30. Kaspian

Chapter 30

Kaspian

THE BOGEYMAN

I silently scale Thornhaven Manor's exterior, finding purchase on the weathered stones. The wind howls, tugging at my clothes as if trying to tear me off the mansion's skin because it's figured out I am no longer loyal to it.

Cav and Wilder are close behind, our movements deft and sure despite not using this particular entrance since we were initiates. Because of the positioning of the cameras, we can make a direct climb starting crouched in the untended bushes below and three stories up without being spotted.

I'd take credit for the risky path, but it was Wilder, annoyed at being caged in the manor by the Sovereigns, who discovered this particular blind spot and was harebrained enough to attempt it. After that, we regularly sneaked out as fifteen-year-olds and attended college parties, most of us losing our virginities to older women.

Me, I was well into fucking by that time.

Reaching the attic window, I pry it open with practiced ease and slip inside, my breath coming out shallow. The three of us group near the original painting of the manor with the pretty gardens, and the sole silhouette looking up at the mansion.

"Ready?" I murmur, though the question is more a formality. We've been primed since the moment Axe went missing.

"We know our roles," Cav says with a sidelong glance, his way of telling me to know my place.

Even now, when one of our brothers is in trouble, the man demands to be on top. Not that I blame him, with the fresh, oozing symbol on his chest being such a brutal reminder of his position in the Court's hierarchy.

"I'm on Elara," Wilder reminds us, his face carved with ferocious single-mindedness. I have no doubt he'll sniff Elara out regardless of how well she and Sasha blend in with their cloaks, and will stay on top of her until this is all finished.

What he does with her while under his supervision is another story, but one I'm willing to allow him to tell, since I'd rather Elara be wholly distracted than targeted and snatched by the Sovereigns.

"Let's hope Sasha's mental blueprint is correct," Cav adds. "The Sovereigns will be in the altar room waiting for us with Axe. This is the one opening we have to access their private wing and their offices. I'll take out any initiates guarding the wing and join you as soon as possible, Kasp."

I nod. Cav must see something twinkling in my eye, because he adds, "Do not act until you have me as back-up. Do you understand? No matter what you see."

My lips press into a single line. We've seen plenty of horrors perpetrated by the Sovereigns, particularly against Axe, but with the reforged Heart in their hands, only their demons know what they plan to do with him now.

"Understood," I lie.

"And if we run into any chicks in chains?" Wilder asks, cocking a brow.

Cav releases a tired exhale. "We do what we promised Elara. Get them out."

Wilder and I give a curt nod, then wordlessly separate, Wilder and Cav taking their designated paths through the manor.

I spin to the painting, tracing the familiar contours of the faded canvas and pressing the necessary panels. Then, there's the shift I anticipate, the opposite wall separating from its confines with a soft groan and revealing the hidden corridor.

Whatever entrance the Sovereigns use to get to the altar room under the manor, it's not this one.

And however they found the second half of the Heart, they've kept to themselves—but I vow to find out. I absolutely despise being one step behind.

Moving swiftly inside, I fade into the darkness as if summoning Axe's spirit and becoming the phantom of Titan Falls's grim past.

The dusty smell of old books greets me as I enter the forgotten Grand Library, being more careful now that I'm aware the Sovereigns could have their own hidden corridor somewhere around.

Rows of weathered bookshelves tower over me like broken teeth against the sickly pallor of flickering candlelight. Navigating through this maze of knowledge feels like slicing through layers of time, each step resonating with centuries' worth of heritage and malevolence.

Behind one shelf, the peeling wallpaper reveals a fresco of men in crimson robes. It's suspect enough that I pull at the corner, revealing the entire image. A woman stands at the center of three robed, masked men. It has to be none other than Sarah Anderton, her image forever captured in an eternal dance with flames. My mind conjures phantom screams, echoing her death cries through centuries of blood-stained stones.

Further on, I reach the desk where Maverick Wraithwood filmed one of his last confessions, a modern pen perched in a cobwebbed quill-holder as though Maverick intended to use it again, the dust-covered wood still holding vestiges of Maverick's final palm prints.

Maverick is dead. There's nothing I can do about that, but Elara's image quickly takes his place.

I feel no guilt over how I last parted with her, naked and confused. I'm not a good man. Never will be. Elara needed to know that. But the thought of something happening to her gets me to do something I never thought I was capable of: vowing deadly violence on anyone who tries to hurt her.

God, I want to touch her all over, paint my cum all over her body while splaying her over this desk. I want to shatter her. I want to own her. Fuck, she's mine.

I never thought I'd want to keep anything worth having.

But right now, Elara's safety is more important than any base desire. And as much as I'm loathe to admit it, Wilder's protection can assure that. So, I'll swallow my pride and let him play the devil dressed as a knight.

And I need to find Axe.

It's with a hot surge of decisiveness that I push away from the desk, my senses heightened, listening for that slight tell in the otherwise stifled air that will lead me to Axe.

I soon pick up the low hum of voices, muted and indistinguishable through the stone walls.

My pulse spikes—I'm near.

The bookshelf at the back end of the library gives way to a stone corridor carved directly into Titan Falls bedrock. The temperature drops as I follow it, my breath misting in the frigid air. All is quiet again, save for the subtle drip-drip-drip of underground water seeping through aged rock.

And then I see it.

Axe, standing shirtless in the center of the altar room. His bare back is the expected canvas of scars and symbols, but with no fresh wounds. He's not strapped down or restrained as I assumed he'd be, but lingers there with an unsettling calmness that belies the ruthless scrutiny of the three Sovereigns around him, their crimson robes glinting in the candlelight, their faces hidden behind expressionless masks.

It makes sense, at first. The Sovereigns have taught him to greet pain like a friend. Axe embraces agony like one would a long-lost sibling. It's no wonder he's just standing there awaiting the next blow.

Until the High Sovereign speaks. With Elara's information, we very easily gave the buried titles to the correct man.

"Is that all you have to give us?" the High Sovereign asks as I move stealthily closer and crouch behind the nearest pillar.

"You found the other half. Isn't that enough?" Axe forces out the sound of his voice, raw and grating .

"Yes, I expect you want us to thank you for telling us about Sarah's vault and the location of the Heart's other half," the High Sovereign responds while the Scourge Sovereign circles closer. "And reward you for your stealth when you pored through Elara's discovery of Maverick Wraithwood's letter to her. It's a shame, really, that the legacy of a Sovereign would expect praise for so little."

The Silent Sovereign cocks his head, like he finds this interesting.

"No," I hiss, the word escaping my lips in a dangerously loud whisper.

Axe, betraying us? But why would he...?

Unless...

"Indeed," the High Sovereign continues. "It seems to me that your brothers may be of the same mind as Maverick. A shame. I had such high hopes for them."

A cold knot forms in my stomach. Axe is their informant. He's been feeding them information this entire time.

Rage rises within me like a sleeping dragon, fierce and roaring, threatening to consume everything in its path. But I don't give it its freedom just yet, keeping it leashed within me under an iron will.

The High Sovereign reaches into his cloak's pocket and pulls out a jagged, glittering jewel that looks like it was made from blood.

"We assumed we prevented any insurgency when we had Maverick killed," the High Sovereign continues. "Little did we know, our own sons, the ones we bred to be unstoppable, wanted us dead. So disappointing. We appreciate your cooperation, Axton, in leading them here so we can cut the three-headed-serpent off at the neck, so to speak."

"Where is she?" Axe asks in a sandpaper-rough voice, shuddering as he does. "You promised to tell me if I did everything you asked."

"She's safe," the High Sovereign replies, his tone as dispassionate as ever. "For now.?

Elara? Did the Sovereigns pull at Axe's strings the way they did ours, dangling Elara's life in front of Axe until he did as he was bid.

A wave of shame cuts through my fury. No. He knew where Elara was. He left her in our bed when he snuck out with her amulet clenched in his hand.

Marianne .

The Sovereigns know where Axe's sister is. Axe's mind is so convoluted, his memories so jagged, that her being alive is the one thing that could get him to turn.

"Then give me her location!" Axe demands, his ragged voice echoing through the hollow chamber. "That was our deal, Sovereign. The Heart for my sister."

The High Sovereign laughs, a chilling sound that reverberates.

"Marianne? I'm shocked you remember enough about her to commit the betrayals that you did." the High Sovereign's voice drips with amusement. "Well, your sweet Marianne isn't here. Unless you believe she's hiding under one of our cloaks."

The Scourge Sovereign chuckles, a deep, echoing roll of sound that bounces off the cave walls, seeping into my veins with the potency of absolute dread. My heart thuds in my chest, resonating in my ears as adrenaline floods my system.

I roll my weakened shoulder, preparing it. Because I'm going to need as much adrenaline as I can absorb when I use all my strength to rip the High Sovereigns' head off.

Axe's stripped voice tries again. "Where is she?"

The High Sovereign encroaches Axe, his vile aura pushing ahead of him. He holds up the ruby—Elara's amulet—rotating it casually between his fingers in a mockery of nonchalance. "A bit impatient tonight, aren't we? Or perhaps you're afraid that now the Heart is whole again, your services will no longer be required."

A door at the back of the chamber we didn't catch before grinds open, a groan of stone on stone that resonates like a death knell. The blood in my body foams into action as a figure is shoved into the room by two others.

Long brown curls tumble over slight shoulders, barely concealing the terror visible in her wide brown eyes. She trembles as she stumbles forward, hands bound together as a black cloak barely conceals her naked form.

Sasha.

The Scourge Sovereign approves of this new development with a corrosive chuckle. The Silent Sovereign applauds with his gloved hands.

Axe's pallor turns bone-white.

"That should be enough to lure the Wraithwood girl here, don't you think?" the High Sovereign muses to the Scourge.

He then turns to the two initiates who'd pushed Sasha into the chamber. "You did well, men. So much better than our top boys. And in a shorter time-frame. Expect to be rewarded with member positions that will soon be vacated."

Sasha straightens, summoning enough courage to spit, "You half-chub twat repellents, if you think Elara will go anywhere near you, you're deluded as fuck?—"

The Silent Sovereign slaps her across the face.

Axe shoots forward, his bare hands going for Silent's throat, but the Scourge intercepts him, landing a crushing blow to his midsection. Axe doubles over with a grunt of pain, but he doesn't stay down. With an enraged roar, he launches himself at the Scourge again.

"This isn't what we agreed on," Axe snarls. "You fucking bastards?—"

The chamber explodes into anarchy as Sasha screams and the two titans clash. They are equally matched in size and strength, their bodies colliding with brutal force that reverberates through the room. The High Sovereign watches on, and I imagine a mockery of mirth twisting his lips as he pries the ruby shard from Elara' necklace and cradles the jewel in his hand.

With each guttural grunt and savage cry from Axe, my restraint frays at the edges. To rip into this scene of utter barbarity, to do something—anything—to stop Axe from wrecking himself against the Sovereigns would be a memory I'd treasure. Training gets the better of me and I stay put, with the full understanding that Axe would never want me to intervene if there was a chance that my staying hidden could save Elara, first.

Wilder better ensure Elara doesn't fucking come near the altar room, but there's always that deadly sliver of a chance she'll be shoved in here, too.

My hand itches for the small firearm at my hip, but it's too risky to use it in such close quarters. I could hit Sasha or Axe, the bullet could ricochet or its sound draw the attention of the party upstairs. The Sovereigns would rather kill everyone in this house than let their secret occult practices be leaked to the public. It's why we were trained predominantly with ancient weapons, like knives and other silent killers. More successful—and efficient—that way.

I don't feel too efficient now.

FUCK.

"Such a futile attempt," the High Sovereign comments leisurely. "Considering the bloodline you come from, Axton, I expected more." He looks to the Scourge. "I'm afraid he is a lost cause as well. You may begin."

"You promised!" Axe roars. " You promised to give me my sister! "

The High Sovereign's laugh spreads like a poisoned fog, seeping into every corner of the room. "And you swore your undying loyalty. Yet, here we are, ending your mortal life."

The Scourge gives a sharp whistle that has me baring my teeth in my efforts to control lunging into the fray. I'm excellent at what I do, but I'm vastly outnumbered, and Cav will be here soon.

I check my phone to see if there's anything from him. Any of them.

No signal.

Of fucking course.

A metallic ring snaps my head up as the same two initiates who dragged Sasha in here bend at Axe's feet, while the Scourge has him in a headlock, Axe's face turning beet red. Through sheer will, he's keeping conscious.

The initiates unlock two of the sturdy iron rings embedded in the stone floor, archaic remnants of the witch trials that occurred here centuries ago. They force Axe's strong, scarred legs towards the cold metal, securing them at the knees with manacles strong enough to hold a centaur.

Sasha's screams fill the room as the two initiates go to her next, but my focus is on Axe.

Bound again.

Prepared to be put to death this time.

The Scourge releases his headlock, retreating only to be replaced by the Silent, who takes hold of Axe's wrists, crosses them behind him, and locks him in place with another set of chains.

Axe is restrained, on his knees, his shoulders pulled back, his neck straining to hold his head up, but my boy keeps that defiance on his face, his turbulent breaths and snarling expression a testament to his indomitable will. The new laceration on his face turns him into that mythical beast. His veins pulse beneath his mutilated skin as if chiding him for the turncoat he'd been forced to become.

Axe's resistance is met with another punch to the gut by the Scourge that has him struggling for air.

"No!" Sasha shrieks again, pulling against her new chains on the wall. "Don't!"

Instruments of torture are distributed by the initiates from concealed niches in the walls, and designed for maximum pain with minimal damage. Thumbscrews, bone saws, branding irons, spiked collars…

Accused witches weren't just executed here. They were sacrificed to the Sovereigns' lovely demon lord.

This scene is a horrific testament to the centuries of Sovereigns sadism.

Sasha screams again, her voice shredded with helplessness.

"Thank you, boys. Why don't you prove yourselves and go retrieve the Wraithwood girl, since you brought us the wrong one," the High Sovereign explains with a drawn out sigh, "but we can have some fun while we wait."

Axe raises his head, and in a moment of stupefied realization, his eyes find me behind the pillar.

There's no surprise; he knew I'd come. He expected me to be crouched somewhere unseen. Yet, his eyes plead with mine, not for help, but for forgiveness.

It's then I finally see the unbreakable spirit that has kept him alive through countless horrors.

His lips move, forming a single word: "Run."