Page 5 of Twisted Empire

3

Elias

I satat one of the bars downstairs, right hand clenched around a tumbler of scotch so tightly that my knuckles turned white. It was a wonder the glass didn’t shatter.

Despite all the darkness surrounding the society and its third-level traditions, I still couldn’t fucking believe it in those first few moments when the council told me what they did with the hostesses at their festivals. They tricked all the women into thinking it was some sort of honor, an easy job that would give them privilege after privilege along with a chance to leave this place forever, just to make them behave. Really, it was a death sentence.

As the full weight of their words set in, it started to feel like the whole world was choking me, dark fingers tightening around my throat. Tatum was the hostess this time around. That meant she was marked for death in just two days.

Before I stepped into the chamber in the Catacombs this afternoon, I stupidly thought I’d have time to come up with a solid plan to rescue her from this place. Everything was different once I discovered time wasn’t on my side at all. I had to tell her as soon as possible, had to get her the hell out of here by any means necessary.

I went straight to her after the council let me out, but I was too late. My father made it there at the exact same time, and I couldn’t make a scene without arousing his suspicions. That was the last thing I needed right now, because if that happened, I wouldn’t even stand a chance at rescuing my girl.

And so I had to wait.

It sounded easy, but it wasn’t. My muscles ached for no reason as I sat here at the bar, and my hands shook in a way I couldn’t control. My skin felt cold and clammy, a vein was pulsing in my neck, and my face was probably as beaded as dawn grass. All I could do was try my best to look casual around all these other Crown and Dagger bastards, when really, I was already so wound up that I would probably smash their fucking faces in if they came too close.

I gulped down another mouthful of scotch, closing my eyes as it burned a trail down my throat. There was barely a shred of doubt in my mind about what my father was saying to Tatum right now.

I’d been told that the men of the third level usually waited until the very last minute to tell the festival hostess that she was going to be hunted, but I had a feeling my twisted prick of a father couldn’t resist telling Tatum early. He wanted to make her suffer, make her wait in a state of dread and fear for days on end.

He was nothing but pure fucking evil. Just like the rest of them.

Above me, on the high ceiling, an intricate carving swirled and twisted like a vortex in the ocean. I wanted it to suck me up and break me into nothing. I deserved it, because if anything happened to Tatum, it would be my fault. My father might’ve been the one to negotiate her sale with her parents, but he did it for me. He knew how I felt about her after Ben’s death, and so it was because of me that she was brought here in the first place.

All my fucking fault.

“There you are.” Speak of the devil. Here was my father right now, sliding onto a barstool next to me.

I steeled my jaw. “You’re done talking to Tatum already?” I asked.

Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps all he spoke to her about was the bullshit hostess duties, and she still wasn’t aware of the danger she was in.

“Yes. She’s back in her room now. I told her all about the hunt, so as you can imagine, she’s not too pleased,” he replied with a chuckle.

Well, there went that idea.

I grimaced and swallowed hard. “I see.”

He frowned. “Are you all right? Your face looks a bit red.”

I tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a snarl. “Just thinking things over,” I said, forcing an airy note into my voice. “It was pretty intense down in the Catacombs earlier. I wasn’t expecting that last bit of information about the hunt. Not at all.”

“You don’t approve?” Dad’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Of course I do. Like I said, I just didn’t expect it.”

He snorted. “I’m not blind, Elias. I can see something is bothering you. Spit it out.”

I took another sip of my drink, formulating my next words carefully. “Fine. You’re right. To be frank, I’m kinda pissed that I’ll be losing Tatum in the hunt.”

He pursed his lips. “I knew it.”

“Well, what did you expect? She’s my slave. I had no idea the others could take her away from me like this after all my hard work with her.”

He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We couldn’t exactly tell you before you reached the third level, could we?” he said. “Besides, there’s a good reason so many of us voted for her over every other woman here. The escape attempts, the way she stabbed me, not to mention what she did to Ben all those years ago… she’s incorrigible. Surely you can see that.” He paused for another beat. “I understand that you feel as if you’ve wasted these last few months training her and carrying out your little plan to make her fall for you, but there’ll always be other girls. I’ll find you another one. A better one.”

There was no one better. No one else in the whole wide world. Tatum wasn’t fucking replaceable. She was mine.

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