“And cameras.” I raised my voice a little. “Everywhere. Inside, outside, the lake, the woods. And someone monitoring them twenty-four seven.”
“Simmy, aren’t you… Aren’t you proud of me?”
Dropping my head until my jaw hit my chest, I closed my eyes for a brief moment, then squared my shoulders and spun around, sneakers in hand. Two strides later, I dropped to my knees at her feet, gently unwrapped them from the blanket, and humbly accepted the white socks Addison held out.
Our wife was alive right now because of a stick, a boy with a pair of cleavers, and an old lady with a rifle.
With utmost care, I slipped her socks on, then her sneakers, leaving them untied because my fingers were trembling. Gliding my palms up her ankles, I clung to her calves and swallowed hard.
“And a safe room.” I finally raised my eyes to meet storm-cloud gray. “No, abunker. Underground, warded, stocked with supplies, independent water and ventilation systems. And a direct line to Father. Just in case.”
“Simmy?” She set down her mug, and her tea-warmed hands cradled my face.
“My little wife,” I breathed.
For a moment, the frantic energy of my planning faded, and all I could see washer. My palms tightened ever so slightly around her calves, thumbs running up and down her shins. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to one knee, then the other, a chaste gesture. Not something I’d normally do in front of others, but she deserved it. Deserved the respect. The pride. The recognition.
“You fought back.” My voice cracked, betraying me, and my hands shook harder as they clung to her.
“I did.” Her eyes softened. “For you. For Zane. For Koa. Forus. For this life we’re building. And I always will.”
“You mean, if he ever lets you out of that bunker,” Mrs. Wentzel hurrumped. “Now, may I please have my kitchen back, Prince Casimir? Addison and I are behind schedule now, thanks to the unplannedmonster incursion.”
As Seri giggled and slithered off her chair and into my arms, the corner of my mouth twitched. Just once, almost imperceptibly. A tiny crack, faint and fleeting.
I’d make sure her life never again depended on a stick.
A fuckingstick.
17. Beneath My Heel
Eluned
Concrete kissed my cheekbone, its cold lips sucking the heat from my flesh. I blinked grit from my eyes and spat a ruby droplet onto the floor. My whimper morphed into a giggle, pain blossoming across my jaw where that brute Casimir had struck me. My wedding dress—oh, my beautiful snowdrop-white gown!—now hung in tattered strips like the skin of a flayed angel. An enchanted cord around my wrists, its magic humming against my wrists like angry bees, tightening each time I struggled.
How dare they truss me up like this? I’ll make necklaces of their entrails!
My thoughts skittered across my mind like insects scrabbling over glass, disjointed yet somehow perfect. Perfect, yes. Everything would be perfect once Mother saw what I’d done.
What I’dtriedto do.
The crawfish had been magnificent, my finest idea yet. Its pincers would have snipped that little bitch Serafina right in half.
“Ring around the rosie,” I whispered to myself, testing the soreness in my jaw, “pocket full of posies.”
The room was dim, cinder block walls surrounding me like a coffin. A basement, perhaps? No windows. Just a single lightbulb swinging gently overhead, casting trembling shadows across the floor. I blinked against the harsh light, my eyes adjusting to reveal three figures watching me with varying degrees of contempt.
“Wake up,” a voice commanded.
I jerked my head up, my neck protesting the sudden movement. The eldest Cimmerian stood just inside the door, his blond hair pulled back in a ridiculous bun, his expression perfectly, infuriatingly blank, his boots pristine, not a speck of my blood staining them.
Typical. The Ice Prince wouldn’t deign to get dirty. I wondered what it would take to crack that stone facade. To make him scream. To make himbleed.
“Ashes, ashes,” I continued in a sing-song whisper, “we all fall down.”
Koa flanked Casimir, silent as always. His knuckles were stained with blood and his nearly black eyes burned with somethinglusciousthat made my insides twist. I’d watched him the most during our reconnaissance missions because he was the most dangerous of the three. I’d always thought so. Amabel disagreed, citing Casimir’s strategic mind, but I knew better. The ones who held their rage so tightly that it became part of them, they were the ones who would tear your throat out without hesitation.
Then there was Zane, leaning against the wall with practiced nonchalance, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. His red hair was a mess, as if he’d just rolled out of bed after a particularly vigorous round of sex. I wondered if he’d ever consider takingme. I’d show him things that would prove just how much of a virginal bore his precious little wife was.
