149

Isabella

The welcome Damon had in mind was simply us sitting in place and doing nothing. Gunshots sounded outside along with an occasional yell.

"Surely, I hope none of our men are getting injured?" I asked the masked King beside me.

"They're wearing some armor. Besides, I told them to stay out of sight for the most part," he assured me. "It's all good unless they bring in bombs."

I smiled as my heart rate began to pick up. Soon, we heard a crashing sound that signified a door was broken, and then we were suddenly surrounded by men—seven of them. Two of them standing close together parted ways to reveal a woman. She wasn't in middle age; I would place her to be around 50 to 60.

Her face was wrinkled, but not so much as to make her look decades older. I could see the vestiges of both youth and age. She had dark brown hair, eyes that looked worn by sleep, and lips painted in dark red lipstick, in a similar shade to my gown.

The woman pulled out a gun and pointed it at all of us. Unable