile! But he only shook his head with the angry scowl still upon his face, and I felt myself shatter.  
    “In the portrait you were smiling,” I blurted out, frantically hoping to trigger a memory. I had to know his secret! It was tormenting me, and I was too close to uncovering it to let it escape me.
    He low ered one eyebrow presumptuously. “Smiling?” he derided. He was awfully good at making people feel insignificant, and I was certain it was in part of his noble upbringing, but it was still galling and nothing like I had imagined a knight to be.
    “Yeah, in the portrait you were grinning, but it doesn’t make sense to grin while going into battle , so why would you smile?”
    “Is it not obvious?” he scoffed. “I was to take her life , and I would hardly call such a battle .”
    “So you do remember something,” I said with renewed enthusiasm, but his eyes burned into me, fizzling my excitement to smoke with only dread seeming to be incombustible.
    I was certain his unwavering glare was enough to make even the manliest of men cower , and it wasn’t until he appeared to be satisfied that he had dissolved me into nothing more than ash, did he release me from the power of it, and I couldn’t help the large part of me that despised him for it. He gave an irritatingly smug look, lifted his head to examine the high shelves, and began to strut down the long hall, but before he could get too far, his body jerked awkwardly as he suddenly came to a dead stop, looking to have hit a wall. He tried to push his foot forward, but it would go no further. He groaned and slowly turned back around to face me. “It would seem I am bound to you,” he said gruffly, tilting his head upward as though he were cursing the ceiling-covered sky.
    He motioned for me to step forward, but I hadn’t forgotten the way he had made me feel , and as the power switched hands, clout outweighed courtesy, and I took a step back, putting a test to his claim. His body jolted towards me, and I almost laughed, but his face turned so wicked; I gulped instead. 
    “Stop that,” he warned, glaring at me with reproach. I didn’t like the imperious way he looked at me and stubbornly took another step back, ridiculously thrusting his body forward again