Page 243 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Garrik thought for a moment. He wished for his magic returned if only to draw out Ladomyr’s pain. To steal into his pathetic mind and command his suffering to be illusioned as a thousand years of pain. Not to use his power for the torture. No. Garrik wanted tofeelLadomyr’s bones crushing. To feel the very last heartbeat in his hand as he ripped it out.

With bloodthirst in his eyes, Garrik trailed his dagger down the straight of Ladomyr’s torso, his screams much the same as those Garrik’s dungeons had heard. No stranger to the sound;this pain, this torture, did not sicken him. It only made him thirst for more as the fabric of Ladomyr’s tunic was shredded.

Angling the dagger low, below that plump gut, at the parts a male so dearly treasured, Garrik pressed the tip into the sensitive flesh Ladomyr used as a weapon and growled, “Beg.”

Silence. The king only foolishly gritted his teeth.

Garrik smiled.

With no warning, he impaled Ladomyr’s cock, sinking deep into the stone wall. “Beg.”

Ladomyr could not have heard him over his shrieking. So, Garrik stalked to the table and found a plate of golden skewers. One by one, he pushed seared meat from the rods. Watching Ladomyr squirm and flinch with each drop on the plate. Before long, Garrik had a twitching finger in hand, poising the rod directly beneath the king’s fingernail.

“Beg.”

Sweat poured from Ladomyr’s head and neck. “Burn in hell!”

Garrik leaned close to his face and whispered, “You first. Then I will meet you there as promised,” and shoved the rod underneath his nail.

Ladomyr’s voice had given out.

Which was a damn shame because Garrik had meant to hear his pleas one last time.

On that balcony, motionless by the stake through his back, Garrik tilted the king’s head to his mate, who was cradled in hisbrother’s arms, and for the last time, said her name to chase him into the afterlife, “Alora. Remember her name.”

With one final thrust, Garrik’s fist sunk into the heart of Kadamar and ripped it from his chest.

Ezander gasped on the floor, awakening, and curled forward against the widow and her mate.

Garrik stabbed the heart to the threshold and did not turn back to the dismembered piece of Elysian shit bound, broken, and breathless, residing one last time over his kingdom for the morning to see.

His mate waited, sleeping in his brother’s arms.

And as he walked to her, he remembered opening those doors. Remembered the smell of blood and burned flesh, both hers and Jade’s. His senses filled with the smell of Ladomyr’s arousal and of the few males sitting around watching. The memory of the king crawling onto the sheets and Alora being bound by wooden chains made him tighten his fists.

He had to question if there was any goodness remaining in his soul. That rage ignited anew inside him, leaving no space for goodness or mercy or a tender heart.

Garrik decided one last thing must be done.

Thalon gave him a knowing nod of acceptance. Forgiveness.

Taking a sword, Garrik gifted Ladomyr’s head to the balcony stones. A flaming torch was in his hand before he registered the wooden touch. Garrik carelessly flickered his wrist, lighting Ladomyr’s head aflame because he did not deserve to have his face looked upon again.

He knew the moment Alora woke, she would see the blood on him, smell it. But Garrik’s dying heart could not be separated from her a moment longer.

Thalon needed not one word and gently laid Alora in his arms. The gold of his eyes appeared darker, looking into silver in silent question.

Garrik nodded, knowing his brother’s concern. They would have time to dwell on feelings later. He motioned to Aiden, gesturing Thalon’s attention to Ezander, and moved for the door?—

“Wait,” the strained voice of Jade growled, mustering the strength to clench Aiden’s neck as he attempted to walk through the threshold. Her green eyes searched his, a longing he recognized gleamed within.

“Aye, love.” Aiden pressed a tender kiss in her hair and carried her across the room, out on that balcony.

With Aiden as her anchor, a reptilian grin flared across her face. A ravenous beast ready to slaughter.In a brutal thrust, blood spurted from Ladomyr’s severed throat. Jade ripped her fist out, and along with it, a blood-covered piece of spine.

Just like Jade’s necklace. The one with her master’s spine.

Alora’s eyes fluttered open.

---