Johntsks. “I don’t think so, but I appreciate that you’ve exposed disloyalty within my ranks. It will be a pleasure to use this as an example of what happens when you fuck with the crown.”
My ink-black fingers tighten around my sword’s hilt. With my free hand, I grab the collar of my shirt and jerkin and yank them down to expose my collarbone. To show him the demon’s marks that creep down my neck to disappear beneath my clothing. “Look at me, you piece of shit.” I release my clothing. The need to rip out his heart hums through me. “I’m going to enjoy sending you to Hell.”
John smirks as if he has the right to be arrogant. “I wonder if Eleanor agrees.”
Choosing not to fall victim to his taunt, I close the distance between us. Wren and I are in control here, and when I grab John by the chin and force him to look deep into my eyes, I make damn sure he understands this. “For the pain you caused this kingdom, I want you on your knees begging for your life.”
I allow John to slap my hand away. “The way your sister begs for hers?”
Fuck it. I tried to be pragmatic.
The backhand sends John to his knees. Didn’t I say I wanted him there? He should have complied nicely, now look. I’m upset. His mouth bleeding, and he’s coughing again. What’s Wren saying? Something about how John deserves more than a slap to the face for the murder of his mother. I must agree. Mothers are sacred, and this bastard killed Mary Kincaid when he ordered his men to destroy Leeds Village.
John pushes to his feet, his legs unsteady. He jabs a finger at Wren. “Your parents betrayed me! Mary and Percy knew Sybil took my daughter. Your father was my friend, yet he conspired to steal my daughter from me!”
Wren appears as confused as I am at John’s outburst. With eyes narrowed, he levels his sword at John. “What nonsense do you spew, old man?”
“You think you know everything, but you know nothing! Percy claimed friendship and loyalty to me all those years, but it was a cruel ruse. Your father and Sybil conspired to steal that cursed child from me if my beloved wife perished in childbirth. They took Rapunzel and hid her in Blythe. It was no coincidence he retired to Leeds. He wanted to watch over Rapunzel.” He dabs blood from his mouth. “I gave your traitorous father a merciful death. What I should have done was stick his head.”
“You son of a bitch,” Wren shouts as he charges John.
Because that’s what the bastard wants.
Grabbing Wren’s arm, I stop him. “Control yourself,” I warn him, to which Wren takes a deep, calming breath. The resistance eases out of him. “This is him asking for an easy death. Don’t give it to him.”
Wren nods, and right when I’m about to demand Rapunzel and Eleanor be brought to us, Ifeelit… The faintest trickle of unease slithers up my spine. The sound of footfalls follows an…unnerving…sensation emanating from the hallway. Two pairs. Marching toward the chamber. Two heartbeats. One races with the anticipation of battle. One thunders with fear. There’s feminine energy buried beneath an aggressive masculine force.
I whip my gaze to John. His arrogance says so much—too much—without uttering a single fucking word.
“Stop!” I don’t know who I yell this at or what I’m demanding to cease. Maybe for those fucking footsteps to halt. For John to wipe that goddamn sneer off his miserable fucking face. For my dread to loosen its chokehold on me. I don’t know. Just…stop.
John’s wheezing laughter shakes his disease-ridden body. “Fools!” He shrieks. “I amKing. I have eyes and ears everywhere within these walls. No one breathes inside this castle without me knowing. Did you not think one of my soldiers would tell me you were planning this silly little coup with Walter? Now stand aside, or my man will start cutting Rapunzel’s hair.” Then he looks right at me. “Or would you chance your speed against how much hair she will lose before you open that door and wrench the shears from his hands? It’s your choice, of course, but if I were you, I would choose wisely. After all, we don’t know how much life each strand costs her.”
Fuck.
The sadistic bastard’s smug expression makes me want to take that chance.
But I can’t. Not when I know the pain will cause her. Victory at any cost, yes, but we’re not at that point.
Not fucking yet.
Hopefully, it won’t get that far.
“Open the goddamn door,” I growl at Wren.
He mutters a string of the foulest curses but hauls open the heavy wooden door. Rapunzel is shoved inside the chamber, and it’s the first time we’ve seen her in weeks. Her exquisite face upends my world. It takes everything I am not to run to her and yank her from the soldier’s arms. All I can this is:God, I’ve missed this woman.
Her hair falls around her like a shroud, making her appear small. Her bare feet make her seem vulnerable. When I spot a spray of blood on the cream-colored sleeping gown, I study her from head to foot, seeking a source of her injuries. Finding none, I glare at the son of a bitch behind her, searching him first from the metal shears near her hair, then to his bloody nose. Seems our woman put up a good fight.
Rapunzel holds her head high, rage reflected in her eyes as she sweeps the room. But she doesn’t dare move her head. Not one inch, lest those twin blades snap even a single strand. Only her eyes move, softening when they land on Wren and me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“You are a duplicitous and treasonous bitch.” To the soldier, he shouts, “Cut it.” But the order dissolves into a cough.
Wren shouts, “No!”
“Motherfucker,” I roar as I lunge forward.
Too late.
