‘This is still Asmaran soil. Right now,Iam the king?—’
‘Wrong!’
I clenched my fists at the glee in the duke’s tone.
‘Just like your father, you’re nothing but a fucking traitor, Asmar.’
‘Lies!’ I screamed. ‘Matthias has done nothing?—’
‘Wrong again. And I’m getting rather fed up with your insolence. The next time one of you interrupts me, I’ll have an arrow through that wolf’s eye.’
I shook, glaring at him as he strode forward, his smug grin coming into focus with every step.
‘Good. I’ve had some rather interesting conversations with the prince?—’
‘Ifan?’ I asked.
‘Ah, ah, ah,’ Danté said, waggling a finger while his gaze slipped to the still snarling wolf. ‘I suppose how you still had to clarify which one I meant speaks volumes. Yourbrother, Prince Ifan, has a modicum of common sense. He informed Romero of your discovery. How you plan to make your own weapons without sharing them. How you wanted to follow in your father’s foolish footsteps and give Vyrium to the masses.’
I glanced at Matthias; his nostrils flared. ‘You’ve no proof.’
Danté chuckled. ‘Vyrus’s balls, you’d think I’d tire of saying wrong, but fuck me, I’m enjoying it so much right now. Your wonderful brother, who’s keeping your throne warm till Emperor Romero arrives, has spoken against you. He’s even produced letters proving your traitorous nature.’
Matthias crumbled against me and there was nothing I could do. Ifan had not only betrayed him, but he’d also usurped his own brother. A growl rumbled through Pablo, and I closed my eyes, realising he’d been warning me all along.
A guard stepped forward with an iron muzzle. Pab gnashed his teeth. I crouched by him, stroking his thick fur, my hands soothing his chest as they imprisoned him. My body trembled with injustice. Watching, useless, as he was dragged into the dead trees.
‘You hurt one fucking hair on him and I’ll kill you,’ I snarled, swiping hot tears from my cheek.
Matthias held my hand as the stretch of raised bows broke through Pablo’s whimpering. I could urge the wolf to fight or run, but he’d die. We’d all die here and now.
Three guards strode forward. My heart cracked as Matthias’s muscles coiled, as though he’d fight them all. They stood on the periphery, as though they feared him, till Matthias’s shouldersslumped. A tiny, insignificant shift in his form, but one which gave them permission. They lurched forward, dragging him from me as I cried his name. The tears coursing down my cheeks blinded me further. I winced as one of them smashed their fist into his jaw; the others pulled his arms behind him, binding his hands, carrying my husband away. His hair tumbled into his eyes, his shirt dishevelled. Matthias’s name froze in my throat as I turned to face the duke, my blood roiling.
Danté raised his chin, his cold brown eyes raking over me as another guard strode forward with a pair of manacles. She grabbed my wrists, a sneer on her face as she slammed them on. I hissed as the icy metal settled on my skin.
‘It’s a new material your stepfather has acquired. Evellum. Can you feel it, Sorrow?’ He leaned in closer, sniffing, sneering. ‘It negates the effects of Vyrium.’
His words spilled through me like ice. ‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. As soon as they’re off you’ll be back to charming the birds in no time.’
He laughed again as a sword dug into my back, a warning to move.
‘But we won’t be doing that till we return you to the Tribute Tower and throw you to Vyrus.’
CHAPTER 37
Alas, it’s as I suspected. May I present concrete, irrefutable evidence that Matthias Elmswood is as much a traitor to The Alliance as his father was.
— TRANSCRIPT OF AN EMERGENCY MEETING OF THE ALLIANCE
‘Don’t cry, my sweet Sorrow.’ I kept my gaze firmly on the lush silver carpet of my chamber, refusing to meet my stepfather’s satisfied stare, as I knelt before him. ‘We’ll clean you up once you reach the Tower. All that’s left is the small matter of your traitorous husband’s execution, which you’ll bear witness to, of course, then you’ll return to Drufaera.’ He tutted. ‘I would have thought you’d be more grateful. Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you wasted countless tears over that traitor.’
The door closed, his self-assured footsteps receded down the corridors, yet I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
A bowl of cold, untouched soup sat on the table; a mouse nibbled the hard crust of bread. Sniffing, I tried to reach in, unravel the threads, but found nothing but an aching void. Theblurry mouse ran down the table, crossed the floor, stopping to twitch his whiskers before disappearing under the bed. Tilting my head, I wondered why Romero was content to send me back to the Tower. Danté knew what ran in my veins. Unless my return was punishment for lying? Punishment for my existence?
I glanced down at my filthy hands, unable to stop the tremor racing across them.
Somewhere, far below, Matthias was a captive in his own dungeon, awaiting execution for treason. A crime he hadn’t committed. His guards were scattered, defending a shoreline from an enemy he’d never seen, while Romero slept inhisbed, walked his halls, sat on his throne, barking orders. Moments before, he’d given me the news he was about to be crowned as Emperor. But, as he said, I wasn’t invited to the ceremony. I’d be fulfilling my belated fate as a Tribute.
