And poor, sweet Tavarius slumped over on the ground, dead.
All because he dared to flirt with me.
“No! Tav, Old Gods, no!” I whimpered with shock. I turned to Cyrus in my grief and rage. “What have you done?”
“What I must.” Cyrus laughed cruelly in my ear, as he forced me to turn around and watch what was transpiring. To look at Tavarius and the charred body before us. Despair filled me. A good man was dead, all because of me.
No, I reminded myself. Not me, butCyrus. The man at my back thought he could seduce me, yet what he accomplished was proving himself to be exactly the monster the alluring Fae soldier from the Night Kingdom said he was.
Did Cyrus know about what transpired between us as well? My fear rose. Should Cyrus discover what happened, the thought of what he might do to him struck me in the heart.
I wanted to move, to flee, to doanything—but I may as well have been made of stone as Cyrus held me firmly against his body, only able to watch in alarm as the king turned his attention to Despoina.
“No!” I gasped wetly; my voice strangled in my throat by my tears. I’d never felt so powerless in all my life. And that realization sparked the rage back inside me. The combination of terror and panic overwhelmed me as Cyrus began speaking once more.
“Leave her to me, Father. I know just the place for a whore like her.”
King Astraeus looked over to his heir and for once, they shared a smile—a cruel one.
“Oh, yes, my son. Put this treacherous whore back to work. I think that’s the perfect place for her. If she wants to spread her legs to anyone who comes by, she can do it while earning us money at least.” The laugh he let out made me thrash against the bonds of Cyrus’s arms, but it was pointless.
I was trapped. In his arms. In his life. In his kingdom.
The throne room doors opened once again, and I hesitated to look, hating to think of what could be coming next. I blinked, absorbing the sight of Emmie walking in. Her blonde hair was styled in a half up do with a mass of curled ringlets. Her makeup was done immaculately, highlighting her cheekbones and making her eyes pop. She was dressed in a dark gray slave’s dress, but one that clung to her body in all the right places and was cut low to show off her chest.
Fuck.Oh fuck. This was it. The moment Emmie would be thrown in front of the king as bait.
Would my soul be damned for the choice to go along with this when Cyrus brought it up? For what came to pass because of it? The consequences of my actions when stuck in a situation with no good choice to make? Would the death of the kind Tavarius and the degradation of loyal Despoina blacken my soul forevermore?
I felt like they would. I wanted to collapse to the ground. I wanted to scream and cry until my voice gave out.
Emmie walked slowly, swinging her hips all the while. I nearly rolled my eyes, but I noticed the king’s attention firmly on her ass. Fuck, it was actually working. As Emmie made for me, Cyrus finally released me. I nearly sighed in relief, my legs almost giving out from the abrupt change of now carrying my own weight—until Emmie wrapped her arms around me.
“It’s okay, Asteria. It will be okay.” Her voice was quiet, hushed. She must have noticed the charred body on the ground. Did she realize who it was? She must not have. I couldn’t imagine her staying so calm if that was the case. Her thanks for not sleeping with him haunted me—it had been for exactly this reason.
As it turns out, the offer was enough to damn him. It hadn’t mattered that I said no, I would never stop being sorry for what he had been dragged into because of me.
“Who is this?” King Astraeus asked, making me cringe. Apparently, he was as predictable as Cyrus thought. With his favorite disgraced and discarded, a spot in his bed opened up.
“A slave.” Queen Stelara’s wry voice answered, making me twitch. She’d left Cyrus to handle his father, sitting back to enjoy the show. And it was apparent she was truly enjoying it. Eyes lit up with malice as she watched Despoina be dragged away to her fate. I watched with devastation, my heart hurting for this woman who deserved so much better.
“Cyrus?” The king demanded, letting out a long-suffering sigh as he glanced down to quickly glare at his wife. “Who is she?”
“No idea. A slave, as Mother said.” Cyrus shrugged nonchalantly.
King Astraeus glared at his son, but was seemingly assured he didn’t know her, and turned to Emmie, who blushed under his attention. Fuck.
King Astraeus stepped closer to where we currently stood on the edge of the throne room. Slowly meandering over as his eyes devoured Emmie. “What is your name, little beauty?”
“I’m Emmie, my King.” She giggled prettily as she answered him, before she dropped into a graceful curtsy—exposing her cleavage to him as she leaned forward. King Astraeus took the time to enjoy the view as he stepped in front of her.
My muscles twitched, wanting to reach out and pull Emmie back to me. Cyrus seemed to sense that, shifting me back against his body once more. His hands on my hips as he ground against me.
“Don’t ruin this, my dear. You won’t like what happens if you do.” Cyrus warned in a whisper, his voice underlined with malicious threat.
His warning had me freezing in place. I couldn’t imagine I would like anything he did, so I stayed still as Emmie rose and the king dragged his eyes down her body.
“A vacancy has recently opened up in my bed, little beauty.” King Astraeus murmured lowly as he reached out and ran a finger down Emmie’s cheek. She shivered at his touch, and I watched her melt before him. “Would you be interested in the position?” The king smirked, already assured of what her answer would be as he confidently propositioned her.
