“I think I deserve to know what he offered you to kill me,” I press, needing just another beat before my weapon is in reach.
Leto pulls his hand from his neck, and my heart drops. I realize too late that he wasn’t rubbing the back of his neck out of nerves. He had a chakram hidden behind his back.
The perfectly circular blade slashes down at me, and I don’t have enough time to grab for my dagger. My arm goes up to try to keep Leto from burying the chakram in my throat. The sharp blade sinks into my forearm, cutting me open to the bone. However, it’s the sudden punch of another razor sharp chakram deep in my gut that makes me gasp in shock.
He had two.
Two deadly weapons somehow hidden behind his back, and now they’re both mortally embedded in me.
“Any Order I want,” he grunts in answer as he tries to pull the bladed circle from my stomach.
I snatch his hand and use all my strength to hold the chakram there, knowing if he pulls it out, it will eviscerate me. The times we fought in the ring or trained against each other, I always let Leto think he was stronger than me. Surprise flashes in his determined gaze when he realizes that he’s not. Immediately he stops struggling to pull the chakram from my stomach and targets the blade still in my arm to finish this once and for all.
Before he can, I yank him closer, trying not to think about the damage the chakram is doing to my gut as my movements force it even deeper. I let my fangs drop as Leto stumbles into me. I revel in the terror that washes over his face as we show one another the true monsters that have been lurking within all this time.
I rip into Leto’s throat, and the scream that tries to rush out of him morphs into a wet gurgle. Leto has none of the thick corded muscle that Gartox had to protect his neck, and all too quickly, I feel his throat start to collapse under my bite. Hot blood pours out of him, spilling down my throat and drenching my chest. Blood sprays the roof and the walls of the abandoned guard house as my fangs puncture something vital in Leto’s neck. He immediately weakens, his jerky defensive strikes and efforts to get me off him slowing until they’re nothing more than muscle twitches.
I drink Leto down until his body sags and grows too heavy to hold. The betrayal tainting the flavor of him begins to taste of death, and with one more deep gulp, I peel his fingers from the round blade in my stomach and then shove Leto’s body away from me. He hits a wall and crumples to the ground, death spasms already draining the last of his life as the remainder of his blood starts to puddle beneath him. Pain ripples through me, and I whimper, which makes my stomach muscles tighten, and the horrifying wounds there flare with agony. I wipe my mouth but remember too late that my other arm is injured badly and bleeding too.
With a brutal yank that feels like it saps the last of my energy, I pull the chakram from my arm. It drops with a clang to the floor of the roof. I cry out as I try to step out of the guard house. Agony rebounds through me, and I quickly realize that I’m not going to be able to get to the ladder, let alone climb down it and stumble to the healing chamber. I consider calling out for help, but all the guards are gone, and everyone else in the ludere knows better than to go searching for the source of someone’s screams or pleas. I don’t even know if the healers would help me or if Tilleo has already ordered them to let me die too.
A shuddering sob works its way up my chest, and I decide to do the one thing I probably shouldn’t do. The only thing I can think thatmightsave me. I step back into the shadows of the guard house and beg the darkness to take me tothem.
ChapterNineteen
BONES
Irun the tip of my finger around the rim of the half empty glass in front of me, my thoughts restless and heavy and nowhere near calm enough to allow me to sleep. Skull’s soft snores fill the otherwise quiet tent, and the chair beneath me creaks as I lean back and stretch. The draft Scorpius took before bed knocked him out. I’ve noticed, since we arrived, that he’s relied on the sleep aid more here than he normally does. He won’t admit it, but I know Auset is the reason.
The crystal tumbler is cool against my lips as I take a sip of the thick golden liquid. I stare at nothing as I try—and fail miserably—to see anything other thanher, sitting on the ground in that fucker’s room with her knees pulled up to her chest like she was trying to make herself as small as possible. She looked completely devastated and scared and surrounded by death.
We did that to her.
I know, at the time, we didn’t have any options. We were on a hunt and had one more target yet to deal with. Dorsin’s stronghold was warded—something my brothers and I remedied shortly after—but we couldn’t shadow walk anywhere. It wouldn’t have been safe to take her, not for Auset or for us. Or maybe I’m telling myself that to assuage the guilt currently coursing through me like a tidal wave.
The truth is that we might have gotten too good at ignoring the plight of the fae we come across as we move about the realms to hunt. It was a defense mechanism at first. Something each of us had to become adept at because it was impossible to save everyone we came across who needed it. We looked at Auset, but we didn’t want to see her. We didn’t want to find a way to help her. We’d grown too apathetic, too selfish. A certainty made worse by the fact that each of my brothers and I were rescued by someone who would never turn her back to anyone.
I never viewed any of it through the lens of dishonor, but I can’t see it any other way now. We dishonored Eacon. We dishonored ourselves. We left Auset in Dorsin’s chambers, andthisis what they did to her. She couldn’t have been older than thirty-five, on the cusp of maturity, scared, and innocent. It’s only been a handful of years since the night that we abandoned her, but the change is undeniable. I remember her fear, the plea in her eyes as she looked up at us from her chains. All of that is gone now. She’s hardened now, brutal, enraged. We threw her to the wolves, and the battle being waged inside of her because of it is condemning. One moment she looks capable of burning the world to the ground to get where she wants to go, but in the next blink, she’s hollow, lost, like she’s ready for it all to be over. I can’t stop seeing that war in her eyes, and I hate that I don’t know which side of her will win.
Liquid burns down my throat, the stinging pain almost a kiss of penance as Auset’s words swirl around in my mind. She talked about being beaten and starved and sold off to monsters as though it was an everyday occurrence. The reality that it was for her is driving me mad. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop hating myself for what they did to her. I can’t stop loathing that it’s our fault.
It can be easy to feel privileged and important as a Scorpion, given what we do and what we’ve worked to build. My brothers and I have more than earned the awe and the genuflection, but I feel lower than sarkar shit right now. I know the world we live in is a cruel one. The three of us alone are proof of all the ways the realms can wrong us, but we’ve tried to create some semblance of balance through our actions. We don’tjusthunt for coin. The Order of Scorpions takes pride in destroying the depraved and deserving. The realms should be rid of the monsters that plague them. My brothers and I are all too happy to cut them down, but it’s not enough. I understand that now in a way I haven’t before.
I’ve never cared about what went down in this ludere until now. Our connection to this place was about results, about placing integral pieces that we controlled on the board the realms are playing on, but we fucked up. It took a pair of silver eyes, a smart mouth, and an unhealthy lack of fear for us to see it. The Order of Scorpions hasn’t been paying enough attention, and that’s a serious fucking problem. Now, all the ways we mucked shit up are screaming in our face, and I don’t even know where to begin to fix any of it.
I tilt the rest of the contents in my cup down my throat and try not to choke on the liquid fire that spills from my mouth down into my stomach. I should feel relieved that Scorpius told Tilleo that we’re claiming Auset later in today’s Bidding. It should ease some of my worry, that my brother made it clear to the master that he’s not to bring any more batches of slaves into the ludere until we tell him otherwise, until we can fix everything that’s fucked up. But it’s done nothing to alleviate the tension and shame still churning in my gut. It’s not enough. I don’t know if anything we ever do will be to her, or the others here that deserved better.
A weary sigh escapes me, and I run a tired hand over my head, the rough feel of my short hair against my palm grounding. Out of nowhere, the atmosphere in the tent suddenly changes. I freeze. Every muscle in my body is suddenly on high alert as I discreetly scan my surroundings in search of what’s triggering my internal alarms.
“Bones,” her frail voice pleads, the sound barely more than a pained whisper. Auset staggers out of a shadow, and my heart plummets as I take her in.
Like she used up all of her strength just getting here, she starts to pitch forward, and I rush to catch her. She’s covered in blood. The muscle and skin of one of her arms flaps precariously away from the bone it should be attached too. But it’s the chakram she’s pressing into her stomach, and what I know it means, that sends terror hammering away at me. Scorpius and Skull both rush out of their beds as I catch our little moonbeam before she can hit the ground and do even more damage to herself.
I hate the groan of pain that leaks out of her bloodied lips, but there’s no safe place to touch or good way to carry her that isn’t going to hurt. There’s too much damage.
Why is there so much damage?
“Who the fuck did this?” Skull snarls as he rushes to her side while I carry her to the black maple table and set her gently down on top of it.
