Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Don’t look.

That’s what I kept telling myself as I was led through the inn, keeping my gaze trained on the backs of the Rae and the Hyhborn knights. My legs and arms were shaking so badly I was surprised I could actually put one foot in front of the other.

Grady had been taken from the chamber a few minutes after those . . . those screams had stopped. I didn’t see Prince Rohan or Lord Samriel as I walked, Lord Arion beside me.

Don’t look.

But the taproom floor was sticky and slick beneath my bare feet and there was a smell here that hadn’t been when we entered earlier that night. A biting, metallic scent mixed with a too-sweet one. Pungent. Overwhelming.

I looked.

My eyes skated to my right, and I stumbled as I saw the owner. Buck. I saw others I didn’t know the names of. Some were half dressed. Others didn’t have a stitch of clothing on them, but all of them were nothing more than bodies now.

Bodies were splayed across tables, missing limbs, and others hung from the second floor, draped over the railing of the staircase. There was so much blood. It looked like a wild animal had gotten ahold of them, clawing open their chests and stomachs, leaving their insides on the outside. Hanging from them. In clumps and pools on the floor behind them. Someone . . . someone was burning in the fireplace. I’d seen so much violence, but this was—

Bile rose so quickly there was no stopping it. I turned, bending as I vomited water and what remained of the stew I’d eaten hours ago. I heaved until my legs gave out and I hit the bloodied floor on my knees, until my stomach cramped and tears streamed down my face.

Lord Arion waited silently through it all, speaking only once I quieted. “Is that all?” he asked as I shook. “Or will there be more yet to come up?”

I shook my head. There was nothing left inside me.

“Then stand. We must be on our way.”

I rocked back. I didn’t know any of these . . . these people, but there was nothing they could’ve done to deserve this.

“Why did this happen?” I rasped, throat sore. I had to know what could drive a living creature to be this cruel to another, because I couldn’t fathom such destructive evil. It didn’t matter what I’d seen in Archwood. This brutality was something else entirely. “Why did you all do this to them?”

There was a heavy sigh, one of boredom or impatience, maybe both. “Why not?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“I was kidding,” he said as if that somehow was better. “One of our knights got a bit out of hand. The screaming started, and well, Prince Rohan is not a fan of such annoyances. If they had only stayed silent, they might have lived to see the sun rise.”

“They . . . they were slaughtered because someone screamed?” My voice pitched high.

“I can see that answer displeases you,” Lord Arion noted. “Will it help you regain your footing to know that most of the town has been left untouched? Because I do hope so.”

Mostof the town? I thought of the wails Grady and I had heard coming from outside the inn. Were the ones not so lucky left like this? Split open and left to rot when the sun did rise like they had been in Archwood?

“Do you not care for lowborn at all?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. Or I thought I did. I knew that the King had taken little interest in us, but this was . . . it went beyond anything I believed the Hyhborn capable of. “Does the King think this is okay?”

“The King abhors violence,” Lord Arion replied. “He also abhors dens of vice and sin. He would see this for what it is. A cleansing. There was no life of value lost tonight. Now, we need to continue.”

A bone-deep rage unfurled, chasing away the coldness of terror and disbelief. My throat burned with my fury. “Fuck you.”

Fair brows rose above the black-and-green eyes. That was all I had a chance to see. He moved so fast.

The blow he landed stung my cheek and lip, knocking me to the side. I threw out my hands, catching myself before I hit the floor. Burning, throbbing pain radiated across my jaw, up the side of my head. Blood soaked my palms as I breathed through the ringing in my ears.

Good gods. . . .

This wasn’t the first time in my life I’d been struck, but I’d never been hit so hard that I could hear ringing in my ears.

Blood coated the inside of my mouth. I spat, wincing at the sharp spike of pain from a tear in my lip. I tentatively ran my tongue along my lips, half surprised that no teeth had been knocked free.

“Look at me.” His whisper touched my skin like a breath of winter.

I drew back, sucking in a short breath as I lifted my head to the Lord once more. The lamplight was bright here— brighter than a few seconds before. Tiny hairs along the nape of my neck rose as power charged the air.

His smile grew. “Listen to me.”

Before I could take another breath, his voice reached inside me and seized control. An unseen weight settled on my ankles first and then traveled up my legs, circling my waist and wrists, slipping over my shoulders. A quick, sharp pain lanced my skull, and then the pressure was there, filling my mind, and every breath I took tasted of . . . of mint.

The center of his eyes— where the blots of green ringed his pupils— brightened and expanded until only a thin strip of black was visible. “Stand,” Lord Arion commanded.

I didn’t want to. Every part of my being rebelled against it, but my body moved without conscious effort. He’d seized control of my body— my will. I rose.

The Lord brushed his cloak aside, grasping the black hilt of a sword. Lamplight glinted off the lunea blade as he withdrew it, leveling the pointed end at my chest. “Walk forward.”

A foot lifted, then another.

He smirked. “Farther.”

My heart thundered as I stared at the wickedly sharp edge of the sword. He was . . . he was going to have me impale myself? No. I wouldn’t do this. I couldn’t do this. No, I whispered, then screamed the single word, over and over, but none of those sounds made it to my tongue. My hands opened at my sides, fingers splaying wide.

“Interesting,” the Lord murmured. “Look at me now.”

Pressure expanded in my head, sending spikes of agony through my temples until my gaze returned to his. Only then did the pain retreat.

The green in his eyes pulsed. “Walk forward.”

My feet dragged across the bloodied floor. One foot. Then the other— and a sudden, sharp pain radiated across the right side of my chest, stealing my breath even as I took another step.

“Stop,” he demanded.

I stopped.

The Lord pulled the sword back, holding it up between us. The very tip was glossy with blood— my blood. “I could order you to slit your own throat on this blade and you’d do it.” He lowered it, resting the sharp blade against the base of my throat. “I could have you on your knees and your mouth around my dick. I could have you take this sword and go from house to house, disemboweling those who sleep. Do you understand me?”

Disgust joined the mint taste in my mouth as my lips moved. “Yes.”

“Good.” The Lord inched the sword down. “Now, did you get a good enough look at those around you?”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“You can either do what you’re told or live to regret not doing so. You’ve seen all the many, many ways to find regret. Starting with your brave friend. Do you understand? Say, ‘Yes, my lord.’ ”

“Yes.” My throat ached as the words left me. “My lord.”

He drew the sword over the small puncture wound, dragging a ragged gasp from me. “The only control you have now is in what happens from this moment until you’re handed over to our liege. My orders are to bring you to him alive and in somewhat good condition. Nothing was said about your friend. He is living only on the generosity of Prince Rohan and your actions.”

My hands twitched as the tip of the sword grazed the swell of my breast and then the curve of my stomach before pointing to the floor.

The Lord’s close-lipped smile returned as he sheathed his sword. “It can either be pleasant or I can have you begging for death every moment between now and then. Do you, my dear, understand?”

My lips moved once more. “Yes.”

The green rings shrank until they were once more just blotches in the darkness of his eyes. The weight entrenched into my body lifted without warning, slipping from my ankles and wrists and then my mind. The fuzziness cleared from my thoughts as his— his power retracted its hold on me. Now having felt what a compulsion was like, I understood the terror I’d seen on Grady’s face when we were children and he’d been under one. I staggered back, breathing heavily.

“Now, it’s time for us to go.”

Slowly, I turned around, my movements stiff and jerky. A tremor had started in my hands and had made its way throughout the entirety of my body as I took note of the small circle of blood that stained the chest of my robe. It was nothing compared to what I’d seen— compared to what I knew this lord was capable of. I walked out into the clouded, cooler night sky.

The courtyard was empty.

I barely felt the cold ground beneath my feet as I searched for any sign of Grady and the others. I didn’t see them. Panic took root as all I saw beyond the stone fencing was the outline of a massive black steed, one as large as the horses I’d seen at the Archwood stables. “Where is he? Where are the others?”

“You will see him again.” The Lord strode past, grasping my arm in the process. His grip was bruising, but I didn’t protest. The manhandling was far better than him using another charm and making good on one of his many threats. “He was taken ahead with the Prince and my brother.”

Confusion rose, and then I remembered what Grady had said. “We’re being followed, aren’t we?”

“We’re being cautious,” the Lord said with a chuckle, and I flinched, reminded of Lord Samriel’s apathy. “If we are, they’ll follow the Prince. Not us.”

My heart thudded as I entered the empty, dark street. I had to remind myself that Hyhborn couldn’t lie. If he said the Rae were taking him ahead of us, then that was what was happening. Grady was strong and clever. If he had a chance to escape, he would. I latched on to that as the Lord gripped me by the waist and hoisted me up onto the horse.

The Lord swung up onto the saddle behind me. “Ask another question of me?” he said, picking up the horse’s reins. “And you will find yourself occupying your mouth in a way that will be less grating to me.”

I clamped my jaw shut, and that hurt, causing half of my face to throb. Why did men, no matter what they were, always resort to such threats? As if threatening our lives wouldn’t be enough to ensure cooperation? My fingers dug into the pommel of the saddle.

“Do not fall,” he instructed. “It will annoy me if you do, and you don’t want that to occur.”

With that, he dug his heels into the steed’s sides, and the horse launched into movement. Refusing to use any part of the monster behind me as support, I held on to the pommel. The pace quickly picked up and we were rushing through the dark streets, forcing me to clamp my thighs against the saddle to stay upright. My heart sank as soon as we reached the end of the street.

An orange glow rose above the hill, and the scent of burnt wood grew. Smoke poured into the night, blanketing the roads. I tried to see what kind of damage had been done, but the horse charged on, turning the streets of the unnamed village into a blur.

As we approached the open, unguarded gates of the village, the clouds began to break apart. Silvery moonlight flowed over the road, washing over lumps scattered at the edges. Shapes that were—

My stomach cramped. Dead city guards lay scattered about. Dozens of them as we left the village, the horse’s pace never slowing.

Good gods, how many had died tonight? I shuddered. And all these deaths . . . Was their blood on my hands? Like the blood the Prince of Vytrus carried on his?

No.That one word burned through me, forging my spine into steel. I’d done nothing to cause this. Nor had any of those who’d suffered tonight. This was on the Hyhborn. Grady was right. I wasn’t responsible for Archwood either. The only thing I’d done was be born, but I wasn’t completely free from guilt.

I cared about others, but I obviously hadn’t cared enough. Because I never paid attention to Court politics whenever other barons visited with news and gossip. Whatever I gleaned from them for Claude I quickly forgot about. I didn’t pay all that much attention when news of the Westlands unrest first broke. I used my abilities when asked, when it served me, or simply by accident. I could’ve worked harder at cracking that shield that surrounded Claude and Hymel, and I would’ve been able to, since I’d done it with Commander Rhaziel without touching him. I could’ve learned what Hymel was up to, but I’d been too afraid— not just for Grady but for myself. I hadn’t wanted to jeopardize my life and all the privileges I’d obtained, whether warranted or not. I’d been looking out for him and myself. I was too wrapped up in my own life and my own fears. I could’ve done more. There were so many choices I could’ve made that would’ve changed and maybe even prevented what had become of Archwood.

What had happened here.

So how was I any better than the King at the end of the day? Just because I cared didn’t make me different, because I hadn’t cared enough. And the gods knew I wasn’t the only lowborn who stuck her head in the sand, but I had been in a position of privilege, of protection, where I could’ve done more, and I hadn’t. I thought of how I’d warned Grady to not get involved with the Iron Knights. I had done the exact opposite of more. Because I didn’t want to risk ending up on the streets again. How did that make me any better?

It really didn’t.

The fact that it had taken this for me to realize that sickened me, because now I had to live with those choices.

And who knew how many others would have to because of them.

We stayed on the road for a short period of time before Lord Arion guided the steed into moonlight-drenched meadows with a brutal urging of his knees.

Tall thistle weeds lashed at my legs, stinging my skin, but it was nothing compared to the throbbing in my chest and across my jaw, nor could it compare to the mounting dread of what was to come. The meadow seemed endless, my thoughts staggering over one another as I tried to piece together what I knew to figure out what was coming. How I could somehow make better . . . better choices but still protect Grady— still get him out of this situation.

Icy water jerked me from my thoughts, soaking my feet and the edges of my clothing as we crossed a narrow stream. The shivering ratcheted up as the steed climbed the steep bank and carried us into the . . . the Wychwoods.

Dear gods, there were things in these woods possibly even more frightening than the Hyhborn lord behind me.

When I glanced down at the packed earth, a silly yet slightly terrifying thought occurred to me. Were there still Deminyens in these woods, being created deep underground? Gods, thinking about that didn’t help anything.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. All I could focus on was staying atop the horse and not falling beneath his hooves as he raced at neck-breaking speeds through the maze of trees. I held on, even as every part of my body protested— as my hands and thighs ached. Only when the trees became too crowded together did Lord Arion slow the horse enough that I didn’t feel as if I would fall at any given second.

But my grip didn’t relent, not even as the pieces of sky visible through the heavy limbs lightened, shifting through all shades of blue. I held on.

The horse slowed even more, eventually coming to a near stop. Wearily, I turned my head toward the Lord. He was staring up at the thick clusters of trees taller than any building I’d ever seen. I followed his gaze to where the faint light of dawn struggled to penetrate the heavily leafed branches. The steed blew out ragged breaths as Lord Arion shifted in the saddle—

Something hissed through the air. Reins snapped free from the Lord’s grip as he pitched forward without warning. He crashed into me, and my numb fingers slipped from the pommel. His sudden weight took both of us off the saddle.

I hit the ground with a jarring thud I could feel in my bones. I lay there, stunned for a heartbeat, staring at the patches of . . . of deep violet grass. I’d never seen such grass before.

But that really wasn’t important at the moment.

Lord Arion . . . he was sprawled half on top of me, unmoving. Gathering every bit of strength I had, I rolled him off. He flopped onto his side, one arm still lying across my stomach. I looked at his face—

“Holy shit,” I whispered at the sight of the arrow embedded deep between Lord Arion’s eyes.

Tossing his arm off my stomach, I scuttled back across the ground as I stared at the rapidly expanding pool of red beneath his head. He looked dead, but I didn’t know how powerful this lord was. I didn’t know if he was only unconscious or whether that arrowhead through his brain was enough to kill him. That milky-white arrowhead—

A call came from the trees. Lord Arion’s steed took off, its hooves pounding into the ground inches from me. I pushed onto my knees, twisting toward the sound of the sharp whistle. Through my tangled strands of hair, I saw a dark shape fall from the trees— no, the dark shapes had flown from above.

Ravens.

Dozens of them.

Their black wings cut silently through the air as they flew in rapid circles, coming closer and closer to each other with every pass until they . . . they came together feet above the ground, merging into . . . into one.

Into the figure of a man crouched several feet ahead, his dark cloak pooling over the violet grass like smoke.

A shiver tiptoed its way down my spine, then spread out over my skin. That feeling came over me, the one I first felt as a child.

A warning.

A reckoning.

The promise of what was to come.

But this time, something unlocked in my mind, and out of its darkness, a vision I’d never had before swamped me, and in a flash, I saw what Lord Samriel claimed.

I saw his arms, his hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade plunged deep into my chest—

A cry tore from my throat. Death. I’d seen mine. I’d seen it come at his hands.

“Move. Move, move,” I whispered, trying to get my frozen muscles to unlock. “Move.”

He rose to that impossible, intimidating height as I shoved to my feet. Spinning around, I took off as fast as I could, running back toward the creek. I ran, arms and legs pumping as rocks dug into the soles of my feet. Branches slapped at my hair and cheeks, snagging my robe and nightgown. Every step hurt, but I didn’t stop. There was no time to think about where I was going or the fruitlessness of—

A body collided with mine, knocking my legs out from underneath me. For a moment, I was weightless and falling; then arms snapped around mine. The body twisted, and I was suddenly no longer staring at the hard ground racing up toward me, but at the trees.

We landed hard, the body beneath mine taking the brunt of the fall, but the impact still knocked the wind out of me, and for a moment, neither of us moved. Then he rolled me onto my stomach. Weight pressed onto my back, trapping the entire length of body. My fingers curled into the damp grass.

“Na’laa,”he whispered. “You should’ve known better than to run. I will always catch you.”

I dragged in a shallow breath. A . . . a woodsy, soft smell surrounded me. The scent of . . . sandalwood.

Of him.

My Hyhborn prince. My salvation.

And my doom.