“No wonder the Shadow Prince had his way with her,” one guard jeers.
“She’s got good tits on her—I’ll give her that,” the other guard responds, and my instinct to run a knife through his ribs flares sharp and hot.
“Come anywhere near me and I’ll rip the smirk off your face with my fucking teeth,” I snap back, desperately trying to leash the fury in my veins.
The guard steps closer until I can feel his acrid breath on my face. “I love a woman who bites. If His Majesty didn’t give us strict orders to leave you be, I’d find out just how dirty that sweet little mouth of yours could be.”
I take myself away again. Detach from the part of me that has to tolerate this. My chest tightens, and my breath quickens. My mind races with panic as the urge to lash out becomes stronger with every heartbeat. I can’t do this. I can’t stand here and take it.I fucking can’t.
But just as I begin to lose control, Revryn’s voice cuts through my mind again.
Tell me something you can smell, see and feel, little one.
I ignore the guard, looking beyond him to anchor myself here in the present.
With every observation, my breath slows, and through my panic, I swear I can hear the other guard say something about me being a madwoman. I push past it.
My breathing comes back under control, and I relax my shoulders and unclench my jaw.
“Are you taking me to Maldrak or not? I grow tired of your taunts,” I state coolly, though my tone is at odds with the swirling mess of chaos inside me.
The men lead me down the long, dark halls of the castle, and it gives me a moment to calm my nerves and find a modicum of composure in my frayed mental state.
We climb stairs, turn corners, and pass door after door, before we finally stop in front of domineering double oak doors guarded by almost a dozen men.
“The Lightborne bitch for His Majesty,” one of the guards that escorted me sneers.
The guards at the threshold nod, and swing the decadent doors open into a grand dining room. An obscenely long white marble table with veins of black curving beneath its surface cuts through the center of the room. It reminds me of the shadowed veins that stretch out from the necks of Marked soldiers. The table is surrounded by thick black chairs with intricate etchings of gold along the top—a warm invitation.A lie.
Onyx drapes shut out the sun half-blotted out behind the ripped Decay, and instead, the room is dimly lit with candles flickering through the middle of the table.
My eyes dart around looking for escape routes, the number of guards, possible weapons.
“Sit, Elyssara,” a voice echoes off the high ceilings. “I’m delighted you could join me,” King Maldrak lilts as he glides towards me. I’d recognize him anywhere—his callous eyes haunt my dreams. I don’t know if they haunt me because they are a mirror image of Kael’s or because he’s taken my freedom.Or both.“You look ravishing, of course. Kael has always had an eye for beauty,” he croons. “You’ve met Jax, of course.”
He’s toying with me.
I know he’s fucking with me, and yet my heart lurches at the mention of Kael and Jax.
I snarl my disgust at him, but no words form.
He’s playing on my weaknesses. Pressing on my wounds.
He lets out a soft chuckle, “I see the Dawnmere temper runs in the blood, Elyssara.”
Dawnmere?
I’ve never known my family name.
My father always said it was easier to be no one on the streets. He’d tuck my hair behind my ear with gentleness, but his words were always sharp.People with names, belongings and coin are easy targets, he’d say.
The name steals the air from my lungs, and my chest rises and falls too quickly, unable to keep my composure.
Maldrak’s eyes rove my body, though not in the same way as the guards. No, Maldrak is calculating. Analyzing. Measuring me up.
His eyes are just like Kael’s—ocean blue and penetrating. He’s tall and broad like Kael, too, and the similarities are unsettling. I take a small step back from him—emotion winning out over my mind that demands I don’t back down.
“Elyssara, please. Take a seat,” he pulls out the chair to the right of the head of the table. Next tohischair. “It may surprise you, but I don’t wish to hurt you. I wish to have a conversation about our mutual goals. Or at the very least, how our interests may align in some cases.”
