Between gritted teeth, I grind out the words, “Tell me how you knew.”
My thoughts return again to Kassiel and my friends though I dare not ask anything about them in the off chance that they’ve escaped.
King Euron’s eyes shift into something that can only be described as beast—like. His inhuman eyes are icy cold and it feels like the room has dropped a few degrees as he lets his charm fall away.
His boot twists into my chest and with a grunt he kicks me—hard.
I tumble backwards as my lungs seize and constrict with the force of the punt. I land on the hard floor with a crash and it’s enough to make my head bounce, causing my vision to dance with colors.
I sit there, trying to take small breaths even though it’s useless. My lungs riot against the constant pain in my chest and ribs. So much so that King Euron must have broken a rib.
“You think that I answer to you? To your filthy demands?”
King Euron steps until he’s hovering over me, looking down on my prone form.
Disgust laces his tone as he continues, “There’s been hundreds of others just like you. And there will be a hundred more after you. You think you’re significant just because you can make a bird out of some fucking mirage magic?”
He squats down onto his haunches..
His words are practically spat in my face.
“You want so badly to make a difference in this world, Alora Viren, Commander of The Hidden,” he kneels closer to my ear as he whispers, “but you can’t save yourself, let alone that little brother of yours. What was his name? Hanin?”
I close my eyes with the mention of Hanin. How dare this man use him in this way.
But it’s not enough for the king, no. He slowly grabs my chin and pinches it harshly between his fingers.
The next words are almost unforgivable, even for King Euron to say.
“I heard that he whimpered your name as my men shoved a sword through him repeatedly. He never did give up where you’d wandered off to.”
My eyes widen in horror, I don’t want to believe this. I can’t.
He continues to hold my face and my jaw begins to ache with the tight grip.
“He seemed like such a sweet boy, it’s a shame that he was ultimately useless to me. But you’re not useless, starshine. You have something Iwant.Something that’s beenowedto me since the beginning of my pact with the oracles. You. Belong. To.Me.”
The way he speaks about owning me makes the contents of my stomach threaten to upturn.
An ache in my chest writhes like a vine that strangles out light. Creeping rage fills my veins with icy, hot hatred.
I force my eyes, heavy with tears, to look at the monster that stands before me. I learned long ago that the only monsters in this earthen realm are the beasts that would control us, strip away our freedom, cleave away our voices.
And for what? Because they believe they can.
But little does this man, this so—called king before me realize, I was birthed in rage.
Baptized in the sacred waters of retribution.
He may have forced me to my knees today, but that defiance can never be snuffed out as a flame would be.
A hot tear slides down the side of my cheek as I lay there, staring at true evil.
My voice trembles as I begin to speak, “You don’t own anyone. You’ll never break those of us that fight for humanity. Fight against you.”
The anger spills from my eyes in a constant stream.
“You will never win.” I lash the words out, letting the emotion coat the tips of my barbed tongue.
