Page 239 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Countless voices snickered, one snarled, as metal slid across the table. Ladomyr plucked a plate and began filling it, popping berries between his lips and perusing the expanse of Kadamarian delicacies before he perched against the table.

With one polished boot crossed over the other, he stared down at her, stating dryly, “I prefer my toys on their knees.” Vile satisfaction defiled his features.

Alora reeled back as much as she could and spit on his boots.

Ladomyr’s lip curled.

“I’m not your toy,” she snarled, writhing under the general’s boot. But it wasn’t enough.

He darkly scoffed. “Your precious mate said that, too. After I won him as my prize, I watched him choke until he begged formuchmore. And now I’m going to do the same to his bitch.” And said to his general, “Get her up. I wish to see her sink to her knees.”

Kyrell wasn’t gentle as he ripped her up by her hair.

Those voices she heard earlier were High Fae royal males, who had collected themselves around the long table and lounges. Alora glimpsed few females. Jeweled, motionless faces drawn as if they were trained that way. She didn’t doubt they were his wives when the female she’d spoken to at the masquerade looked upon her with guilt.

Ladomyr sat on a carved wooden throne and widened his legs. “Kneel.” His hands fell to his belt, eyes glazed with hunger, power.

“I’d rather burn on my feet than serve on my knees.” Alora didn’t miss Ladomyr’s wife lowering her head, shaking it.

Primal male authority tightened the king’s shoulders. His chin lifted as he spat, “Either you or the red-haired.”

Horror rippled through her as guards pulled Jade between the chaises and lounges. Gagged and in an exquisite gown like her own, which displayed Jade’s bonded mark perfectly.

“You decide. Get on your knees or I will throw her on my bed and allow my court to enjoy.” That stirred the attention of the males. Many sat forward in their seats with ravenous and depraved attention darkening their eyes.

Jade thrashed, and Alora knew it wasn’t for herself. She screamed as guardsmen pulled her back. Backhanding her with enough force to slam her into the table. They didn’t stop. As males moved out of the way, Ladomyr allowed them to continue with fists slamming into her gut, her face?—

“Stop—stop,” Alora shrieked, rawing her throat and pulling against Kyrell’s iron hold. “I’ll do it.” Burning tears flooded her cheeks. “I’ll do it. Juststop.”

Ladomyr lifted his palm.

The beating ceased.

“Splendid choice,” the king drawled, gesturing to his opened belt. “Get on your knees,” he spat. Then smirked as he ran a hand up his inner thigh. “Eyes on me.”

“You’ll burn for this.” Jade’s fury trembled the room in a voice Alora had not yet heard. Like a reawakened ancient wrath had been unleashed and promised flaming damnation.

Amusement danced in those devilish hazel eyes. “Oh? Will I?”

“I’m going to take a torch and shove itso farup your ass?—”

“What a fantastic suggestion.” Those eyes narrowed as a serpentine smile contorted his face. Ladomyr snapped his fingers at his wife, whose eyes filled with terror, ordering, “Bring me a torch.”

Before Alora could do anything, Kyrell shoved her between the king’s legs.

Ladomyr grabbed the torch from his wife and, with sadistic pleasure, lowered it to Alora’s mate mark.

The pain. The searing, torturous pain.

Alora writhed to flee, but Kyrell held her shoulders. His boots crushed her fingers on the floor so she couldn’t tear the torch away. Flesh and blood boiled, filling the air with a stench threatening to hollow out her stomach as much as the pain did.

“Stop! Stop this, you motherfucker!” The back of Jade’s head smashed into a soldier. His nose cracked and spilled blood before they slammed her back on the table.

Alora didn’t know how long she screamed for. How long her skin sizzled.

Every second agony. But that agony wasnothingin comparison to losing her mate mark—Garrik’s mark.

Ladomyr continued to hold the torch and hissed to Kyrell, “Put her on my bed. Have my guards take the red-haired.” And said to his court around the bedchamber, “Follow if you wish for a taste. Kyrell, you can stay. The white-haired can be yours after I’ve finished.”

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