Page 74 of Her Blood Revenge

The Prince’s eyes narrow further as he walks towards us. Each of his footsteps echoes around the vast hall, and it takes all I have to maintain my composure. Shaw’s hand gives mine an encouraging little squeeze. The prince stops before Shaw and me.

‘I would like a word with the king,’ Shaw says. ‘Prior to the wedding.’

‘When he has finished seeing to my ailing mother, he will be right with you.’ His smile is as chilling as the emptiness of his eyes. There’s no soul inside him. Just a spoilt brat used to getting his own way, uncaring of who bleeds to get it.

Just like Cole.

My snake tightens around my wrist. She’s uneasy. I don’t blame her. We’re surrounded by humans, all of which would be very happy to see me dead.

And a creepy little prince whose gaze has me uncomfortable.

‘I would like to make this quick,’ Shaw says bluntly.

‘Of course,’ he agrees. But does nothing to hurry things along. ‘My father will not be too much longer.’

His hands rest behind his back as he dances on his toes.

‘You make a pretty bride,’ he says. ‘You know. For a witch.’

Shaw squeezes my hand again before I answer back.

Silence. Keep my mouth shut.

As we wait, I look around the court. How different it is this time. So quiet and formal. The closer I look, the more I realise that they all seem pale and wide-eyed. And all are very purposefully avoiding eye contact with us.

I glance at Shaw. He notices the same thing as he surveys the crowd. His eyes narrow as he tries to figure out what is going on.

I turn back to look at the prince. And let out a gasp. It takes all I have not to scream.

Behind the prince, The king clutches his throat and chokes on the blood gushing down his front. Rage and betrayal exude from him as he watches his son. He staggers towards him, hand outstretched for his child. Each time he attempts to speak, blood spurts from the hideously deep gash across his throat.

Behind the king, the queen looks into nothing with tears streaming down her gaunt cheeks. Her thin, naked body is crisped and raw. She still smoulders, and her flesh hissesand spits from the fire that ended her life. Her dress is melted to her in patches, but I see she is also smothered in stab wounds. I see her ribs through several of the cuts. Her anguished groans are so loud. How can no one else hear it?

But no one else can. Nor can they see them.

The king and queen are dead, and judging by what I’m feeling from their spirits, their son is the one who slaughtered them.

I need to tell Shaw. I have to tell him this is all a trap.

I look up at him. He is still looking around, his eyes slowly taking in every detail.

How many soldiers. How many swords. All the exits.

I knew we should never have come, and if we get out of this, I am going to carve the words ‘I told you so, you stupid fucking arse hole!’ across his chest.

He looks down at me, dragging his gaze from our enemies with a formidable look.

I flinch at the sound of the queen who has appeared at my side. Her whimpering and whines land on my neck, sending that horrible chill all the way down my spine.

Don’t look at her. No matter what, don’t look at her.

She’s already so close, and I barely made eye contact with her for a second.

Three more guards walk in.

‘Your highness. The king has requested that you continue without him. Your mother is unwell, and he doesn’t want to leave her side.’

‘Very well.’ The prince claps his hands. ‘Then let’s get this started. Ready, General?’

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