With her hands tied behind her back, she was unable to catch herself. Her shoulder smashed against the floor, and fire ricocheted up her arm. She rolled flat onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. The obsidian was so polished she saw her reflection lying down on another floor, in a parallel world even darker than hers.
They dropped Alaric, and he thumped onto the floor, chains ringing against the stone.
Evelyn rolled to her side before sitting up. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but it was better than lying prone on the floor. Her shoulder throbbed as her gaze skimmed the crime lords. They were all seated on identical thrones. A few crime lords were flanked by people—likely apprentices or servants. A fire roared behind the thrones, and her eyes adjusted to the light, turning the seated silhouettes into people.
Sephtis strode forward and flourished toward herself and Alaric. “Lords—and Lady—of Scorpio, I present the King and Queen of Torva.”
The first man had an eye patch, his grin distorted by a scar.
A woman sat to his right. Raven-black curls poured over her shoulders, shining blue in the torchlight. Swirling tattoos encircled her neck. Her rings clicked as she drummed slender fingers against the stone armrest of her throne. “Despite her human blood, I would have thought her bigger, given that she’s your daughter.”
Sephtis’ amiability dissipated. “She’s not my daughter. And too much of her mother’s blood flows through her veins, always chasing the next man who gives her… pleasure.” He glanced at her, his brows furrowed in puzzlement. He almost sounded uncertain of his statement, but perhaps that was simply her being hopeful.
A man on the far left clapped his hands once, jostling the braided beard that poured down his chest. “On with business. I’d like to rule a kingdom sometime in this eternity.”
Sephtis waved a hand through the air. “Yes, yes, of course. We must proceed, then. Guard, strap the Queen to the post.”
A chill spread through Evelyn’s veins. The guards hauled her to her feet and dragged her to the post. They cut the bindings at her hands before retying her wrists around the post, leaving her back facing the crime lords and her chest facing the post. Her struggles barely slowed them.
“Now we need to wake the King, so he can save his lovely little bride.”
Evelyn peered over her shoulder. The assassin holding the Achilles Gem withdrew while another delivered a heavy kick to Alaric’s ribs.
Alaric jerked awake. He tried to wriggle into a sitting position, but the chains made it impossible to do so. He lifted his head, his eyes glazed with confusion, and glanced at the Scorpio Council. Then his gaze swung to Evelyn.
The chains clinked against the obsidian as he renewed his efforts to sit up. “Release her. This isn’t about her.”
“But it is.” Her father paced toward Alaric, stopping when his boot nearly touched Alaric’s nose. “We request you abdicate the throne to Queen Evelyn and grant her legislative powers.”
He pursed his lips. “She already has full legislative powers.”
What? “Mff?”
The gag muffled her words, but Alaric turned toward her.
“That’s why I was out so long the first day I had access to my powers. I had to convince the Council to grant you legislative powers as well. You nearly have as much power as I do.”
Sephtis shook his head with a blood-chilling smirk. “Quite generous of you, King Alaric, but the Scorpio Council requests only Queen Evelyn have legislative powers. We want her to be the sole ruler.”
“Mmm?” Her father wanted her to be the ruler of Torva? Whatever for?
“And this is why we had you gagged, my dear,” her father said. “Too many questions.”
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to use her as a puppet, aren’t you? You intend to make her the sole ruler, so you can manipulate her. Evelyn”—he twisted to face her—“whatever they tell you, don’t agree to it. They’re going to control you using threats. You’ll be no more than a figurehead who does their bidding.”
Sephtis clenched his jaw. “Do you yield your powers or not?”
“No.” Alaric stiffened, obviously prepared for the worst.
She sucked in a breath, fearing her father would begin kicking him.
Instead, a smile curved Sephtis’ lips before he pivoted and sat on his throne. “Guard, retrieve the fire poker.”
A knot lumped in her throat. She didn’t want to hear the hiss of burning flesh and Alaric’s cries of pain. She pressed her forehead to the post and clung to it as if it were a lifeline.
She heard the boots tap the floor, passing by Alaric. Then they drew near her. She jerked her head up and glanced behind her.
The guard held a metal stick glowing a glorious yellow-orange. He stopped at her back. Her skin prickled, and sweat followed the trail of her spine. They were going to torture her, by her father’s orders.
“Guard, use your dagger and cut open the back of her shirt.”
She pasted her forehead back to the post and dug her fingernails into the wood until splinters pierced her skin. Cool metal grazed her neck before trailing downward, and her nylon shirt ripped quietly as the dagger ate through it.
“Stop!” Alaric shouted.
The dagger paused halfway down the back of her shirt.
“Yes, King Alaric?” Her father sounded amused.
“You can’t do this. Not to your own daughter.”
Fabric rustled as her father shifted in his seat. “You’re correct. I couldn’t do this to my own daughter. Guard, please continue.”
Alaric grunted and sucked in a sharp breath. He was probably struggling again. “Wait.” His voice was soft and gravelly, but the guard didn’t resume cutting her shirt.
“As Lord Dalgar mentioned earlier, we are pressed for time, King Alaric. You would do well not to interrupt.”
Alaric growled in a low timbre. “If you release Evelyn, I’ll yield my power to her.”
“Excellent. I thought you’d come around. Guard, release the Queen.”
The guard circled around to the other side of the post and sliced the ropes binding her wrists with his dagger. Her hands tingled as blood flowed through them. She chafed her wrists, but before she could even walk, the guard clutched her arm and dragged her back before the crime lords. She ripped the gag off her face and swallowed, wetting her cotton-dry mouth.
Sephtis gestured to her. “I’ve released her, as per your request, King Alaric.”
Alaric glared up at him. “She’s not free.”
Her fath—Sephtis’ smirk turned her stomach. “You asked I release her, and I did. Unless you would like to see her once more fastened to the post and the fire poker applied to her back, I suggest you silence your protests.”
Alaric’s expression darkened. “To think she had to endure this for the past eighteen years.”
Sephtis clenched his jaw so quickly his teeth clicked. “You of all people should know she received better than she deserved. She’s a leech, traveling from one man to the next, drinking whatever affection they have to offer before they finally peel her off.”
It felt like she’d swallowed a bucket of ice-water.
Alaric held Sephtis’ gaze steadily. “Are you certain you aren’t confusing her with her mother?”
Sephtis’ expression slackened—but only for the space of a blink. “I pity you. She’s twisted you around her finger, and even with her betrayal”—he nodded toward Draven—“you still think she’s worth your sacrifice. I watched Evelyn, saw her obsession for attention grow as she did. As a girl, she did nothing but chase boys, and as soon as she reached her maturity, she thought of nothing but chasing men.” He grew angrier with each word that passed his mouth, but suddenly he cooled to near indifference. “This is simply who she is.”
The woman in the group cackled. “As entertaining as this is, Sephtis, we have a realm to control. You assured us this plan of yours would see us to that goal, despite complications.” She glanced pointedly at Evelyn. “I suggest you fulfill your
end of the bargain before the rest of us grow too… impatient.”
Sephtis turned sharply toward the woman. “If I’m carrying out the plan too slowly, Raina, then by all means feel free to take over the kingdom yourself.”
A smile slipped over her lips. “Now, Sephtis, you know I didn’t mean that. This is your plan, after all. We won’t be able to accomplish this without you.”
“Really?” Sephtis glanced pointedly at each Council member. “For some reason, I doubt all of you are of the same mind.”
Raina folded her hands, the rings on her fingers tinkling against each other like little bells. “Whatever do you mean, Sephtis?”
“I’m simply wondering which of you dusted my pillow in poison. Given that I’m the Master of Poisons, it was a foolish attempt.”
The Council members glanced at each other, but none of them seemed particularly surprised. Interesting. She’d had no idea the Scorpio were so divided.
Raina cleared her throat. “Surely none of us would dare. Perhaps it was a rogue assassin. After we’ve taken the kingdom, we’ll send our own assassins to investigate.”
Sephtis nodded slowly, seeming unconvinced. “Very well. Guards, retrieve a quill, hot wax, and the document for the King.”
A guard strode near with the implements in his hand and placed them on the floor in front of Alaric.
Sephtis’ smirk had resurfaced. “Now, Your Highness, if you’d like to save your little Hybrid, I suggest you sign and seal the document.”
Alaric clenched his jaw, but the fierceness in his emerald eyes had dulled. A few assassins knelt by him, loosening and refastening the chains, so his arms were freed. He signed and folded the document before using the seal on his wrist to paste the edges together with hot wax.
Her father glanced toward her. “Now, it’s your turn, dearest.”
Evelyn’s gaze flicked to the document and back to her father. Why had her father just given her all of the power? Why not take power from both of them? “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t expect you to. Your understanding isn’t required.” He leaned forward on his throne. “Tomorrow at dawn, you’re going to travel with an envoy of guards back to the palace. Without Alaric. Yes, you have full legislative power, but you’ll only use it when and how we instruct you to.”
She was going to be a puppet. “You’re going to rule the Realm through me? Why not take my power too?”
“Do you agree or not?”
“Answer my question, and I’ll tell you.”
His eyes glimmered with interest. “So you have a backbone. But even spines can be snapped with enough pressure.”
If it weren’t so warm, she could have pretended the goosebumps on her arms were from the cold. She knew he was ruthless, but this…
“If we removed all previous authority figures and appointed one of the Scorpio, we could have an uprising on our hands. As the Scorpio, we’ve earned a reputation that would make the ascendancy to monarchy rather difficult. We need a figurehead, simply for appearances, but we’ll be the force behind the fist.”
Just as Alaric had expected. “No,” she answered.
His eyebrows rose. “No? We have much we can offer you. Take this fine specimen, whom you seem to be quite taken with,” he said, gesturing to Draven.
Draven’s throat bobbed, and he didn’t meet her gaze.
“If you agree,” Sephtis continued, “I could grant you a life with him.”
What was life without the man she loved? The man she chose to love? “No.”
Silence enveloped the room. Torches flickered and crackled.
Sephtis licked his lips. “In case your tiny Hybrid brain can’t fully comprehend what you’ve been offered—”
Raina laughed. “You call her a Hybrid, as if you aren’t one yourself.”
A Hybrid? Well, it made sense her father was part Torvan, since he lived in Torva. Now she knew why both he and Kimberly had such tall, willowy frames. Had her mother really been Torvan too? Or perhaps she was another Hybrid.
Sephtis clenched his jaw, but before he replied, Evelyn spoke, “I understand perfectly.” She lifted her chin a notch. “If I agree, then I’ll do whatever you say, and I get to spend a lifetime with Draven in return. Alaric will be out of the picture, and I’ll be free to be with Draven.”
Her father’s gaze swerved from Raina to Evelyn, lips slightly parted, eyes flared wide.
“My answer remains the same: no. While I care for Draven, I choose Alaric. I’m not leaving without him.”
Vulnerability peeped through Alaric’s expression as his gaze found hers.
Raina snorted, cracking the stony silence. “You do realize you’ve just given us the key to gaining your consent, don’t you?” She snapped her fingers. “Guards, fasten the King to the whipping post.”
Evelyn jerked against her guard’s grip. “What? No!”
Her father stared at her with glazed eyes, surprise still painted across his expression. She obviously wasn’t going to get any help from him.
Two guards curled their hands around the chains and dragged Alaric to the post, their muscles straining with effort. They secured his hands around the post, cocooning them in chains up to the tips of his fingers, and loosed the chains from the rest of his body. They were a good deal more wary in handling him than they had been with her.
Raina clasped her hands at her waist. “Now the question is: whip or fire poker?”
A man with a trimmed white goatee had his chin propped on his fist. He covered his mouth with his hand, as if containing a yawn. “The fire poker. Less blood to clean.”
Raina fixed her eyes on Evelyn. “I’ve heard rumors the King has a particular aversion to whips. Perhaps we should show him the razored ones we have.”
The man flipped his hand through the air. “Whatever pleases you, Raina.”
“Whipping it is then. Slice the back of his shirt open.”
A guard withdrew his dagger and cut a straight line down Alaric’s shirt before peeling it open, exposing Alaric’s broad back. Dozens of scars warped his skin and flecked his wings.
Raina delicately stroked her chin. “The marks of your father’s disapproval, hmm?”
Though he barely moved, Evelyn saw his shame in the tightening of his lips and shoulders. He turned away from her, pressed his forehead to the pole.
The knight flicked his wrist, and the metal whip clinked against the marble.
“Don’t!” Evelyn drew her foot back and rammed her heel into the knight’s shin. Fire shot up her leg. Ah. The knight was wearing armor. Go figure.
Alaric twisted his head around. He leaned heavily against the pole, his body tense, but his eyes were filled with a steely calm. Above all, he’d want to protect herself and his people. But could she do that for him? Was she strong enough to stand this?
Raina’s lips melted into a smile. “With one word, you can stop this. Agree to be our representative.”
Evelyn shook her head. “No. I won’t.”
Raina’s eyes tightened in displeasure. “Whip him. Until he kneels in a puddle of his own blood. Until the flesh melts from his back. Until his own cries shame him.”
Evelyn closed her eyes. The whip whistled through the air before the noise ended with a wet smack. Tremors skittered across her skin.
The whip whistled again. This time, Alaric grunted. She made the mistake of opening her eyes. A gasp stuck in the back of her throat.
Two red streaks crisscrossed his back just below his wings. Blood stained the grooves bright red and trickled down his back. The cuts were jagged and uneven from the razored whip.
The knight drew the whip back.
“Stop!” The shout echoed, and she realized it’d slipped from her own lips.
The woman’s eyes were sharp. “You agree to our terms?”
She couldn’t watch them torture Alaric. Evelyn nodded.
“I knew you’d come to see our perspective.” She glanced at Sephtis—he was obviously the one in authority—
but his expression was distant. “Guards, escort the prisoners to their cells—no, a shared cell.” She grinned. “It is the last night they’ll get to spend together, after all. And, Evelyn, remember: from this point forward, his life is in your hands. Disobey us, and he will suffer dearly.” The woman rose, her cloak rippling in her wake. “We leave for the palace on the morn.”
Goosebumps rippled across her suddenly chilled skin. She’d given up the future of the kingdom for his life, and after tonight she’d never even get to see him again.
26
A Game of Poisons
Stone ground against her palms as the guards tossed her onto the floor of the cell. She curled her fingers, filling her nails with grime.
What had she done?
Alaric stumbled in after her. The cell door collided shut, the sound echoing through the hallways, and the guards marched away, thankfully taking the Achilles Gem with them.
Alaric knelt beside her. “Evelyn?”
She shook her head and sat back, her legs doubled over beneath her. “I’m so sorry.”
The cell was silent save the whispering of their breaths. Then he pulled her onto his lap, his arms curving around her. The chains loosely binding his wrists pressed against her back, the top half of which was left bare from where they’d cut her shirt open.
She nestled closer, but when she tried to curl her fingers around his collar, she found it loose. Likely because the back of his shirt was split open as well. Instead she settled for nestling her face in the crook of his neck.
When would she see him again? When they tortured him to force her into submission? An ache twined her chest. “We can’t give up.”
His arms tightened around her. “I don’t intend to.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Fight until the end.”
A deep voice joined theirs. “Foolish decision. You wouldn’t make it far.”
Alaric’s arms loosened, and she turned to face Draven.
“What are you doing here?” Alaric asked.
She slipped from his lap as Alaric rose and strode to the bars of the cell. The back of his shirt dangled open, displaying the whip marks.
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