Chapter 82

CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO

Ryker

“Gather closer!” Samael commanded.

Those closest to me exchanged uneasy glances but edged forward until they were on the lawn.

“Closer!” Samay beckoned and waved his hands forward. “Everyone is commanded to gather round to see what will happen to all those who disobey and try to rise against our great king!”

As they spoke and beckoned those near the lawn to move closer, more guards dispersed into the town. They broke apart to enter the homes; cries of alarm came from inside before their occupants fled into the street. The whole time the guards moved, they barked orders for everyone in town to gather at the town center.

“Anyone found in their homes will be punished!” Samael shouted, and the guards tearing through the businesses and homes echoed his words. “ Everyone will attend.”

Murmurs ran through the crowd. They huddled further into themselves and together; some held hands while others hugged their children and loved ones to them.

Their distress only increased their ripe scent as it rippled on the air until it pulsated against my skin. These amsirah were petrified, and I hated it.

I’d fought the ghouls to keep them safe. I’d sacrificed so much to protect these amsirah, but I couldn’t protect them from our kind.

Fuck.

More amsirah poured from the residences and businesses and were pushed toward the town green from all angles until amsirah surrounded it. The guards urged them all closer until everyone was herded in and guaranteed a view.

I searched the street for Ellery but didn’t see her amid the densely packed amsirah. I tried to move through the crowd a little to see if I could spot her from a different angle, but I couldn’t go far and didn’t want to draw attention to myself. It was better if my father and his cohorts had no idea I was here.

Once everyone was gathered around and pushed as close as they could be by the overbearing guards, buckets of water were brought forth and dumped over the prisoners. The water washed away the dirt and blood on their backs.

Some of the prisoners cried out, others started sobbing, and the rest remained eerily quiet. The whispers running through the crowd died. Only the chirrup of birds broke the hush that descended over the town.

When the carriage doors opened, the earl emerged with his two sons behind him. My father and his fiancée followed. Ivan came last.

A murmur ran through the crowd again when the aristocrats emerged, but it quickly died away. Some in the crowd shifted uneasily, but no one tried to slip away; there was nowhere for them to go.

From inside another carriage, servants removed a throne for Ivan to sit on. The servants placed it only twenty feet away from the middle of the line of prisoners.

Ivan settled himself on the throne, and the other nobles stood behind him as someone handed a guard a whip. The guard stared expectantly at Ivan while waiting for the king to signal him.

Ivan sat, basking in the fact every eye in Nottingshire was on him… for now. And then he gave the signal, and the guard walked over to stand behind the first prisoner.

The man’s face was expressionless as he held the whip against his side. No one breathed as the guard lifted the whip and unleashed it with a crack.

The crowd gasped, and the man grunted from the impact, but he didn’t scream… yet. The odd hush that descended over the town was broken only by the crack of the whip slicing across the man’s flesh.

Blood sprayed through the air, and the man’s skin peeled away as the whip fell again and again and again. The man started screaming as the guard flayed his flesh to the muscle and then the bone, but the guard was unrelenting as the man’s voice became hoarse from screaming.

I knew exactly what he was experiencing; I’d felt this destruction of my body many times from my father and then the ophidians. I knew what it was like to be trapped, at the mercy of others, and unable to defend myself as monsters stripped away my flesh and dignity.

Memories swamped me in their haze of misery, but I battled them back as Ivan, finally content with his pound of flesh, called off the guard. The man stepped back and wiped the sweat from his forehead before lowering his arm; blood dripped from his face and the tip of the whip as another guard came forward to take up a position behind the second prisoner, a woman this time.

She held back for longer than the man, but eventually, she started screaming as her sobs filled the air.

I’d seen enough, and while I’d prefer to retreat from this show, the guards would notice. Instead of watching, I searched for Ellery but didn’t see her.

Over the top of the sea of heads, my eyes found Tucker’s, and our gazes locked as the whip cracked. In his eyes, I saw the same fury that simmered inside me.