5. Chapter 5

Chapter five

C allum had elicited a few more orgasms out of me until my body could no longer handle it, legs shaking, sore enough that I laid in the bath longer than I normally would have. I was aware that my sexual appetite was strong. I could never seem to get enough, but Callum’s could possibly rival my own. He fucked me enough to quelch the fury inside of me at that bastard’s words, if only momentarily.

I lathered a sweet-smelling tonic in my hair and sat against the back of the tub allowing the hot water to soak in my skin, melting the tension from my body. I took deep breaths and prayed that time could do my bidding for once and slow down so that I could evade sleep. My bathing ritual after fucking Callum was the last task of the day; the last task before I tucked my body within the confines of my bedding and closed my eyes only to be accosted by the nightmares.

It was always too much to handle and I would stay awake for the remainder of the night until dawn once again greeted me with its presence and the cycle would start over again.

Day and night. Night and day.

The days bled together and the only reason why I gave a damn was because of the two broken souls that resided with me. I had promised each of them that I would keep them safe so long as they followed my rules and did as they were told. And since they had, they’d made themselves essential to my life.

Both served a purpose and continue to prove their loyalty and usefulness. I treated them like my subjects, but respected their wishes…to an extent. If I kept them at arm's length then they couldn’t make me weak.

And yet, I felt it now. A strange vulnerability, a lack of control. I didn’t know if the hunter had friends, if they’d storm my lands. How many more would come? I needed to know.

To sulk away in a dark corner. They’ll die like all the rest have.

“No Circe. They won’t,” I rubbed my hand against my face, annoyed that she would invade my thoughts so soon after the last time.

That hunter in the tower? Will you kill him?

“He may be a hunter, but he is still just a human. He will die once I get the necessary information out of him.” If I didn’t find out how many more were on their way, my humans could perish. That couldn’t happen.

What if he is innocent? You can’t keep him here. You’re to kill him or he’ll tell everyone your secret.

She was right, just like always. I couldn’t deny it.

“Will you just leave me alone for one fucking moment?”

Such vulgar words. What would your dear father say?

I immediately stiffened at the mention of my father. I gripped the edge of the cast iron tub until pain radiated throughout my hands.

I closed my eyes and ground my teeth together as her laughter rang throughout the room, so loud that I had to hold my hands against my ears to try and stop the noise. No matter how hard I squeezed my hands, the sound wouldn’t stop. She kept on going and going, getting louder and louder until I snapped my fingers and a full glass appeared in my hand.

My venin.

I didn’t waste any time and downed the entire glass in one go. The moment I finished it, the voice started to fade away into the background. As if there were an invisible wall that shut her out instantly.

That never keeps me out for long .

I took a deep breath, once again met with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. I opened my eyes as I brought the glass up to my face and turned it over, staring at the remains of the red liquid. I knew that one sip of this drink could kill a human the moment the liquid touched their lips. I brought the glass up to my nose and inhaled its toxic scent. Praying to a worthless god that this one glass would finally do its job and take me away from this never-ending hell.

I still drank poisonous wine every day. Though la venin was only used when I needed my mind to calm. When the raging in my soul couldn’t be stopped by fucking or killing. When the nightmares were so palpable I would wake drenched in sweat.

I sighed as the rest of the effects began to work. My body began to melt into the tub and my fingers started to tingle. I dropped the glass, hearing it shatter in the recesses of my mind as I slowly blinked, loving the numbing effects of the poison, and sighed, looking around the room that I had come to memorize.

The ceilings were high, with intricate patterns coated in the most expensive gold dust that money could buy. The flooring was made of ceramic, the most coveted material at the time. Three windows traveled the length from floor to ceiling directly in front of the tub. The windows were my favorite feature as I could look out over my rose garden and think about the fond memories of my past. The only memories I cared to hold onto with every fiber of my being. And past that was the Forbidden Forest—a name not to keep others out, but me in. The dense forest loomed around the border of my land, mocking me and reminding me of my eternal imprisonment, the invisible tether that bound me to these lands.

As much as I loved my home, I had dreamt of more once upon a time. That was before the curse—before that day. The curse that was placed upon me was legendary, yet no one remembered it. The enchantress was true to her word—only I remembered the truth.

Before I knew it, the water had turned cold. I got out and stumbled to bed for the one hundred thirty-five thousand and fiftieth night in a row.

After the effect of the wine had faded away, I tossed and turned all night long, my thoughts going back to Emilia. Worrying about how this was going to affect her. She had been tormented by that town and now there was a male here from it. I massaged my fingers into the sides of my head, a headache coming on from the stress.

I looked over toward where I knew the tower was and narrowed my eyes at the male as if I could see him. It hadn’t been long since I left him, and I didn’t want to return too soon. He needed to believe that I could leave him up there until the day he died if didn’t tell me what I needed to know.

Yet, it was almost unbearable waiting. I was never good at being patient. As a child, I was scolded for it constantly and after all these years, nothing had changed.

I needed to do something before I completely lost my mind, more than I already had. I got up, threw on a robe, and headed to the library to do a little reading, but I paused as I passed by the large oak door leading to the tower. He wasn’t in there long enough to make a point, but then again, I didn’t have any time to waste.

I growled as I wrenched open the door, stalked up the stairs, and through the small wooden door. I entered the room, and a shiver ran down my spine again seeing him dangling from the ceiling. “So…are you ready to play nice and tell me what I want to know?”

His muscles were so tight from having his arms raised above his head for so long. He was dirty and haggard, a stark difference from the rugged hunter from the woods. His head was hanging to the side as if he tried to get comfortable, shaking from the cold night that he had just endured.

He lifted his head, voice cracking, “You can’t treat people like this.”

“Like what?” I asked innocently, clasping my hands together behind my back.

“You imprisoned me without just cause. I did nothing to you.” His teeth clattered together so hard that he could hardly get the words out.

“As I have told you before, I will let you go once you give me what I want. And what I want is to know how many more of you there are.” I walked over to the table with the weapons and ran my fingers over them, thinking about which one would make him talk.

“And I have tried to explain that I don’t know who you are speaking of. I think all of this was a big misunderstanding.”

“And I warned you not to lie to me again. That there would be consequences.” I could feel my magic stir under my skin, and I knew I was right because his eyes bulged out of his head.

He didn’t have enough strength to struggle. His voice was breathy when he said, “I am not lying.”

I watched as the veins in his arms became more visible while he tensed, his muscles pronounced. I quietly studied him. Could I be wrong? Was he telling the truth?

“ What are you?”

“You said it yourself, a witch.” I could hear the numbness in my own voice.

I raised my hands up to my face and looked at the vibrant shadows twirling along my hands. I could see how petrified the poor human was, and I was delighted by his fear. Unfortunately for him, I was about to get even more terrifying.

“I have magic flowing through my veins, magic so strong that I could kill you with just a squeeze of my hand.” I focused my eyes on his leg and began to slowly squeeze. He screamed out in pain as the shadows surrounded him and did my bidding. I squeezed just enough for him to get the point and smiled. “As you can see, it would be in your best interest to tell me the truth before I break every bone in your body, heal you, and then do it all over again and again until you can’t take anymore.”

“I am here alone!” He spat.

I rolled my eyes, and he hung his head, knowing this would be going nowhere at this rate, and sighed in defeat. “Nothing I say is going to prove my innocence. Nothing I say will make you believe me.”

“Well, I have a rather brilliant idea!” I clapped my hands together, excited to finally dig my fingers into him. I walked until I had to crane my head to meet his eyes above me. “And I will even give you a choice.”

He questioned, “A choice?”

“Yes. Would you rather I use my instruments on you?” Lifting a large clamp that was rusted from the many years of use. “Or magic?” I lifted my other hand with the shadows.

I could see him tense again. “And do what with them?”

I ran a single finger over his taut stomach, teasing. He shuddered. “Choose fast. One… Two…”

“Magic!” He blurted.

I grinned, excitement coursed through my veins.

I swiped my hands toward his chains and unbound them, he crashed to the floor with nothing more than a grunt. I knew that his muscles ached from being suspended. Before he could try to move, I cast my magic into his mind and forced him into thinking that he had to stand up and sit in a chair in the middle of the room.

His body moved, as exhausted as it was, into the chair, and laid his arms on the armrests. He stared straight ahead, and I looked down to find that he was gripping the armrest so hard that his knuckles were white. I laughed to myself as I grabbed a few pieces of rope, and strapped his hands, feet, and torso to the chair. I walked around him until I was positioned behind him, bent over, and whispered in his ear, “Wrong choice.”

My hands moved to either side of his head. I closed my eyes and pictured myself entering his mind until I was in a dark, endless space except for the presence of floating images swirling around the room. I walked through his memories, seeing every moment of his life. From his birth to his first kiss to his first fuck.

When I walked in someone’s mind, I could feel what they felt in that moment like it was my own. It was the only drawback to doing this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

I walked past so many images until the room started to spin, and I was thrown into a rather mediocre-looking home with two small children playing a game together. I took a few steps closer to get a better look, and I could see that my chained-up prisoner was the oldest of the two. He had the same black curly hair covering his eyes and that serious expression he seemed to get when concentrating. He moved a piece on the board and yelled in excitement at his victory. And the other boy with blonde hair kept staring at the board as if he could change it through sheer willpower.

I moved around the room and walked to a door in the far-left corner and opened it to enter another memory. Even though I knew messing with memories had no impact on what actually happened, my rules still applied.

I walked into another memory of him as a teenager with a girl with beautiful blonde hair that was done up in an assortment of braids sitting atop her head. They were in the shadows of a building, and she was leaning against a wall while he caged her in with his body, his head bent forward to whisper sweet nothings into her ear.

Ah, finally… Something fun.

I whispered into the memory, focusing my energy on the girl, and said to her, “Go over to the counter and grab that knife.” She smiled up at the hunter, playfully pushed his body back, and walked seductively over to the counter on her right. He was looking at her like he was ready to devour her.

He stalked toward her until he saw her picking up the knife. I walked over to where she was, standing directly behind her, and whispered into her ear, “Stab yourself in the heart.”

She tilted her head at him, still smiling seductively, and drove the knife into her chest between her breasts, blood spurting everywhere. The hunter screamed and moved to stop her, but it was too late.

I stayed where I was, and saw the look of horror as she gazed down at what she did and started crying hysterically, crumbling to the floor as he ran forward and caught her.

I focused on her once more and said, her mouth forming the words at the same time I was talking, “Why would you kill me? Why would you do this to me? It is your fault.” She choked on those last words and relaxed into his arms, eyes glazing over. Dead.

He was breathing rapidly, tears in his eyes, chest heaving, hugging the lifeless woman to his chest. Looking around, trying to find the answers in the room. I knew that he was crying in the chair because the emotions that he was feeling in his memories were the same ones that he would feel in reality.

I would break his spirit for making me feel his heartbreak. Would make him beg me to put him out of his misery by the time I was done with him. He would rue the day that he stepped foot onto my land.

I made my way out of the room and into another that was so bright that I had to shield my eyes. I stood in a beautiful meadow that was outlined by a thicket of trees. Animals were frolicking about, birds chirping, and bees buzzing around feeding on the flowers. The first thing I noticed was that I could feel the heat from the sun’s rays against my skin. I had never been more thankful to feel one’s emotions while in this state.

I lifted my head up to the sky, drinking it in. I hadn’t seen the sun like this in so long that I almost forgot what it felt like. It was so serene that I was almost lost in its beauty when I heard a piercing scream coming from my right. I turned my head and saw a woman and a young boy with black curly hair. My prisoner. He looked to be around five years old here.

I walked over to the two lying on a blanket and found the woman tickling the brat as he tried his best to get away from her, but you could tell that he was enjoying every moment.

I narrowed my eyes at the scene; this wouldn’t do. As much as I was enjoying myself, I had to remember my purpose. While I couldn’t harm the boy, the woman was fair game.

A flash of Mariam’s face flitted across my mind, reigniting the anger over everything that had happened, and the newfound threat this man posed. I refused to allow him to bring anyone else here.

You think you can save your pathetic band of misfits, Callie?

Fuck. Not her again.

I said aloud into the meadow, the two humans below me none the wiser, “Leave me alone. Stay out of my head.”

What? Do you not enjoy our talks?

“No, I don’t particularly enjoy talking to someone who is no longer alive.”

Ha. You were always quick-witted.

I tried to block her out, but she was relentless. No matter what I did, her voice kept getting louder and louder until it felt like it was all around me.

I couldn’t take anymore, I let go of his head, and I was transported out of his memories and back to reality.

I backed away from the chair and leaned against the wall in an attempt to catch my breath.

I only looked up when the man yelled, “Is that the best you got, witch?”

Yes, Callie, is that the best you got?

My rage was in full force as I strode past him without another word. I unbound him from the chair and placed a long chain around his ankle so he could use the pot I put in the corner of the room. I didn’t care to clean him up if he soiled himself.

“Next time, I would recommend choosing the instruments.”

I had barely walked down the steps when I snapped, and a glass of la venin appeared in my hand. I drank it and threw the glass down, barely registering anything past the need to rip him apart.

I could still hear her trying to talk to me, but soon her voice faded. I called out to Callum and met him at the bottom of the staircase leading up to the South Wing.

I paid him no mind as he walked a step behind me and asked, “Your grace?”

“I am not in the mood, Callum.”

“Of course.” I could feel his eyes on me, concerned about what was going on. He waited a moment before he asked hesitantly, “If I may… Is there anything you wish to talk about? ”

I stopped in the middle of the staircase and spun around. “And what gave you the impression that I had anything to talk about?”

I could tell he was nervous. So nervous that he spit out, “It’s nothing! I just–”

“Never mind that.” I stopped to rub my hand against my head and remembered what I had sent him out to do. Putting my anger aside, I asked, “Tell me, did you succeed?”

Callum recovered quickly and said, “Yes, her garden was impeccably kept and I knew it was the one place that she made sure was perfect. I felt as though that is where she would like to be buried if given the choice.”

“Good.” I continued up the stairs.

“Your grace, if I may, I was a little surprised that you wished for me to give her a burial.”

“Oh? Why is that?” I mused.

He widened his eyes and stood straighter. “I don’t mean any disrespect. I think it was kind of you to want to give her a proper burial.”

“You think I’m kind because I took pity on the old woman? I had you bury Mariam because I owed her a debt, that is all.”

“I—well, yes.” He ran a hand down his neck, a nervous tick of his. “And you killed her murderers. They will never be able to harm another person again.”

If I was doomed here forever, punishing the wicked was the least I could do.

“I haven’t heard someone call me kind in a long time.” I cocked my head to the side.

His hands were dirty from digging her grave, and smudges of dirt peppered his face. He was so handsome, and I wanted to fuck him more now that he was a little dirty. There was something sexy about a man having just worked outside that caused my insides to stir.

I sauntered back down the stairs to him, brought my hands up, ran them slowly up his stomach, and stopped at his neck. I leaned forward and ran my tongue up the side of his now exposed neck. I could feel the shiver that ran through his body as his breathing increased. “Am I kind when I open my legs for you?”

“Uh—” His neck had started to turn red.

“Was I kind that one day where I bent you over the dining room table and fucked you with my shadows until you were begging me for release? Edging you until there were tears streaming down your face.”

He gulped, and I could feel his cock growing by the second. I didn’t think I would be able to last for much longer, even my own words were making me wet.

“In this world, we do not have the luxury of being kind . Mariam was kind and look where it got her.” I paused for a moment and saw that he knew I was right, but I was done talking. “You're the next item on my list for the day, Callum. So, should I edge you again or bend you over this railing and fuck you? Or both?”

He nodded enthusiastically, ready for whatever I had planned.

“Unfortunately for you, I am rather impatient today.” I let go of his neck and pushed him hard against the railing, not waiting until we got to my chambers. I pushed him down onto the steps and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. “And angry.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I bunched up my dress as Callum undid his trousers and lined up his cock at my entrance. His cock stretched me, and the feel of him was nothing less than intoxicating. I moved my hips back and forth, and quickly found my release.

I slid off of him, but before I could completely turn away, I could see the confused look on his face. He had yet to find his release.

I turned away fully and walked back up the stairs, calling over my shoulder, “How’s that for kindness, Callum?”

Fuck Callum. Check.

The rest of the day was spent following my damned routine, but it wasn’t as productive as I wanted. Emilia and I had worked in silence again as I couldn’t think straight. She did her best to keep her distance, but it was obvious that I was not going to be the best of company this afternoon.

I stopped what I was doing and glanced in Emilia’s direction as I recalled a memory many years ago.

“You have to kill it,” I told her, watching her hold the rabbit in her small arms. She’d been with me for months and still couldn’t manage to properly hunt. I knew I could do it on my own, shield her from it, but when she decided to leave here, what would she do to feed herself? I had to teach her something. I had to teach her how to survive.

“Emilia,” I said, growing impatient.

She held the rabbit tightly, and it seemed to nuzzle in her arms, making my job all the more difficult.

“It will make a good dinner,” I said. “We put it in a stew, and we’ll be able to eat for days. Don’t you understand? This is how you survive. You kill it and eat it.”

“I’ve named it,” she whispered. “You can’t expect to kill something I’ve named.”

“You just found it. How have you already named it?”

“His name is Chip,” she said, using her fingers to lightly play with its feet. It sat still, calm.

“That’s a silly name.”

“He’ll hear you,” she shushed me.

A smile was creeping up, almost daring to break my carefully placed mask. But this was no laughing matter. “You already have the cow—don’t think I don’t know about the cats you hide under the bed.”

She gasped, eyeing me seriously. “There’s only two.”

“Three,” I corrected. “Do not lie to me.”

“Please,” she begged. “Don’t make me kill it.”

“How will you eat on your own?”

She lifted the fat rabbit up, looking into its dark eyes. “I will survive on berries.”

“You will die, then.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why do you keep preparing me to leave? I don’t want to leave.”

“You won’t always feel that way. I cannot give you a life here, not one that means anything. One day, you will want to see the world,”

“I don’t like the world,” she said flatly. “The world was cruel to me. I want to be here, with you.”

The urge inside me to fight her eased a bit. Perhaps it was too soon to talk of her future, her life outside here, when she’d only just started to feel safe again—and sleep without nightmares.

“I will find us something else to eat, but you cannot keep the rabbit. Set it free.”

She hesitated, and opened her mouth in protest.

“Emilia,” I said sternly.

She leaned down and freed the rabbit from her arms; it was long gone in minutes.

I was brought back to the present with the thought that if anyone were to come here to try and kill me, then there was a high probability that Emilia would be a casualty. No matter how hard I tried to keep her out of it. Or I could agree and allow her to leave, but would she even be able to make it on her own?

Though her feelings at this moment were the least of my worries. Her feelings wouldn’t matter if more humans came. If there was a fight. If she died…

I had been pacing in my chambers for the last hour, wrestling with myself on what was the best course of action. I could feel my power vibrating right under my skin, just itching to get released. The temptation was intoxicating, but I never allowed it the freedom I knew it craved when my emotions were heightened.

I paused by the large balcony doors and closed my eyes, trying to relax my mind and body. Breathe in. One. Two. Three. Breathe out. One. Two. Three. I walked outside to feel the chill of the air on my heated skin and gripped the railing to hold me steady.

I quieted my mind the best I could. Silence—the lack of sound that had kept me company for far too long and now just a reminder of what I had to lose.

I took a breath before focusing back on the task at hand—finding out the pertinent information from that man. I knew that I should wait a few more hours, leave him to starve a little longer before continuing the interrogation. I growled, opened my eyes, and slammed my fists against the stone surface. It didn’t matter that I fucked Callum a few hours before; that prisoner was the only thing on my mind. The voice had been successfully cast out of my head for the time being, but even as the effects were starting to fade, I knew it was only a matter of time before she came back as well. She never left me alone for long.

This wouldn’t do.

I pushed away from the railing, and stormed out of my room, down the stairs, and straight to the tower’s door. I hurried up the spiraling staircase, taking two at a time. Without needing to catch my breath, I threw the doors open and found him exactly as I left him.

I waited for his quick wit and was almost disappointed until I heard him say, “So witch, back for more?”

I narrowed my eyes and walked toward him without a word. I could see that he had something in his hand to use against me, but I flicked it away and forced him to kneel on the ground. I stood behind him as he tried to squirm away from my hands, but grabbed a hold of either side of his head and squeezed tightly.

He screamed as I commanded, “You will tell me what I wish to know.”

I closed my eyes and dove back into his mind aggressively, not caring that the sudden intrusion would cause immeasurable pain.

The darkness surrounded me once more as I filtered through his memories, searching for any image that showed him with those two murderers.

Nothing.

I had grown tired of staring at the images and focused my mind on the memories from the past few days. After finding one that looked promising, I dove into the image by mere thought and was immediately transported into it.

The estate was close to town, as I could still hear the noises in the direction of what I assumed to be the town square. I took in the two-story, stone building in front of me. It had two sets of windows in the front that were evenly spaced out on either side of the large, wooden door, with steps leading down to the neatly paved dirt path upon which I stood. The grounds were expansive which made me wonder exactly what family my prisoner came from.

It was nothing to boast about, but then again this was my first time seeing an estate. We didn’t have anything like that in my kingdom. It must have been a modern way of building homes. I didn’t have to dwell on it long before the prisoner came riding on the back of the horse at such an alarming speed that I jumped out of the way or else he would have rode right through me.

He dismounted and strode up the steps, and I followed along behind him. He hurried through the house and stopped outside of a door. I expected him to knock, but he continued staring at it. He lifted a hand before knocking, and a deep male voice called for him to enter.

I followed closely behind as he opened the door and walked inside. We entered a spacious room that was full of shelves lined with volumes of various types of books, from finances to history. In the middle of the room, a closed window let in some much needed sunlight. The rays made the dust particles in the space much more evident. The room was incredibly stuffy.

“So, have you come to tell me what is on your mind, son?”

I was so preoccupied with looking around the room that I didn’t notice a man standing in the corner, looking at a book on one of the shelves.

The man walked over to the desk and sat in the chair behind it, commanding the room without the need to stand. He had peppered hair, a full beard, and clothes with not one wrinkle. He was immaculate.

If he hadn't just called my prisoner ‘son’, I would have assumed they were related somehow, as they looked exactly alike with only minor differences.

My prisoner stiffened at his father’s words, back straight and hands at his side. As furious as he was mere seconds ago, he reeked of nervous energy; he was afraid of this man.

I walked over to his side and stared at him, willing him to continue and give me something I could use.

Finally, he found his courage, and the hunter said, “Father, this madness has to end.”

The man didn’t even bother to look at him or say anything as he continued reading something written on parchment. He clearly couldn’t be bothered with this apparent nonsense.

The hunter raised his voice as much as he dared. “ La bête de la forêt interdite is a myth! So why do you insist on continuing this tradition?”

My back straightened. They were talking about me.

His father lazily looked at his son—really looked at him. His eyes ran over his haggard appearance, and he took his time in answering, knowing that the delay would anger his impatient son more than whatever he had to say.

When he deemed that enough time had passed, he said, “Just because we have not seen the beast doesn’t mean that it is not real. You know the stories of l'homme tailladé . The group of men was shredded to ribbons, the survivor’s skin grotesquely marred from having to be stitched back together. We are preventing that from ever happening again.”

“And yet it continues.”

His father shrugged. “No deaths in years, son. Why should we stop something that is working?”

“It is a ridiculous superstition. The Church of the Beast, which you head, believes it. Has made it into a deity that you believe warrants yearly sacrifices.”

“The sacrifices are not the only reason to continue on…”

My face paled, no, it couldn't be true. I tried to calm my breathing.

“What do you mean?”

I held my breath.

“You will soon learn the intricacies of leading this town.”

“And what intricacies are those?”

A sly smile played on the man’s lips. “Through fear.”

My mouth had gone dry, and I didn’t have to look at the hunter to know that his skin had gone pale. I could feel the disgust run through him. He was the son of the leader of the village, the village that tossed Emilia to the forest.

I had the son of the very man who sealed Emilia’s fate…and all the children before her.

My prisoner squeezed his hands tightly by his side and replied, “You are willing to sacrifice your daughter just to continue inciting fear in your people?”

“It is an honor to be one of the chosen! Joséphine knows what is expected of her.”

“She is five years old! She doesn’t understand any of this.”

His father’s lips pressed together, and I thought I might have seen a flash of emotion in his features.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I am devastated, Bastian, but plenty of families have given their children to the forest over the years. I don’t have a choice in this.”

His sister was the chosen one this year. How could a father accept this fate of his own child?

Perhaps, the same way yours did.

I gasped when I heard her, glancing around the room at the father and son, feeling like she was inside the memory with me.

Two similar fathers, willing to murder their children for the cause.

A chill ran through me as the room shifted, and my own father took the place of the man behind the desk for a split second. His face was cold, and distant, staring at me as if I were a creature. A beast.

I shook my head, and the memory went back to normal.

“Then save her,” he begged. “Throw her to the forest. I’ll find her, and take her somewhere else. I will run away with her.”

“You will not,” he ground out. “You are needed here.”

“If you think I’m just going to watch you kill her—”

His father surged to his feet, walked around the desk, and punched his son so hard that he fell to the floor. His father stood over him as he yelled, “I expect this piss poor behavior from Soren, not you. My word is law!” Spit flew from his mouth. “Now leave.”

The man walked back to sit at his desk, his face still red from what his son said to him. He picked up some papers and shuffled them around as he said, without looking at his son. “Before I forget, you are to meet with Boniface’s daughter, Mary.”

“No.”

The man stopped mid-lick of his thumb to turn a page and asked, “What did you just say?”

“I will not marry that woman.” The hunter spit blood onto the plush rug. “I will no longer cower beneath you. I will not allow my sister to be your next victim in your inconsequential quest for power.”

“You are my successor, the next head of the town council, and will marry a woman of equal status. Either you choose within the month, or I will choose for you.”

“You are a coward,” my prisoner said as he stood, wiping the blood that dripped off his chin with the back of his hand.

“I think it is humorous that you believe you have a choice in any of this.”

He scoffed. “I do have a choice. And I am choosing to go out and find this beast of yours and kill it. I will even bring back its head so you can mount it on your wall of trophies.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I can see that your mind is already made up. You are as stubborn and pig-headed as your mother was.”

I could feel the anger radiating off of my prisoner, energy so thick that it could rival my own. “Do not speak ill of her.”

His father quickly stood, slamming the book closed. “Remember who you are speaking to.” My prisoner lowered his head in submission. A look that stirred something deep inside me. I looked over at his father, who continued fiercely, “I am warning you, if you decide to do this and something were to happen, nobody will come looking for you. I will make your brother the head of the house and you will be nothing but a stain on the family name.”

“As you wish, Father.” With that, my prisoner turned sharply around and stormed out of the room.

I was shaking with anger. This was the man who was responsible for the last set of children. Not because he truly believed in the myth but because he wanted to control the people of his village. I was so angry that I could hardly breathe. My heart was racing, thrumming violently inside my chest.

Before I allowed the memory to fade, I strode over to the man and punched him through his chest, ripping his heart out. “I promise you this. I will find you and I will kill you.”

The memory faded, and I was back into the main part where his memories were stored.

I was seething and yet confused. My prisoner seemed to loathe his father and despise the Reapings. If he was that against it, why would he team up with Merrill and Claude Or…maybe he didn’t.

Panic swept through me at the thought. I couldn’t believe that. I hurried and swiped through the memories until my face came into view at the gate.

No…

It couldn’t be.

There was not one trace of Merrill and Claude anywhere in his memory. But, how could that be? I was sure that he had something to do with Mariam's death. He had arrived not a day later than them; it couldn’t have been a coincidence. He couldn’t have been telling me the truth.

But, if he was, then…I just tortured someone that didn’t fit the criteria. I had just tortured an innocent man.

I dropped my hands from my tight grip around his temple and stepped back. He hung his head the moment that I let go, and I was, for the first time in centuries, at a loss for words. His body slumped to the ground. He had passed out from the rest of his remaining energy being completely drained.

I hadn’t slept at all that night.

I could have sworn that he had something to do with both of those murderers, that there were others.

Now the question was… What do I do with him? And how to tell Emilia? Should I tell her?

“Your grace?” Callum had pulled me from my thoughts as I was slumped against my chair with a grape pressed lightly against my lips. Callum and I were sitting at the table in the dining hall, having breakfast.

I slipped the grape inside my mouth and asked, “What is it, little bird?”

“Is everything alright?”

I leaned forward, grabbed my glass, and took a long drink from it before getting up and leaving the dining hall.

Before I exited the hall I called out, “Emilia!”

I had too much on my mind to deal with Callum right now.

I walked toward the kitchen doors and as I passed by the tower doors, it opened.

Emilia appeared. “I know that you told me to not feed him, but if you are going to continue to torture him, he needs the basic nutrients to keep him alive.”

I couldn’t stop staring at her, wondering how I would bring up the information I had learned last night. I thought that I was going to know what I was going to say to her when I saw her and called for her to get it over with, but I was, again, at a loss of words.

I hesitantly reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulder.

Her eyes widened. “I am sorry that I went against your orders. I will never disobey you again.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that. I walked through the hunter’s mind last night and I found some harrowing information that I felt the need to share with you.” Best to push through. “I found out that his father is the man who is in charge of the Reaping.”

Her face paled and her body fell to the floor in a heap too fast for me to catch her. I didn’t know what to do as she asked in a gravelly voice, “What?”

“His father is—”

“Gerard Corleone,” she whispered, eyes staring off into the distance.

I bent down so that I could look into her eyes. “The hunter did not approve of his father’s actions. He is innocent.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to say that to her.

She wasn’t crying or anything. Her face was blank, like she wasn’t really there.

“Emilia?” I shook her a little. “Emilia!”

Her eyes met mine slowly as she swallowed hard. Her hands shook as she signed, I don’t remember. Tears appeared at her water line, lips trembling. I don’t remember anything from that night.

Her admission took my breath away. I couldn’t help her. Not with this. I wish I was better at this, and I had to look away.

I felt her tap my hand clenched on my leg and looked back as she signed, Can you… Can you look into his memories and find the man who hurt me?

I took a moment to come up with the right words to tell her, but the only thing that came out was, “Of course.”

I knew there was a slim chance of successfully finding anything because that would mean that the prisoner would had to have been physically around when that particular event happened, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that. The answers for what happened to her would be in her mind, but they had been sealed away to protect her sanity.

I gave it one more moment before standing and asking, “Did he eat anything?”

Without looking at me, she shook her head.

What was that fool thinking by not eating? How long had it even been? Time had always seemed insignificant as I had an endless supply of it. How long could humans go without food and drink?

Killing innocent lives now? Circe mocked.

Shut up, no one was talking to you.

Her laughter rang in my ears and slowly faded away into the background as I rushed up to the tower.