Finn gasped through the agony, his vision swimming, dark blotches bursting at the edges. He wanted to pass out. His body screamed for it. But his pride refused.
His breath rasped through his teeth. The words scraped against his fractured mind. He was in too much pain to think, too raw to lie. The truth slipped free before he could stop it.
“For love,” he mumbled.
Darius stilled, his lips parting slightly, as if tasting the words. Then his expression hardened, and he gave a curt nod to the torturer.
The next blow came fast. Finn felt rather than heard his pinky break, the bone splintering like dry kindling.
This time, he screamed.
Darius let it happen. Let the agony rip through Finn’s lungs, let it fill the chamber, only to be swallowed by the stone walls.
He must have blacked out. When he came back to himself, Darius was still there. Still watching. And now, disgust twisted his face.
“Love?” The word dripped with scorn, but it felt like a cover for…what? Contempt? No. Fear. “You fool. You know nothing about him. About either of them.” Darius reached, gripping Finn’s ruined right hand, studying it. Finn bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “You think love will save you? That it will save him?” Darius’s smile was all teeth. “Love is the first thing I break.”
His hand wasn’t gone, but his mind was pretending it was. If he could trick himself into believing that, maybe he wouldn’t lose himself entirely. Finn wanted to curl in on himself, to escape any way he could. But the straps held fast.
And for a fleeting, wretched moment, he thought about it. Thought about telling Darius everything. Just to make it stop.
Just to be free of this agony.
But then… No. The idea sickened him more than the pain ever could.
He forced himself to lift his head. Every nerve screamed. But he still met Darius’s gaze.
“I know enough.” His tongue felt thick, like a lump of bloodied meat in his mouth. Had he been biting it? He swallowed the iron taste down. “I know Cedric isn’t the monster you claim him to be.”
And then, because he was already damned, he was going to carve his own epitaph. Finn spat blood onto the king’s pristine boots.
“Cedric is the rightful king.” His voice should have broken, but it didn’t. “And I swear my life, my sword, and my soul to him.”
Darius’s face twisted. Pure, unbridled rage. “Enough!” he roared, the sound reverberating off the stone walls.
Finn hardly had time to savor the victory before the king turned to the torturer, his fury bleeding into something colder.
“Make him talk. I don’t care what it takes.” Darius paused, eyeing him. “Break him if you must—but don’t kill him.” His voice lowered, edged with something calculating. “This errant knight may still be of use to me.”
Finn exhaled slowly, teeth bared in a feral, bloodied smile. “Go on, then.” His voice was hoarse. “See who breaks first.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cedric always looked forward to dusk. It was the moment his body became his own again, however brief. But today, he obsessively tracked the sun’s slow descent, his thoughts tangled in restless loops. It was unnecessary—he knew when it would set. The curse had bound that knowledge into his very bones. He could feel it now, buzzing beneath his skin like a living thing, counting down the last moments before he regained his humanity.
When the first jolt of magic struck, Cedric lurched toward the stables, his instincts overriding all else. He had just yanked the stable door shut with his tail when the pain hit full force. He tried to breathe through it, to control it, but the magic had other plans. It ripped him apart cell by cell, grinding his body into something unmade before forcing it back together again.
Cedric bit back a scream, his nails clawing at the dirt floor. It felt like drowning in fire. And then, just as suddenly, it was over.
He slumped forward, gasping, sweat cooling on his bare skin. His eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he gathered himself. Couldn’t just lay here. Had to get up. Slowly, he forced himself upright. His limbs trembled, weak from the ordeal, but he reached for the clothes he had left folded nearby, dressing as quickly as he could.
Gwenna was already outside, waiting for him. She stood by the goat pen, a pack slung over her shoulders, the other leaning against the fence. Clarence, ever the menace, was attempting to chew through one of the leather straps. Gwenna swatted at him, scowling. “I will turn you into boot leather if you keep it up, you infernal beast.”
The goat remained unimpressed.
The door creaked as Cedric stepped out, rolling his shoulders against the ache in his muscles. Gwenna caught his eye and lifted a brow. “Ready?”
He exhaled, reaching for his pack. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” But as he adjusted the weight on his back, his gaze drifted toward the tower. Their home. The only home they had known for so long. “Are you sure about this?” His voice was quieter now, almost reluctant. “Once we leave, there’s no turning back.”
