I needed her to search not just my memories, but my mind for anything that could prove I was ever in Dante’s clutches.
3
Maeve
Ifelt nothing other than numbness and pain.
My blood burned with her absence, the hunger unbearable with her gone.
The blood of Hyperion Black smelled rotten, laced with something dark and tainted. There were rumours that when one harmed their fated mate, it altered something inside them. Changed their magic, their hearts. Marked them as unworthy, as dangerous creatures to be around.
How long until our scents changed? Until our blood darkened into sludge, marking us as failures to our mate?
I gritted my teeth as I circled the unconscious body of the Fae male. His head hung to one side, eyes too swollen to close entirely. The blood vessels in his eyes had burst long ago. The chains tying him to the chair slowed his healing down to a human’s. I’d sliced his silver hair off days ago, but matted strands of it still hung in his face, almost black from the amount of dried blood covering him.
My fingers flexed, aching from the most recent beating. I tried to keep my mind focused on the present, but my thoughts drifted in two different directions: Ivy, what she might be going through at the hands of Dante.
And my past, which I’d worked so hard to bury, to hide.The darkness was my own burden to bear; a burden I’d let go of when mating Ivy.
But now, staring at Hyperion Black, it came rushing back.
My Sire, Henrik, with his unsettling blue eyes. Sharp like ice, glacier blue. The strangest eyes that always garnered a compliment whenever he went out in public. But they hadn’t hid the darkness festering within him. Corrupted by bloodlust, he’d only had one goal: build his own coven from the ground up with those dedicated only to him, born only of his power.
He should have prepared me for Dante; now, I saw how similar they were. Two males lost to the addiction of power, neither strong enough to hold it, but arrogant enough to think they could have it all.
Hyperion was no different to my father; he’d sold his son for power, for wealth and gain. Beaten him, and in the end, killed him. Or that was what he thought.
Orion’s sleep-stasis was something we didn’t know how to navigate. It pained me, knowing wherever Ivy was, she thought him dead.
We needed Hyperion to think his son was gone. That he had succeeded in his revenge. For now, at least.
Hyperion was a means to an end.
I sliced through his chest with my claws and watched the blood spill from five clean cuts. The male barely jerked, his head lolling to the side. Unseeing eyes flickered to mine before moving to the darkness in the corner of the room. If he thought he might use the shadows, he was sorely mistaken. Each shadow in this room belonged to a demon, a demon completely devoted to their Queen.
The claws retracted, leaving my fingers wet with his blood. “It’s only a matter of time before you give me what I need,” I said, moving to stand behind him. The male stiffened, heart pounding. “Nothing stays hidden for long, Hyperion. You should know that better than anyone.”
The rot of his blood filled my lungs as I breathed him in. This time, though, when I broke skin, he did not flinch. Perhaps, he was finally numb to the torture. Blindto the pain. But if he thought it wouldn’t get worse for him during his silence, then he was mistaken. I’d turn the numbness to fire, the burn something he could never escape.
“It will only get worse for you,” I murmured, resting my other hand on his shoulder. This time, I kept the claws contained but still dug my nails into his shoulder. “I know you have something hidden in your memories. Only a matter of time before I search them. You could make it easy on yourself, Hyperion.”
The male made a choked sound. “You can’t read my memories,” he spat, breath rattling in his lungs. “He made sure?—”
“He made sure to put something in your blood to harm me,” I finished, smiling. “I know that, you fool. Why do you think I’ve had you bleeding since you arrived?”
I rounded the chair, ripping my claws free. If there was any colour in his face—aside from the terrible bruising, of course—I would imagine it to have drained.
“Such a simple solution,” I continued, claws popping free on both hands now. I shoved them into his thighs, feeling nothing as he cried out. “Like humans, you regenerate blood. Poisons can be bled out, so can toxins. But even if that doesn’t work, it’s still fun watching you bleed. Hearing you whimper like a wounded animal, knowing a greater predator will have your beating heart soon enough.”
Hyperion coughed, more blood spilling from his lips. “If you think he won’t come for me?—”
“He hasn’t,” I deadpanned, smile slipping from my lips. “Not a single attempt. And he hasn’t even tried detonating that little bomb in your brain. Either you really are useless and expendable to him, or he just doesn’t care.”
There was nothing in his dark eyes as they found mine. “I will still be High King of the Fae.Thatis my destiny. To see the High Court restored. To see Faery brought back to glory?—”
“Glory does not come from Kings,” I spat. “You will restore nothing. You are a cause of darkness, of evil. Your arrogance led you to doing the unspeakable: betraying your bondedmates and killing your own son. You think you will bring Faery back to greatness? You are only leading it to ruin. You will destroy everything because of your loyalty to a madman. There will be no Faery when he is done.”
“Those are words of desperation,” he wheezed. I shook my head, tearing my claws from his thighs. He barely winced as more blood spilled from his legs. “You repeat these dooming words over and over again with no proof.”
