Chapter Seven
The consequences
“WHERE IS SHE?” the king screamed as he threw a glass across the room. It shattered into pieces as it hit the stone wall. “I WANT HER FOUND RIGHT NOW!”
Thorns were cowering in the throne room. The king had just discovered that his prisoner was missing. His fury was an artist’s brush, painting chaos with violent strokes. Matthias observed, a smirk playing at his lips as his father danced on the precipice of madness. The guards who dared cross the threshold of the prison had become reluctant messengers of doom, each delivering the same dreadful truth.
The king had not taken the news lightly.
Smashed furniture and food were strewn across the floor. A few Thorns had received the brunt of his hand and Jes made herself scarce as soon as the words touched the King’s ears—she was well aware of what was about to unfold.
Utter chaos.
Amidst the fury of his father, Matthias found himself overcome by amusement and a grin formed on his lips—the response asaudacious as it was calculated. The king’s gaze fell upon his son with disapproval. Swiftly moving to the prince’s side, a primal snarl escaped the king’s lips as his fingers constricted around Matthias’ throat. “Was it you, boy? Did you take my pretty little prisoner and hide her away?”
His father was mad. The look in his eyes was wild. Matthias wasn’t afraid, though; he was used to this kind of crazy. “Yes, father, I took her,” he confessed, his voice a sardonic melody. Matthias knew the moment he lit that match down in the cells that eventually there would be consequences to pay, but the look on his father’s face told him it was completely worth it.
“Where did you take her? If you give her back to me, I will spare your pathetic life,” the king growled as he squeezed his hand tighter. Air struggled to reach Matthias’s lungs, but the prince didn’t waiver in his glare.
The truth was, Matthias yearned to see his father writhing in mental agony. “I let her go,” he said, his grin wicked and full of satisfaction.
“How dare you take what is mine without asking permission,” the king hissed as droplets of spit sprayed across the prince’s face.
Matthias pulled back but remained silent—keeping eye contact with his father. He’d mentally prepared for this moment as soon as Adalia was safe in her kingdom, even though he knew he would never see the woman again. Something in her eyes made him certain that she didn’t deserve the fate of his father’s hand.
“Because of your little stunt, there are now consequences.”
Matthias huffed. “What could you do to me that you haven’t already done?” He was ready to face whatever it was his father was threatening.
“Maybe they aren’t for you . . .” The king’s voice trailed off. “There is now a bounty placed on her head for an incredibly sizeable sum. Those that find her will be rewarded greatly. And I want her found alive so I can torture her in the most painful of ways while I force you to watch.” The king leaned forward, lowering his voice to whisper in Matthias’s ear. “How does that make you feel now, son?”
The words and warm breath made the prince shiver.
“You’ll never find her. She has more resilience and fight in her little finger than your entire army does combined,” Matthias retorted.
The king grinned down at Matthias, but his grin lacked joy. “If only I could say the same about you . . .”
What followed was an inferno of violence, an orchestration of brutality that unfolded as expected. Blow after blow rained down upon Matthias, his father’s fists hammering his face into a bloody tableau. Then, as if he wasn’t sated by the crimson art he’d painted, the King pushed Matthias to the floor and unleashed a barrage of kicks upon him.
The symphony of pain increased until Matthias succumbed to the darkness, the world fading into oblivion, much like the prisoner who had vanished beyond the king’s grasp.
Matthias woke on the floor outside his bedroom door, wings sprawled out behind him. Someone must have dragged him there after his father finished his display of fury.
Pain throbbed through his head as he pulled his body up from the floor and into his room. He wanted to say that he’d do it all over again just to watch his father’s withered face drain of colour, but he was second guessing his choice. The bounty now placed on her head would never leave. Never dissolve. It would stalk her like a lion to its prey for the rest of time. The King of Oscuro was immortal, as was his spite.
There was a sudden urge to find and warn her, but how could he seek her out safely? Without the prying eyes of Snake or Jes?
Maybe, in time, his father would forget about it. Surely she would be wise enough to stay away from the Veils’ edge for a while.
Bones whimpered as Matthias crawled to his bed, “Don’t worry boy, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” The prince groaned as he pulled himself up into a standing position.
The room swayed for a moment and Matthias clutched his head—a dull ache knocking repeatedly against his skull.
Carefully moving to his desk, he unlocked the drawer and pulled a wooden box from inside. He counted the contents, pocketing all of it once he’d finished.
“I will not bother with fight night this week, or maybe a few weeks. I need to be rid of this place for a while, and I’m sure my father won’t want to see my face around here. What say we go to our cabin in the woods?”
The wolf licked Matthias in eager response, and Matthias ran his fingers through his hair. “Ready to run?”
