Page 31 of The Blood Crown

A prickle of warning broke out across her skin as she was led toward the side of the throne room. Thankful, at least, that she had not been thrown into the empty space at the center. It seemed that had been reserved for some other unlucky soul.

“No—the true threat is not from an outsider.” The King’s deep voice boomed through the cavern, his eyes glittering with malice. “It is from within my very court.”

Someone was pushed forward through the crowd. Gasps and hisses erupted as a male was shoved to his knees before the king, his hands bound with the same silver cuffs that stifled her own magick.

The male appeared to be fifty, though she knew that meant he must have seen centuries, maybe millennia. He was handsome, with the broad shoulders of a warrior. An interwoven pattern was inked in red upon his neck, some symbol that looked as if it had no end and no beginning.

She remembered his face from when they had been brought before the king, standing beside the throne, but it was bruised and bloodied so much that he was nearly unrecognizable now.Whatever punishments he’d endured must have been truly brutal if they still showed on his immortal skin.

“Roheer.” The King’s mouth curved up in a saccharine smile, the scarred flesh of his throat twisting grotesquely. “My old friend. My trusted advisor.” A hush fell over the room as the king stepped from his throne to tower over the male. “Do you deny your involvement in a plot to overthrow me?” he asked, venom lacing his words.

To his credit, the male did not drop his gaze.

The cavern was silent, hundreds of red eyes focused on the male kneeling before the king. Though he was on his knees, nothing about his demeanor spoke of cowardice. From the straight line of his shoulders to the proud jut of his chin.

Roheer lifted his head higher, meeting the king’s eyes. “I do not.”

The court broke out into a hushed frenzy of whispers. A pillar of a female threw herself from the crowd, howling his name. She scrambled to where he knelt on the cold floor, wrapping her slender white arms around him as she wept, and as her curtain of platinum hair fell over her shoulder, Aurelia saw a matching tattoo in red along her neck.

Roheer’s spine remained straight as his bound hands would allow, but for a moment emotion softened his rugged features. He kissed the female once—a final parting as the guards drug her back into the swell of the crowded room.

“And the other traitors,” rage leaked through the king’s voice, “who are they?”

From the bruises and dried blood on Roheer’s face, they had already tried to pry the information from him and failed.

Murmurs rose up throughout the room, more panicked this time as the male’s chin lifted in defiance. “I, alone, acted in this,” he answered. “I could not continue to watch our great kingdom crumble.” He spat blood onto the dark floor, and the stoneseemed to drink it up greedily. “And now you allowhimback into your court.” He threw a vicious look at Ven. “Or do you not recall how many of our kind he murdered?”

Roheer turned to face the court. “Do you not remember how he earned his title? The Black Veil of the Battlefield.” Rage burned in the male’s eyes as he looked at Ven. “Using the magick of his tainted blood to smother hundreds of our sons and daughters, mothers and fathers,” his gaze swept the crowd once more, “your claimed.”

Hisses and snarls of quiet menace resounded through the cavern, fangs bared in silent threat—though she couldn’t be sure if it was at the king’s advisor or Ven.

“Our noble bloodlines are deteriorating because our king chooses to hide within these walls. Do you wish to remain here for eternity? Waiting for our magick to dwindle into nothing beneath the shadow of this mountain." His voice rose, the resolve of a male with nothing left to lose. "Because I do not.”

Low murmurs enveloped the room. Hushed and angry.

“You speak of sovereignty,” the king interrupted, “And yet my sighs and whispers tell me that you wish to make amends with our enemies.”

“I am willing to do what it takes to keep our magick from extinction,” Roheer answered.

The king sneered. “We are the Blood Folk. And we do not make bargains with lessers.” He stalked up the wide steps of his throne, easing back into the unforgiving stone with an imperious smile. “Venohan—find out who his accomplices were.”

The quiet command silenced the murmurs circulating the room.

Ven’s eyes slid to where his father sat. Contempt gleamed in their depths as he made no move to step forward.

Without warning, a searing blast of heat scorched Aurelia’s back. Her knees gave out as pain blistered along her spine, the stench of burning skin filling her nostrils.

A guttural growl ripped through the chamber as Ven lunged toward her from across the room. His fingers were outstretched as he leapt to his feet, but no magick answered him. Not a whisper of shadow or a lick of flame.

The guards held her arms tightly enough to bruise, keeping her from falling onto the hard floor as she choked back a whimper of agony.

The king lifted a pale hand. “I will not ask you again.”

Venom dripped from Ven's expression, and the guard at her left faltered for a moment, his grip loosening a fraction at the rage flaring in his crimson eyes.

Flame enveloped the hand of the guard to her right, his eyes fixed on the king as he waited for the command. The searing heat licked close enough to her skin that she broke out into a sweat, her teeth clenched against the impending pain. Her lightning answered in kind, crackling under her skin as it seethed, smothered by the bands around her wrists.

“Don’t!” Ven dropped his hands to his sides, fists clenched.

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