“And it was necessary since you had your fucking prince send his soldiers out hunting for us,” Belladonne’s nostrils flared, her jaw clenched tight. She spat each word, her hands trembling as if barely containing the urge to lash out physically. “Do you have any idea what it’s like, Sin? To be hunted every day? To know someone’s always just a step behind, ready to slit your throat? All because the little pet slave managed to win the prince’s heart. You destroyed our lives, and now we’ll destroy yours.”
Sin shook her head, snorting. “I should’ve just killed you.”
Ricina let out a sinister laugh. “Oh, you definitely should’ve, Sin. But you didn’t—and now we get to make you suffer. We want you to feel everything we’ve felt. The hunger, the fear, the constant dread. And when we’re done, you’ll wish you had died alongside our parents. Not anytime soon though. Not when your friend came all this way to see you.”
Their smiles widened at the confusion on Sin’s face, right before one of them approached her, reaching for the chains holding her up. Sin followed her sister’s gaze, finding a circular stone attached to the ceiling, allowing her body to turn while being suspended.
They spun her around, and the stench intensified, cloying and suffocating. There, hanging from rusted chains, was Magnolia. Her flesh hung in sickly greenish strips, eyes hollow, maggots writhing in the open wounds.
Every single bit of effort Sin took to keep herself numb was released with a scream.
The whip cracked through the silence, a streak of agony tearing through Sin’s back. She convulsed against the chains, her body jerking as blood splattered onto the stone floor, glistening like ruby droplets in the dim light.
The sisters made sure she faced Magnolia’s lifeless body, her decaying face etched into Sin’s vision with every lash. The whip’s end tore into her cheek, blood dripping down, mixing with her sweat as she screamed, her voice hoarse and broken.
* * *
Sin woke, feeling like she was still in a dream. But this room was different. A sudden, suffocating heat replaced the cool dampness. Sin blinked, disoriented—where there had beenshadows, now light flickered from a torch on a nearby wall, casting distorted shapes that danced like specters.
Did they move me?she thought.
Sin?
She felt a relieving agony at the sound of Max’s voice. A wave of regret filled her, but those feelings weren’t her own. The view of the room seemed to deepen, as if the head of the body slumped further down.
Sin,Max whispered slowly, as if to savor her name.
It’s me, Max. Where are you?
Utter silence came from him, but a feeling of peace flooded her.
Max!she shouted.
He chuckled internally.Of course, in my dreams you would be yelling at me, my love.
Max’s voice was barely a whisper, brittle and weak. She could feel his exhaustion, the tremor of his pain—a pain so deep it threatened to swallow him.
This isn’t a dream!
Isn’t it?he breathed, like it was too difficult for him to even think louder, and Sin wondered if wherever he had been, after what had been done to him, that he gave up.
No, you dunderheaded asshole!
Sin?His voice and emotions perked up.
Yes! Where are you?!
His breathing quickened, and his head rose slightly as he took in the room. Only for a moment before he slumped back down. Like that took all of his energy.
Your father’s dungeon cell?
Yes.
Max,Sin said in a deeper tone.What happened to you?
The door opened with a metallic clang, and Oliver and the king stepped in—tall, broad, his very presence sucking the airout of the cell. His eyes were cold, assessing, a predator sizing up his prey. Sin could feel Max flinch, and her rage flared, red-hot. For the first time, Gideon didn’t look like a piece of shit, and more like, like he was filled with dread, and it didn’t look fresh. That was decades’ worth of pain in his eyes.
No matter. If he touched her mate, he was dead too.
