Page 218 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

My face heated, and pain twisted inside of me. How much had Vincent told her? Vincent’s eyes blazed as he stopped before her and went to one knee, lifting the medallion on one palm in offering. I turned my head away, unable to bear the sight of him handing it over so easily.

“Wonderful,” Nismera purred, snatching the medallion from his hand and holding it up to the light, watching the dark magic swirling inside. Nismera looked at Vincent on the floor, her eyes blazing.

“Did you really believe I would not know what happens in my kingdom? I have spies everywhere,” she hissed at me.

Nismera snapped the fingers of her free hand, and Vincent rose to stand beside the one-eyed man. My heart slammed against my ribs, and I fought to summon my magic as I heard soft footfalls approaching. Hilma walked in and strode to Nismera’s side, completely at ease. Nismera placed the sealed medallion in her hand, and Hilma bowed with a cold smile. She smacked a kiss on her war queen’s hand before stepping back, not even looking at me as she left the room.

Nismera took a step closer to me. “And you just became useless. I think it’s time to show you what happens when people touch my belongings.”

I saw Vincent’s throat bob, and my eyes cut to his. He’d told her . . . everything. “Bring her forward. It’s time to dispose of my witch.”

I didn’t whimper, didn’t cry, as the guards dragged me toward the block. They yanked my arms in front of me, keeping the net coiled around my body, making me jerk as they sent another wave of electricity through it. I made no move to escape, accepting my fate. Truth be told, I should have died with my coven.

Every legion member stood behind their generals, watching my public punishment. Nismera wanted to make a mockery of this, to have others bear witness to what happens when they are no longer necessary or convenient to her. Most of all, she wanted to hurt me in front of Vincent because of his transgressions. Only he was on her side.

The soldiers lay me across the stone block, pressing my chest to its cold surface.

“Idiots,” she hissed. “I want her hands, not her head!”

The soldiers dragged me back and forced me to kneel, placing my wrists on the stone slab. My hands! Oh gods, she wanted to take my magic. My eyes locked with hers, pure panic ripping through me.

“Yes,” she said with a smirk, savoring my fear. “I will take your hands, rid you of that precious magic, and watch day in and day out as you suffer. Just like this.”

She stepped forward and grabbed Vincent’s chin, grinding her mouth over his. I tried to turn away so I didn’t have to watch, but the soldiers forced me to remain still. Nismera’s tongue darted into his mouth, and he opened to her.

Magic, thick and violent, swirled around my fingertips, and the soldiers gasped. Nismera pulled back with a look of pure pride, happy to have gotten a reaction from me. She finally understood just how strong I was. I kept my gaze focused on Vincent, his image blurring through my tears. He looked worried, but I didn’t care. Nismera chuckled and waved the one-eyed man forward. Everyone went silent. The only sound was the scratch of steel being dragged across the dark stone floor. I stared at it, trying to slow my breathing as my executioner hobbled forward. Nismera turned to the room and raised her arms triumphantly, a deep emerald glow beaming from within the medallion.

“As you can see, the final stage in our grand scheme has come to fruition. Here lies the last key before The Rise. And once it is done, these realms, the few that still remain, will have no choice but to kneel to their rightful king. The new world is in our grasp, and so shall end the old.”

The cheers and howls of glee died as she turned back to me. Every eye was on me, and suddenly, I was the center of attention.

Nismera clasped her hands around the medallion. “But before that, I need a test of true loyalty because these coming months will be challenging, and the outcome will determine the future.”

The executioner stopped, placing the massive serrated ax beneath his scaly chin.

“You, my beloved,” she said to Vincent. “This girl is the last tether to your old life. I fear you may slip, and since she has fulfilled her purpose, we do not need any more distractions.” Nismera’s eyes bored into Vincent’s. “You can make up for your transgressions, and then I can forgive you.”

My body went rigid as she pulled my head up by my hair. My neck ached with the strain as I glared at Vincent, my hands held tight against the stone.

“I can forgive it all and not have you skewered on a pike outside the city with all those who failed me. Just disarm the witch. I want her hands as a trophy for all to see what happens when they touch what’s mine.”

Vincent’s brow furrowed. “But what of the medallion?” he asked. “What if her magic is volatile, and it cracks before the ritual?”

A hush washed over the room as Nismera smiled. Everyone knew she was at her most dangerous when she smiled. “Don’t worry about that, pet. One celestial event, and it will be of no worry any longer. She finished just in time. Seven more moons, and the merge happens. We have plenty of time.”

A cool calm smoothed Vincent’s face, and I swallowed. That was why she had pushed so hard. She needed another celestial event, just as with Samkiel’s death.

I stared at Vincent. Acceptance was a bitter taste in my mouth, but I was okay. This was a fate I thought I deserved after helping Kaden for so long. I deserved to be punished for what I’d done to Dianna, to the world. Nismera released my hair, stepping toward Vincent for a better view of my humiliation.

“Now take her hands,” Nismera whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I command you.”

A sick and twisted realization hit my gut, but I swallowed it. Vincent turned back toward me, and Nismera took his silence as compliance, waving the executioner over. He stopped a mere inch away from Vincent and handed him the ax. Vincent took it, and a small breath left my lips. I bowed my head, the thick brown waves of my hair spilling around me, blocking my view of the world. My body slumped with resignation, my arms stretched tight, and my palms lifted as if in supplication. I curled my fingers once more, feeling the heat of the emerald glow one last time before I lost my hands and my magic forever.

Vincent and I were pawns. Both of us sought punishment for our betrayal of those who had loved us, for what we helped orchestrate, and in the process, we allowed ourselves to be used to commit even worse crimes.

The room went deadly silent as Vincent’s armored boots drew near, and my pounding heart skipped a beat. I heard him grunt, and then steel sliced through the air with a nearly musical whistle. I closed my eyes tight, and I swore I heard him whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The sound of metal rending flesh and steel hitting stone rang through the silent room. Pain shattered my mind, and I screamed.

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