Page 135 of Shattered Jewel

His helpless gaze locks onto mine for a moment.

I love you, I mouth. I’m here.

“Hey, sweetwitch,” Wilder rasps, grinning through blood-stained teeth, “Wanna bet I can make ‘em scream louder?”

He tries so hard to remain strong that I give him an answering, shaky smile. But hearing his stifled gasps for air and the scorching sizzle of his flesh is almost worse than I can bear.

I beg the Sovereigns to stop. To leave him alone.

They do not.

The Silent Sovereign takes Wilder’s blood, painting me under my breasts. Tears soak the back of my head now, coursing freely down my cheeks.

If any of these legends were real, if Sarah Anderton were truly a witch, she would come to our aid. My blood could put a halt to this all with its genetically inherited magic. But the Sovereigns are wrong. Clover was wrong. There is no magic in this world, just brutality. No spirit from the afterlife is coming to save us. No power will flow through my veins, break my bindings, and singe these motherfuckers into Hell for all eternity.

We’re stuck in reality. I’m to die in this nightmare. The villains will win.

The Scourge turns from Wilder and centers on Cav.

“Don’t you fucking take one more step,” Cav says. His voice is icy as a winter’s night, his eyes frostbitten with fury. “Or I’ll do more than personally dine on your hearts for dinner tonight. I’ll rip your tongues out of your heads and stuff them back into your skulls so you can choke on your screams.”

“Empty threats, dear boy,” the High Sovereign says by my side. “You’re in no position to negotiate. Do shut him up and fry him so we can move on.”

Please, no. I can’t watch another one. This can’t be our last moments together…

The metallic taste of fear floods my mouth, and I swallow against the bile rising in my throat.

But I will. For Cav, I will keep my eyes open and endure this with him.

My heart races, threatening to burst from my chest, as I force myself to look at him one last time.

After a deep, trembling inhale, I level my gaze on his chest, his marred skin puckered and angry from the Sovereigns’ previous torture.

The sight of his wounds—raw, weeping, and crusted with dried blood—makes me want to scream and vomit simultaneously. I remember how that chest once felt beneath my fingers, strong and warm, rising and falling with peaceful breaths as we lay together.

“Butterfly... don’t cry for me.” His voice is a bare thread, a fine tremor coursing through his over-taxed body. “Their every move is a tell. Watch. Learn. Remember. Survive.”

The use of my pet name shatters something inside me, and fresh tears burn behind my eyelids. A whimper escapes despite my best efforts to stay silent.

The Scourge halts in front of Cav, ruby brandished like a weapon and glowing with an unholy light. Heat radiates from it, its invisible steam licking at my legs even from where I lay.

The Scourge lowers it towards Cav’s chest. I brace myself for Cav’s inevitable, visceral bellows?—

A loud crash sounds out from the adjacent Grand Library.

The three Sovereigns turn their heads simultaneously at the sudden disruption.

“Who the hell…?” Lowering the ruby, the Scourge stalks toward the archway.

“Stay where you are,” the High Sovereign barks at the Scourge. “Initiates, investigate what that noise was.”

“A possum?” one initiate suggests no one in particular.

“We locked everyone in the drawing room,” the other one replies, a little nervously. “There’s no way anyone should’ve escaped.”

“A possum,” the High Sovereign repeats, his voice dripping with derision. “You two had better find out before it becomes a real problem for you.”

His attention never leaves the archway as the two younger members of their unholy congregation scurry off.

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