Page 40 of King of Pride and Talons

What do you know of shame? she began, taking slow, methodical steps toward him.

She was stalling. The door behind them clattered, and mingled between were Vale's uncharacteristic pleas of terror.

The people of the kingdom have infiltrated the property! They are trying to get inside!

Cassia must have picked up the telepathic message because she began to grin in the way only feline creatures knew how. It was ghastly.

They are coming for you now. Nothing you can do, she sniggered.

But Thorne wasn’t afraid. Something else, something benevolent hanging in the air left him tranquil and assured.

Vale, do not fight them. Let them come.

Her grin dropped away, replaced by an irate growl. Cassia crouched in a pre-emptive battle stance, and Thorne told his men to stand by.

Thorne crouched, too, and waited patiently. She launched at him, and he stepped out of the way with the grace of a dancer. She skidded across the marble floors, nearly losing her footing in the pools of blood. He waited for her to spin around, unperturbed, and attentive.

Cassia’s frustration got the better of her. In the past, she had been a noble, diligent fighter, executing with surgical precision. But her insanity had rendered her sloppy. And Thorne was fine with putting her in her place.

She came at him again, and that time, he did not step away. He let her leap into the air, and then he caught her by the neck, her flimsy skin layered with the taste of sawdust. He slammed her down onto her back, splashing the blood of her comrades around them like some nauseating art display.

I will let you live if you leave here immediately. Wander outside the Wildwoods and find your own life again.

To his surprise, she nodded and responded to him in a doll-like timbre that gave him chills along his neckline.

I will, Thorne. I promise I will leave this place forever. You have my word.

Good.

Thorne lifted his paw from her and slowly backed away. Meanwhile, he could hear the doors beginning to splinter, and his men waited for his instructions with bated breath.

They are nearly in, My King, Vale beseeched him.

Wait. Trust me.

He motioned at his men, then at Cassia, who remained lying in the puddle of the coppery, bright blood.

Take her into custody. We will release her at the edge of Wildwoods.

Thorne turned his back on the former Queen of Wyeberry. He knew what was going to happen next, having not required the gift of foresight like his beloved witch possessed. He knew people, and he knew shifters.

But Cassia was desperate. Her sudden movements toward him were achingly slow, making small sloshes of sound through the sea of red. She tried to jump onto his back as her soldiers had, then perhaps sink a final, mortally wounding bite.

But her attempt failed.

The king slashed her across the face hard enough to break the skin. Pink blood sprayed and she fell back to the ground with a harrowing thump.

Within the same instant, the doors of the palace burst open. Thorne stepped aside and went to his men, who watched in reverence as the starving locals raced passed them—some in their human form holding machetes, pitchforks, and butcher knives, others having shifted with gnarly angry grins—and crowded around the anguished body of their former queen.

Thorne led his men out of the throne room as the mob began to mangle their ruler. It wasn't something they needed to see. It was up to her people, the people who she had radically let down, to act as judge, jury, and executioner of her demise.

Vale and the rest of his men stormed the castle. The unwell shifters of Wyeberry continued to ignore the King of Savanna and his healthy, rugged soldiers.

We have to find Breya now. Search the castle from top to bottom. It can’t be too late.

They did as he ordered, and Thorne himself abandoned the hellish caterwauls of the woman who was nearly his bride.

TWENTY-TWO

---