Every man except for the captain fell to the ground with horrific cries, bodies writhing, foam bubbling on their lips. The squad convulsed on the ground in a circle around them. Miya dropped her glass and shoved her forearms against the captain, crying out when he clamped his other arm around her too.
Shakes started in her hands and spread over her whole body. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn't get away from him. She screamed in terror and stomped on his foot.
“You… b-bastard!” The sergeant reached his trembling hand across the ground.
The entire time, the captain watched Miya without looking at the dying soldiers, at ease while she fought to escape him.
The last one left moving groaned and then stopped twitching.
“W-what did you do?” She pounded against his chest.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Oh, my god.”
“Calm down. You didn’t even know them. I can’t let some nobodies have power over me. Now, we’re the only people who know the real story.” He lifted a hand to her face. “Yours wasn't poisoned. I'm not going to kill you. Don't be scared.”
Miya squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against his chest again. “Let me go, you psychopath!”
“We’ll disappear for a few days. The story is that the United caught wind and attacked. Time to go.”
He bent and lifted her over his shoulder, ignoring her fists beating against his back.
“What are you doing?” She tried kicking, but he held her legs too tightly against him. “Stop.”
Miya knew the captain was a terrible, vile man, but she never expected he could murder his entire squad without even blinking. What did he hope to accomplish with this? Any sway Miya held died with the captain's squad, because he obviously didn't care what Miya would say to the Phaedra.
The captain was in complete control of her.
He carried her out to a van and cuffed her wrists and ankles to the seat. When he returned to the safehouse, she bucked against her restraints and looked for weapons, but the van was spotless.
Miya beat her head back against the seat, screaming. He said he didn't plan to kill her, but she might rather die than survive a few days of whatever he intended. It wasn't bad enough that Miya ruined the Phaedra's plan to kill the king or that she destroyed Christopher's reputation. Placed his career in jeopardy. That would be the worst for most men. But not for someone like the captain.
He claimed her as his own, and she ran away with another man. She hurt his ego. He'd make her suffer to prove she was powerless against him. Destroy her for wounding him. For not belonging to him. Make her wish he had poisoned her too.
It was time to cut off the terror and think, because Miya knew men like this, knew them too well, and she couldn't afford to give in to fear.
Hardly five minutes passed before black smoke rolled against the windows in the living room.
The captain ran back to the van.
“People will suspect you,” she said, still shaking, but able to think again.
“Let them. The Phaedra will hear my story. The world will hear it. Everything else is speculation.”
“And what is that story? Where are you taking me?” Miya watched the flames eat through the roof as they drove into the night.
“We were captured by militia members who intercepted our communication about you. I saved you from them. We'll return to Ciondo in a few days.” He eyed her while he drove. “I've come under some bad luck recently. I need a victory with the Phaedra.”
“You killed your whole squad for this.”
“The Phaedra will praise me for uncovering the secret of your identity and for saving you from those vile opportunists.” He slid his hand over her knee. “You have a few days to make up for your betrayal to me.”
She'd die before making up anything to him.
With a scowl, she jerked her leg away. “You realize I'm telling everyone what you did to your squad, right? And I'll tell them about whatever you do to me.”
“It might matter whose daughter you are, but you don't matter. You're the marked runaway princess who chose to fuck her way across Caspador rather than return to a palace. At any time, you could have gone home.”
