Page 15 of Shattered Jewel

I lower my chin, acknowledging the rebuke. “You are correct, my lord. But this lead is... delicate. Rushing in blindly could jeopardize everything.”

The Sovereign’s fingers drum against the armrest of his throne, a staccato beat that grinds against my ears. “And what assurances can you offer that this lead will bear fruit?”

I meet his gaze squarely. “None, my lord. Only my word that we will not rest until the Heart is in your hands.”

A long, tense moment stretches out, the Sovereign’s scrutiny boring into me like a physical weight. Then, abruptly, he nods. “Very well. You have one week. One week to bring me the Heart. Fail, and the consequences will be severe.”

I bow my head, relief and alarm clashing. “Thank you. We will not fail you.”

The Sovereign’s masked gaze shifts to Kaspian, Axe, and Wilder. “And what say you three? Are you as confident as your leader?”

They bow their heads in unison.

Kaspian murmurs, “We will not let you down, my lords.”

“See that you don’t,” the Sovereign growls before motioning with a bone-white hand. “Rise.”

A weight lifts off my shoulders as I rise, my brothers along with me.

And that is my mistake.

The righthand Sovereign croons from his stone perch, “Kaspian.”

Kaspian stiffens yet says with unaffected calm, “Yes, my lord?”

“You show much faith in Cavenaugh’s leadership. Dare I say as much, if not more, than your faith in us, if you’re willing to follow in his steps and allow this delay.”

Sensing the direction of the conversation, Axe steps forward, bracing his posture for the worst. I shoot him the most murderous look in my arsenal, freezing him in place.

Leave the Sovereigns to me.

That is what I promised them.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, thinking of the last person to touch me. The woman whom I settled between with such utter perfection, I no longer want anyone else. The way her lips split for me, her mouth, her pussy, her moans and whimpers as I soaked in her heat and felt oblivion for the first time.

I open my eyes.

And say, “As their leader, punish me for forcing them to heed my delay.”

The chamber erupts in a frenzy of whispers and speculation. The black-robed initiates in their half masks shift and murmur like a swarm of agitated insects. The middle Sovereign raises a hand, silencing them.

My heart thunders in my chest, but I keep my expression impassive. “Let my punishment serve as a reminder to all. The Court’s will is absolute.”

After a beat of silence, the middle Sovereign nods. “Very well.”

He motions to the black-robed initiates, who surge forward like a tide of shadows. Rough hands seize me, dragging me toward the center of the chamber. I don’t resist, even as Axe lets out a low growl and Wilder’s muscles bunch under his skin, ready to spring. Kaspian’s lips pull back like he wants to confess, the finishing stroke to all of us.

My mouth wrenches into a snarl when I catch his eye. Don’t.

Each of them obeys, though I can see the fury in their eyes, the helpless rage at watching me suffer for their sake.

I don’t resist as I’m dragged toward the circular floor, its surface stained with the blood of countless punishments. They force me down, the cold stone biting into my back through my shirt.

Rough rope binds my wrists and ankles, then are tied to four wooden pegs one initiate has happily shoved into designated holes, stretching me out like a sacrifice upon an altar. I stare up at the vaulted ceiling, picturing Elara in this position. Envisioning nothing but her pleasure with my pain.

The second Sovereign—not the silent one, thank fuck—looms over me, his mask a death’s head in the flickering torchlight. “You will learn obedience, Cavenaugh. One way or another.”

He raises his hand, a glint of metal catching the light. A blade, its edge honed to razor sharpness. My teeth clench, a fortress holding back a flood of sound, bracing for the burn of fresh cuts.

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