A loud bang vibrated Scott's ears, and he looked up just in time to see the bullet puncture the girl's forehead. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, as his eyes stayed on the girl. He heard screams louder than the gunshot pierce the air, eating untensils clattering against plates as people fell to the ground out of the line of potential fire. Scott sat, frozen, as the bullet exited her skull and embedded itself in the wall behind her. Brain matter and blood spattered against the tan paint with it. Her name was Abigail, he thought, as her body slumped backward, completely dead.
Something slammed into him, knocking himself and his chair to the floor. Suddenly, everything was back to a normal speed and volume. He wanted to react, to scream for the dead girl who hadn't gotten to do so herself. He could only stare at the red liquid that had slid down the walls, dribbling onto the marble floor, however, the noise stuck in his throat. He had never seen someone die before.
"King Scott." A deep voice breathed with barely contained fear. His gaze flickered to the person above him, concern lacing the man's warm, amber colored eyes. His eyebrows were scrunched down, a frown gracing his pink lips. His red hair dipped into his eyes.
Under normal circumstances, he might have wanted to brush the hair to the side and kiss away the man's alarm. Instead he found himself unable to answer Allen, numbly turning his head to look at the pool of blood around the dead girl's feet. It felt wrong that just moments ago the girl was laughing at a joke whispered into her ear, a blush fanning across her pale cheeks. Unknowingly so close to death.
Scott's stomach lurched, nausea hitting him in a wave.
"Everyone to the safe room!" A guard called.
Allen stood, pulling Scott up with him. Dreadmade his limbs heavy, and he moved rather ungracefully to the secret panel in the wall that lead to the Royal safe room. Surely his knees would have buckled if not for Allen keeping him aloft.
They stopped for a moment, Allen seemed to be coaxing someone out from under the table. Scott couldn't focus on what the Alpha was saying as he found himself staring at the metal blinds that had been pulled over the windows for this exact event. Bullets rained down on them, leaving dents in the metallic sheets, but never quite pushing through.
Then he was being pulled foward again, down a sloping hallway that lead to the heart of the palace. Allen had his other arm wrapped around Robbie. The Omega's cheeks were stained with tears, soft sobs wracking his body.
The safe room hadn't been used in a while. A thin layer of dust coated everything, and the room wasn't meant to hold thirty plus people. There weren't nearly enough cots and chairs, so many had already seated themselves on the floor.
Allen found an empty corner and the three fell in a small heap, leaning against one another. In the back of Scott's mind, he was aware that he should be checking on the other suitors, or even talking to the council members that were in the room. He couldn't find the strength to move though, instead resting his head on Allen's shoulder. The Alpha's presence helped calm his nerves, and the protective arm around his waist gave him a sense of safety. Nothing was said between the trio, which suited Scott just fine. There was nothing to be say anyway.
After a while, his tense body began to relax, the adrenaline exiting his system leaving him feeling drained and exhausted. His eyelids began to droop, the soft murmurs around the room lulling him further into sleep.
"My King." A rough voice pulled him from the brink of unconsciousness.
He reluctantly opened his heavy eyelids. James Mitchell, a council member, was standing before the group. He couldn't quite place the expression in his eyes.
"We have a lot to discuss," was all he said, and Scott knew it was time for him to put on his royal act again.
"Of course." Scott stood warily. He glanced to the two behind him. Allen was watching them, his body still tense. Robbie was asleep, leaning against the Alpha much like Scott had been doing moments ago. "Let me go check on the other Suitors first, then we can speak."
Scott made his rounds. Most had fallen asleep at this point out of exhaustion. But a few were still crying silently, and all Scott could do was hug them and offer simple condolences. Others sat frozen, staring into nothing. Those Scott couldn't quite seem to reach, so he was forced to leave them alone.
He made his way over to the council members. The five of them stood in a tight circle, lowly conversing. Scott joined them and they all immediately turned towards him to fill him in.
He silently listened, soaking in the information. There wasn't much to go on. The assault had come to an end, most had been killed, and those who had been captured had committed suicide via pills. Whoever this group was didn't want to reveal themselves just yet. Now guards were just securing the grounds, making sure everything was safe.
Now that he was no longer in such a state of shock, he couldn't help but feel terrified to his very core. An attack on the palace hadn't happened since before his father was born. They were a strong, peaceful Kingdom who hardly butted into foreign conflicts. He couldn't help but feel like this had happened because he had been crowned. The blood that had been spilled was his fault, because he was king.
That thought made the floor sway beneath his feet, guilt washing over him. Black spots danced across his vision, and he felt hands gripping him as darkness overcame him.
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