Chapter 112

"Imagine what you can get for his fated mate?"

Giselle was far more terrifying than Magnus. Blood dripped from my nose, slowly creating a small puddle at my feet and my shoulders ached from the angle they were set at by my bindings, but it wasn't the king's wide-eyed stare that had my heart rate picking up. It was her slow smile, baring all of her teeth that had my whole body going rigid.

"Fated mate?" Magnus stepped forward, staring at me as if he saw me for the first time. "Lady Ariel?"

"Ariel?" Giselle's frown was a mirror of my own. We both stared at the king, but I wasn't sure he saw us.

"Of course…" Magnus' hand struck like a snake's dragging me out of Giselle's grip. "The Raven brought me to you."

"Yes, but—" I tried to say.

"I know the fiend I was forced to call brother has turned your head with pretty tales." Magnus drew closer, seeing my bound hands for the first time, my arms shaking as his fingers slid along the curtain tieback Giselle had used to bind me. "I know he has promised that you will be queen by his side, but you have to know that these are lies. Arik is the king's by-blow. My father never should've let him within ten feet of the palace. At the very best, his mother could've been set up in some small manor in the borderlands. By bringing him to court, my father allowed rebellious lords like your father to nurse terrible ambitions."

I sucked in a breath as his hand wrapped around my bound wrist, tightening the grip both he and the rope had on me. This was instantly regretted as his stink filled my nose.

"They think that they can place their puppet on the throne, control all of Khean through Arik, but you can stop them."

I let out a hiss of pain, the impression of the silken rope branded into my skin, but that one sound had him jerking his hands back as if stung. His fingers unpicked the knot over Giselle's protest, but he waved her off. The rope was unwound, blood rushing painfully to my hands.

"You're the only one who can stop the war that's coming," he said, as gentle as a maid as my bindings were tossed aside. Magnus checked my wrists and then rubbed the skin, as if that would remove the marks left there. "You're the only one who can prevent countless men from dying on the battlefield. Mothers will weep for the loss of their sons, children for their fathers."

I stared at Magnus, trying to look past those partially unfocused eyes and into that diseased brain of his, to determine what devil rode him now.

"This is not Lady Ariel—" Giselle started to say, pushing forward.

"Silence!" All of the king's conciliatory mood was gone as he lunged at Giselle, teeth bared and snapping on the air like a rabid dog. The analogy wasn't a bad one, because his mind appeared to be fevered by whatever we had instructed Desi to put in his food. "You will not speak so in front of your betters!"

I caught the moment when Giselle's gaze went perfectly flat, all emotion scrubbed from her face as she lowered her eyes then dropped down into a very graceful curtsey.

"Of course, my king."

Magnus seemed somewhat mollified by this, nodding then drawing himself up to his full height.

"Choose me," the king said, extending his hand. "Choose to become queen in reality, not just in my brother's fevered dreams. Choose peace for our country and all that lives in it. Let us join my house and Fallspire's so as to stop this madness from transpiring."

"Oh…" My whole body quivered as something very unwise rose within me, but I was at the end of my tether. I had been scared and angry and shamed and dismissed in ways I couldn't count and I just couldn't seem to keep it all down. After years of learning to hold my tongue, I failed right at the worst possible moment. "I think we're well past the point of madness." My hand rose to point at him, shaking despite the fact I was trying to lock my muscles down hard, but the other? It went to my skirts, finding the slit there and my knife. Magnus was mistaking me for Lady Ariel? Well, I would say the things that she didn't dare, I was willing to bet. "You're well past the point of madness if you think I'll ever marry you."

Every muscle in his face tensed then, forming hard lines that just got harsher as his brows creased and his mouth jerked down at the corners. That wasn't what I focused on though. My eyes analysed his stance, the set of his shoulders, searching for those signs Silas taught me to lookout for, of the moment his weight shifted slightly. I whipped out my knife, ready to let it fly straight into his chest.

"Oh no you don't."

She slapped her hand around my wrist, thumb digging into the hollow there, pressing down on the muscle until it spasmed and the knife fell with a clatter on the floor. That's when I knew I'd done something so very stupid. Silas hadn't had a chance to teach me how to maintain my grip under this sort of onslaught. I had no means to work my way free of Giselle's hold, only a need to slap my hand down to retrieve the next knife and the next. Arik had ordered them to be strapped all over me, but in the end, none of it mattered, because she gripped both of my wrists and jerked me closer.

"You little idiot. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you where you stand?" She went to shake me again, but that was when the king intervened.

"No!" Giselle looked like a starving hound being denied a tasty bone, her eyes rolling slowly sideways to watch him approach. "Unhand her!"

But if I thought this was my moment to get free, I was mistaken. Giselle threw my wrists down, but Magnus was there to take possession of them, my body feeling like it was ready to recoil.

"Don't touch me…" I said in a low whisper, over and over, unable to control the shiver that went from toes to head at his touch.

"You choose him?" There was almost a plaintive air to his question. "You choose the bastard?"

And that was when I understood Lady Ariel. If I was standing in her place right now, she'd been forced to answer the same question and I hoped she did the same. Bile filled my mouth and rather than swallow it, letting the liquid burn me, I spat it into his face.

"Every time," I snapped. "I choose Arik every time."

I hadn't learned anything at all, it appeared. My nose was aching dully from Giselle's slap, but that was nothing compared to a blow from the king. He might be jittery, weakened, yet still my head snapped sideways, rocketing on my neck, as his hand slapped my face with all of his strength.

What the hell had I done? My equilibrium was destroyed as I staggered back, pain exploding in my head but not fading away. I let out a little whine, my throat working, my chest filling, needing to let out a much louder sound, but I couldn't. My reality had been exchanged for one created from agony, the beat of my heart like massive drums being played inside my head.

"Well, women can't be trusted to make the right decisions," he said, grabbing my hand and hauling me along, forcing me to stumble after him. "I gave you a choice, but now I fear I'm going to need to insist."

"My king!" the guard said, running to catch up with us. "My king, we must get out of the city if we're to have a chance of surviving."

"There is no need for that. I'll marry Lady Ariel and then force her father to accept my conditions. If he calls off his dogs, his daughter will become queen and give birth to the next king. And if he doesn't…" I blinked repeatedly when he stopped, trying to see him clearly, but all I caught was the maddened look in his eyes. "Well then, the duke's daughter and my brother's love will die from an unfortunate accident." He stared at me. "And another will take your place."

This was how it happened. The thought was like a single high pitched shriek inside my head. This was how it all began. Ariel fought Magnus somehow and no one came to rescue her. A sob escaped me without meaning to and that just made the king smile. It got wider with each tear that dripped from my eyes. My nose was already swollen beyond recognition, but now it clogged with tears, every breath a fight to take.

"Another and another…" I croaked out. "Until someone stops you. And they will."

"Stops me?" He bared his teeth at me. "Nothing and no one will stop me. I am the King of Khean. All will bow before me."

But not me. I might not be able to attack him, cut him down, have him bleeding out on the marble floor, but I could dream it. His terrible demise, I saw it, and I imagined he did too in my gaze. His face flushed even redder, his jaw working, but he shook his head, dispelling his madness for just a moment.

"Now come along. We are due in the grand nave. A wedding will take place and when you are my wife, I can begin teaching you exactly how you will need to behave."

I tried to dig my feet into the floor, but my slippers just slid across the smooth surface. Every muscle ached as I tugged and tugged against his grip, yet still he dragged me on. Through narrow corridors, then out into the night, crossing a great courtyard to stand before the magnificent cathedral of Khean.

Of course this was where I ended up. Every moment since I left my father's castle was spent trying to avoid this fate and yet here I was. I couldn't marvel at the architecture or dwell on the beautiful stained glass. All I could do was stumble on after Magnus.

"Priest!" the king shouted. "Priest! I need a priest!" A snowy haired man emerged blinking like a mole, still dressed in his bed shirt. He took the state of me in and the king, going pale at the sight. "Get your robes, Father," the king barked. "Actually don't bother. It's not ceremonial gowns that will officiate this." I was thrown down in front of the altar, but when I went to scrabble away, a booted foot slammed down on my hand. My cry echoed throughout the cathedral, but not before Giselle stepped forward.

"This, again?" She looked at me, the king and the altar up and down with a curl of her lip. "You don't need to marry the girl. She's our only bargaining chip!"

"In a treaty that the likes of you would never understand!" the king roared back. "I will bind Fallspire in paperwork, make it so he would never dare lift a finger to me, then I'll march against my brother with the entire royal army at my back."

"The royal fucking army is in the palace, ransacking it as they look for you!" she shouted but then blinked as she considered her own words. "For you…" Her focus darted sideways to the last guard standing by his king. "Gerald, we need to get clear of the city now. If they catch us…"

"Ready when you are, Lady Giselle," the guard replied, as if just waiting for this moment.

"We'll need coin, gold for the road."

It was a relief that I was no longer her focus, but not one shared by the head priest. She snatched up golden reliquaries and votives, the priest making a small sound of protest right before she shot him a filthy look. He'd let a few sacred objects go if that was what it took to keep her away from him, that became clear and then she swept from the nave with the guard in tow.

"Now, Holy Father, I realise this is highly irregular," Magnus said, the effort to sound reasonable evident in his tone. The priest looked down at me, and I shook my head slowly. Could a priest succeed where I failed? I watched his Adam's apple bob and felt hope slipping away. Magnus was just like the rabid dog I'd deemed him before. People gave him a wide berth for fear of catching his disease, or having that ferocity turned on them. "But I am going to have to request… no, demand that you marry me to this woman now."

"My king, the city is in an uproar," the priest said. "We were just in the process of opening the doors to allow the people to take sanctuary. Are we under attack?"

"Yes." Magnus grabbed me and thrust me forward. "And this marriage is the only way to avoid a war that will tear this country apart. The Duke of Fallspire attacks the city. The Lanzenes and Mattenites are amassing at the border…" Magnus stumbled then, the two realities colliding inside his head. "All will be lost unless—"

"Of course, sire, but do we have time for the full ritual?" the priest asked, eyeing the doors of the church. The noise outside was growing louder.

"We don't. Marry me to this woman—"

"No." I squirmed then, fighting his hold, but what we had put into his food seemed to make him stronger, not weaker. "No, no, I don't want this. I do not consent."

"Use whatever words needed to bring the gods' favour down on our union, but remember that each one you use brings the potential for more conflict." Magnus looked around the church as if seeing it for the first time. "One that may find its way in here."

"The grand nave is built on sacred ground," the priest said, outrage bleeding into his voice. "No matter what goes on beyond that door, all know violence must never be brought past our threshold."

"What about this act of violence?" I asked, jerking my arm out of the socket, it felt, in an attempt to get free. The bruises on my wrists just made the process even more painful, forcing tears to slide down my cheeks. "What about what is being done to me?"

"Sire, I—" the priest started to say, staring at me.

"Violence doesn't have to besmirch your most sacred of spaces," Magnus said, drawing a knife and holding it pointed towards the priest, the threat obvious. Whatever concerns the priest had, he lost every single one of them when it was his life threatened. He shot me an apologetic look, but that wasn't enough, not as he nodded to the altar. I was dragged closer, hopeless sobs filling my chest as Magnus took his place.

"It is customary for the bride to be asked if she agrees to the terms of the marriage," the priest said, hastily slinging a ceremonial cloth over his shoulders.

"She'll say yes." Now that he had cowed the priest, the knife was directed at the only remaining dissenter: me. It was pressed against my neck, my pulse beating frantically as I felt that tiny starburst of pain.

That's when I truly understood Ariel.

How could she have chosen Magnus over Arik? How could she have allowed this to happen? That was the thing about Magnus, his insanity meant that no one could choose anything other than what he wanted and live. Buoyed up by aristocratic support, privilege and accident of birth, he said this was the way it was going to be and it was. It was only now I realised the true horror of her fate. She was just a gently reared girl, trying to navigate a fraught space, isolated from her allies, alone and unable to defend herself. And that had my teeth grinding together. The sensation was mirrored by my wrist as Magnus held it so hard it felt like the bones did the same.

"Say what needs to be said, Father," Magnus growled.

This was the moment that my lovers, my mates, rushed through the door. As the sound of fighting grew outside the door, I was sure they would. To run in and call a halt to this entire thing. Roan would stab his sword into Magnus, Silas, his knives, and Creed would roar before slashing open the mad king's throat with his claws. All of my big, beautiful men would save me from the one fate I had done everything in my power to avoid.

Instead, the priest delivered my death sentence.

"You may now kiss the bride."

My breath was coming in faster, my lungs unable to fill. Eyes wide I stared at the priest, then Magnus in horror. I wanted to fight my way free, kick, scream, anything, but instead I just watched a smile of triumph spread across Magnus' face.

"Finally, you are mine."

His eyes fell closed, his lips pursing, right as the doors were shoved open, and I turned away, feeling his loathsome kiss slide along my cheek, leaving a snail trail of saliva behind.

But only that.

Silas' eyes burned ferociously green in his too pale face, his knives coming out and then sailing through the air, only to hit Magnus with a satisfying thud. His hand spasmed as he screamed high like a girl, but I exploited that moment of weakness. I was pulling free, then whirling around, snatching up my knife with a snarl. Creed was a wolf shifter? I heard his roar now, and it was a mirror of my own, much thinner one. I gripped the hilt tight, just as Silas had told me and then went to stab it down.

"Not yet, lass."

Arik's voice was quiet, still and when his arms wrapped around me taking my knife, I shuddered. My nervous system was in riot, shaking, trembling, not sure if I should be struggling to get free or collapsing altogether.

"I know you want to kill him. I want that too, lass, you know that. But you…" His hands moved slowly, gingerly towards my bruised wrists, and then I felt him tense. "You deserve to be the one to end him, but I'm going to have to ask that you let me be your champion in this."

"You'll kill him?"

I spun around in his arms, my eyes not knowing what to take in first. His look of fury and concern, Silas pale and shaking, but Creed? He was in his half wolf, half human form and both took in my state before a deafening snarl filled the massive space of the church.

"No, brother," Arik said, keeping me close as he stood between Creed and Magnus. The fallen king gasped and thrashed on the ground now. "A duel has to be held. It needs to happen in the throne room. I must best my brother to take the throne."

"I care nothing for crowns or thrones!" Creed roared. "Any that dare to lay a single finger on my mate must die!"

"That he will." Roan came walking in through the doors looking too pale, too worn down, but he tried to smile for me. "It will be finally done, but once the commander has beaten this fucking prick down, you can give the people what they want." He sneered as he looked down at the scrabbling Magnus. "His head. Let Arik do this and then you'll have what you need."

"This is a duel for succession?" the priest said, working hard to stand tall in the face of their collective gaze.

"Ring the bells, Father," Arik said, pushing me into Creed's arms as he strode over to Magnus. The king let out another shriek as his ‘brother' picked him up by his hair and then started to drag him forward. Magnus' hands slapped down on the floor, Arik's hands, his legs, but then my prince twisted his grip tighter, forcing Magnus into submission. "A king will be declared before the sun sets again and only the gods know which one of us it will be."