“He’s nothing left to tell, my king,” the inquisitor responded, sending gooseflesh rising along my skin.
“We have found quite a number of traitors in our midst,” Terym began. He was speaking to me, though his eyes didn’t leave the body in front of him. “Pierce has become particularly skilled at weeding them out.”
There was a shuffle of feet, and I met Pierce’s blank stare with wide eyes. I’d thought him kind, he’d shown my sister and me nothing but respect since the moment we met, even some modicum of protection despite being under order of the king.
I crossed my arms over my stomach. I had been so utterly wrong about him.
A sharp, shaky breath brought my attention back to the king, who leaned closer to the porter’s face. The young man’s gaze spun around the room, eyes glazed.
“Please,” he begged on a hoarse whisper. Terym’s hand twitched ever so slightly to the hidden sheath where he kept his favored jeweled blade.
“This is what happens to those who betray Torglea, who betray me.” The words were a cool lashing, sending a lightning bolt of fear straight into my racing heart. The calm before the storm. I knew exactly what happened when the king used that tone, had experienced it firsthand.
It happened fast. Had I blinked, I would have missed it entirely. One second, the young man stared with wide, pleading eyes. The next, a thin slit appeared at this throat. Then blood poured from the wound, a river of red down his malnourished body. Terym’s jeweled knife was clutched at his side, blood dripping onto the already filthy floor.
The young man elicited a wet gurgle as he tried, and failed, to draw in a breath. The sound sent me spiraling back to the past. To another man’s shocked face, with blood seeping from a wound I inflicted.
My breaths shortened, and spots danced before my eyes fast. My vision swam between the death of the past and the one occurring in the present. My stomach churned and bile rose, hot and acidic against my already raw throat.
After another gurgled breath, his head fell forward, his body swaying but otherwise still.
Mobitus had come.
Terym retrieved a handkerchief from inside his jacket and took his time cleaning the knife, then held it up to the closest candle to inspect the gleaming blade. After returning it to the sheath at his side, the king turned those ice-cold eyes on me. I shrank back, Gensen’s grip on my arm tightening to stop me from putting too much distance between us. My heart thudded painfully loud when Terym leaned close.
“This is the fate that awaits you and your sister should you defy me. I want you to remember this place, my dear Adelia, for one day it could become your home.”
Chapter 31
Iwas on the verge of an attack the entire journey back through the castle to my suite. Pierce trailed behind me, and all I could think about was the young porter’s final rattling breaths. I clutched the lamp in my hand so tightly, the engravings would be imprinted on my skin.
I flinched at every sound, every approaching step from others who walked the halls. We weren’t safe here, especially not in the presence of the guards ordered to protect us. What a joke. They wouldn’t protect us—their sole purpose was to keep us under watch, to stop us from escaping.
The king was wrong about one thing though. Our excursion into the dungeons and the horrors awaiting there was intended to frighten me, and it had. I was absolutely terrified both of us would end up there, but that only motivated me more. Wehadto escape; there was no other option.
When we reached my suite doors, Nathanial was stationed outside, meaning Eleanor was waiting for me.
“Adelia—” Pierce called, but I slammed the door in his face before the lying bastard could say anything else.
I was quick to prick my thumb inside the door, then held it to the lamp to release Shade. The moment he formed before me, I fell into his arms, breathing in his comforting purloe scent and allowing his warmth to thaw my frigid body. The murmur of voices sounded from the other room—Eleanor and Wista—but I couldn’t face them. Not yet.
“We have to get out,” I whispered into Shade’s chest.
He leaned back to study my face, his brow furrowing when he took in my clammy and pale skin. “What happened?”
I couldn’t swallow past the lump in my throat, couldn’t wet the dryness there. Shade swiped his thumb under my eye, smearing an escaped tear. “He’s torturing them. He’s killing them.”
Understanding dawned in gray eyes, and he hugged me tight, placing a kiss on my head. “We’ll get out, my Solis.”
I nodded against his chest, praying he spoke the truth. There was absolutely no way we could fail.
Once my heart settled into a steadier beat, we joined my sister and friend in the large open living space.
“Tell me you have a response,” I said to Wista before either could open their mouth.
“I do.” She held up a crisp white envelope, and I strode toward her, but my hands shook as I took the letter. When I turned it over, neatly cursive letters greeted me.
A Smith.
