Page 14 of King of the Dawn

“He gets to die fast, because even if he didn’t hurt her himself, he participated. He was an accomplice in her pain.” I said, allowing my sadism to drip like acid from my tongue. “You will die over days, weeks, maybe even months. We’ll see how merciful she chooses to be. Because you’ll get no sympathy from me. I will relish your screams and drink your pain until you’ve paid her back for every second of horror she experienced.”

The man’s mouth pulled back in panic; his eyes were so wide I could see the whites all the way around his pupils. He let out a silent scream as his body shook, and I relished it. It made my muscles flex like adrenaline, and tasted bitter on my tongue.

“I didn’t do it,” he squeaked like a rat caught in a trap. “I didn’t mean to. He said… he said it was okay… I only did what…”

I punched him on the back of the head, my knuckles knocking at the base of his spine.

“She didn’t give you permission to speak,” I growled. “And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Your dead friend paid for his sins in blood. You will pay for your sins in pain.”

I stood next to the last man, and didn’t even touch him, before Eve inclined her chin, answering the question I was about to ask. He had touched her. By my count, that meant that only one of her late husband’s guards had not participated in her humiliation. Only one.

How would I be able to erase sixteen years of this?

With a slight cough, Eoghan began to speak, “I couldn’t find one of them. Tanner Brock.”

I never took my eyes off the men in front of me, but I turned my head slightly, to show him I was listening.

“If I had to guess, he’d be the ringleader.” Eoghan explained. “He was the smartest, but the cruelest. Of all six of my father’s guards, he probably carries most of the blame.”

I nodded, grinding my teeth so hard that I felt it in my temples.

“We raided his home, but he was gone,” Eoghan said. “I’ll have my man, Rohan, give you all the information I have on him.”

I extended my hand to my side, palm flat. He took it in a grasp and shook it. I didn’t keep my eyes off the three men who were less of a threat but were still my enemy.

“My sister and I will pay you a visit soon,” I said, with a tight smile. “So we can discuss our… alliance.”

We were already allied because my daughter was married to Eoghan’s cousin, but the peace had been unstable at best. Eoghan nodded.

“Best wishes on your new life, Aoibheann,” Eoghan said, giving her the shallowest bow. “I hope that I can make amends for my deficiencies as a stepson.”

He turned away, back the way he came, without a word.

As Eoghan’s footsteps retreated, Eve’s head lifted and she opened her mouth to speak as he reached the reception hall’s doors.

“Eoghan!” she called, and with rapid steps, she fluttered to him, her dress like a mist that followed a storm.

She grabbed his arm, leaned in, and in a hushed voice, whispered something in his ear. His head reared back when she was done, and he examined her face.

With a thunderous voice, he yelled, “Let’s go!”

And his men outside the door hopped up at his command, as if he had pressed the on button and now they were poised for action.

Eoghan was about to run out of the room before his steps stuttered. He looked at Eve and whispered a quick “Thank you” before running off with his men. In that moment, and in their exchange, was forgiveness, gratitude, and the offering of an olive branch.

Eoghan was one less threat against my bride, and my usefulness to her - the number of reasons for why I was allowed in her presence - diminished in count by one.

Chapter Seven

Aoibheann

My fingers worked quickly as I pulled the spirals of my hair into a ponytail and styled it into a fishtail braid over one shoulder. The woman staring back at me in the glass window of the greenroom wasn’t the same woman Alastair Sr. had abused. This woman was rejuvenated, despite the looming cloud that hung over my head.

Three weeks since the wedding, and my statue of a husband was still the persona he chose to show me.

He was torturing Alastair’s old guards in the basement. Sometimes I could hear their screams. It brought me ease, remembering how my screams, and then my silence, had once brought them pleasure.

Each day, my husband came back to me exhausted, his fists covered in blood, and I rewarded him with my touch, lathering his skin in warm oils until he fell asleep. Sometimes, his skin heated beneath my touch, but he always stopped us short when I tried to entice him into my arms, into my body…

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