Page 86 of A Reign of Malice
I snarl, ripping an arm free for a moment before two more pile on. I kick, claw, twist. One gets a fist to the jaw, another a knee to the gut. But I don’t go for the kill. I hold back just enough to make the struggle real, to sell the ruse because Iwantthem to take me.
If I can’t bring Aeson to me, I can at least get inside and warn the others what they’re walking into. That’s better than this part of our plan being a complete failure.
Eventually, one gets a cuff on my wrist. The moment it locks, my strength wavers. Enchanted and not in a good way. I curse beneath my breath as they secure the other wrist then bind my ankles. They lift me off the ground and carry me like a slab of meat.
My wolf snarls beneath my skin, pacing furiously, but we both know the plan. We can’t fight. Not yet.
The air shifts as we cross the threshold into the castle walls. My stomach clenches, not from fear but from the sheerwrongnessthat floods the space. The magic here is tainted. The castle has always been cold, but now it feels like it’s decaying from the inside out.
They drag me past the courtyard, where I catch sight of the gathering.
Wolves. Dozens of them.
No—hundreds.
A sea of bodies in armor, some pacing, some shiftingrestlessly, others swinging weapons. Nearly two hundred. That’s what Garron said. And now I see them with my own eyes.
All of them ready for war.
The guards don’t slow. I’m shoved through the old servants’ passage then dragged into the great hall on the first floor. The room is lit with golden chandeliers, food spread across the long dining table like it’s just another feast.
Aeson sits at the head of the table.
He cuts into a thick slab of roasted meat with calculated precision, chewing slowly, like the flavors are the only thing he’s interested in savoring tonight.
I’m dropped into a chair, and I breathe a sigh of relief when the cuffs are removed, but it doesn’t last long. I’m then bound to my seat with thick rope laced with silver threads. The sting is immediate, but I don’t flinch.
Aeson doesn’t look up right away. He dabs his mouth with a cloth napkin and finally lifts his gaze to meet mine. Those dark eyes…they’re too calm. Too collected.
Like he already knows something I don’t. Or at least don’t wanthimto know yet.
“You look different,” he muses, cutting another piece of meat. “More feral. I like it.”
I don’t speak.
At the edge of the opulent dining hall, Dasha stands like a statue carved from regret. Her arms are tightly crossed over her chest, jaw clenched so hard I can see the tension from across the room. Her gaze remains fixed on the far wall—anywhere but me. But her silence is its own language.
She’s not with him. Not fully. But she’s not with me either.
Aeson lounges in his chair as if he’s a man at the head of a celebration rather than the edge of a war. The firelightdances off the wine goblet in his hand, casting crimson reflections across the stone table.
“Nothing to say now?” he drawls, voice laced with venomous amusement. “I thought you were here to warn me about Julian.”
The way he spits his brother’s name like it’s a curse he’s been choking on for decades sends a ripple of fury through me. My nails curl into my palms, but I force myself to remain still, to play the part.
“Excuse me for second-guessing my decision to do so,” I reply coolly, giving just enough edge to my tone. “Considering the warm welcome.”
Aeson’s gaze slides over the ropes binding me to the chair, and a crooked smile curls his mouth. “You’re right, but I didn’t take you for stupid, Sloane. Did you really think just because I was willing to fuck you that I’d let you walk in here and threaten everything I’ve built?”
My stomach twists. Not at the vulgarity, but at how easily he weaponizes the agreement I signed because I was too desperate to see what was right in front of my face.
But even worse is the fact that I did think I could fool him. I thought desperation had made him weak. I thought he wanted me too badly to see through the act.
Clearly, I was wrong.
Still, I lean into the lie one last time.
“The others are bringing a war to your front doors,” I say evenly. “They intend to take your crown and dismantle this whole kingdom. Julian tells everyone who will listen that he was wrongfully accused, but there’s a darkness in him. The others have passed it off as anger, but something about him isn’t right. Why did you have him trapped beneath the castle? Why not just kill him?”
