Page 167 of Uncrowned

“The kingdom in disguise.”

Loud applause and whistles sounded from the guards and Masters, and I felt my pride for The Order soar at the creed. Vaughn paced, continuing.

“Nothing in our world comes easily. Nothing comes without a cost. When one of us dies, it is not without contribution to a higher cause. We come into this knowing someday we may be the sacrifice. We may be the currency that allows our world to continue. Tonight, we lose three, but what we’re gaining is unlike anything we’ve known.”

Vaughn’s stare went to Marian, and as he headed in her direction, she let go of Bram and put distance between them. She was standing taller. Her eyes were taking in her surroundings, and I knew she was becoming more conscious. The Marian inside of her was currently aware.

“I promised us progress, and I have delivered on that promise. We’ve gone too long hiding in the shadows. I say… No! More!”

A roar of cheers had me clutching to the corner of the stone hallway. Marian was holding to the ballgown of her wedding dress, and Drayton’s hair was already turning wet with sweat. He looked terrified for her. I saw his love. It remained inside of him. If only this somehow brought them closer together. Vaughn seemed to think it would, and I trusted him.

“I do nothing without reason or result. Someday, when my heir is king or queen, history will come back to this very moment. To two bloodlines so supreme that there will never be any action taken against them again. Pennington and LaRoe—Taylor and Masterson.” Vaughn’s gaze narrowed at Marian as he kept eye contact at his approach. “Together, we are the future, and we’re going to prove that tonight. Aren’t we, Marian?”

She hesitated, swallowing hard.

“We are… Unavowed.”

A moment of pause had him smiling bigger and nodding in approval at her formal address with the hint of our creed.

“Tonight is more than a game. Tonight, a woman equivalent to a queen in her country, one who will produce the other half of our future, will take her revenge. I allow this, but not without a price. When I bleed, so do those who inflict it. My blood,” he said, pointing to the guards, “for hers.” He waved his arm to Drayton.

“Like any game, there are rules. Blood for blood. Wound for wound. Death… for death.”

Vaughn gestured his hand, and a guard wheeled a cart of weapons to a stop between the two Xs that held the restrained, nude rapists. Another was placed in front of Vaughn and Drayton.

“Here are the rules. You have twenty opportunities to bring suffering. Each guard you torture will hold ten wounds. Not nine. Not eleven. The tenth must be the one to end their life. If they don’t die, your husband will. If your wounds are not significant enough to cause pain, I make Mr. Pennington’s severe. Each wound consists of what we call a turn. Example: If you want to cut off their finger, the number of swings to a hatchet doesn’t count. The finger is the turn, not the number of times it took you to make the wound. Once we start, at no point are you allowed to turn around and see the damage I’ve caused. If you disobey, he pays. Now, choose. Do we go one wound at a time, or would you like to make two—one per guard?”

Marian took in Drayton, turning her attention back to Vaughn.

“Two. I will inflict one on each guard before you have your turn.”

The side of Vaughn’s mouth pulled back, and he gave a slow nod.

“Two, it is. You go first.”

Marian turned, looking between the two nude guards, but she didn’t move. Bram called out.

“Marian, you’ve got this. Think about what they’ve done to you. Don’t hold back. Not for anything.”

Slowly, she walked to the cart between the two men.

“Mmm-grmmm.” The larger guard thrashed, and she looked up, right into his enraged face. The entitlement had me gripping tighter into the stone. Yes… these guards were going to learn. Things were going to have to change.

Marian grabbed the handle of one of the large knives, drawing it in close to her body. The guard thrashed as she took him in.

“Mmmm-gggmm.”

Hate. So much hate was projected at her. I saw the moment something switched inside. Marian’s straightened and her shoulders drew back. She pulled up one side of the wedding dress, stomping forward and grabbing his dick. Grabbing the weapon he’d used to destroy pieces of her.

More, he thrashed, but she held tighter, squeezing. She lifted the knife and began sawing through the thick muscle. Blood sprayed out, speckling the white silk of her gown. Back and forth, she went, letting the blade split through the layers. Within seconds she was slicing through the bottom and dropping it to the floor.

Muffled screams were deafening, and they were coming from both men as she headed for the next.

“You liked to watch. To touch.”

Her voice was soft, but I could still hear it from where I stood in the hall not far from her. The statement came more as a whisper. It quickly got drowned out as she thrust the knife up, letting the tip of the blade sink through the center of his right eye. Red raced over his bottom lid, and she twisted the blade in the socket. She circled it around and jerked back. Blood ran a river down his face, dripping on the floor as his head swung back and forth violently.

I stayed glued to the scene in horror… in a grotesque satisfaction that I couldn’t begin to understand. Grunts pulled me from the scene, and I turned to take in Vaughn, using a knife to carve into Drayton’s chest. A part of me cracked inside, and the level of approval that seemed to seep into the crevices at the circumstances left any fear I had subsiding.