Page 134 of The Princesses of Ruin
The hellbeasts drop all around us, the black goop melting off them.
Fuck…was that it?
Adrik turns, meeting my gaze. His chest is bloodied, new scars yet to form. He smiles, taking a step toward me.
Blackness bubbles on the surface of the pool behind him, swelling so fast there’s not even time to blink. It explodes and a wave of mist envelops the front lines.
Then it hits me, and nothing else exists but pain.
Chapter forty-seven
Scarlett
Dinner was an exercise in humility. Mother says my magic-less blood has failed her for the last time. She couldn’t even barter me away to a Wolish merchant in exchange for discounted shipping rates.
The halls of the palace feel oppressive, their shadows swallowing me. Has it always been this dark in the royal wing?
This isn’t right…
I turn, taking in curtains, the chaise in the alcove, the carpets. Everything is blurred at the edges, my periphery hazy. Did I have too much wine at dinner? It was a small miracle I didn’t drink myself to death when she called me worthless.
Worthless.
I am not worthless.
A shadow emerges from the alcove, and I take a step back on instinct. Shadows shouldn’t move, but this one does.
It smiles, too.
The man is young of years but dripping in the kind of cruelty that comes with experience in sadism. He grins overwide as he twists a blade against his finger. I suck down a breath to scream, but my voice fails. I make no noise.
Fear immobilizes me. I can only watch as the man comes closer.
“A pretty thing. Such a waste,” he says with a tsk.
You’re dead, you fucking bastard. I ripped your throat out myself. Ate it, too.
My heart beats so hard I think it might split my chest open. He stops before me, his eyes perusing the length of my body. Revulsion boils in my stomach. I’ve seen that gaze before, too, and know exactly what kind of man he is.
“What if I take you home instead? Hmm? You’d look pretty sitting on my cock, kissing my second wife.”
Scream. Scream, you insipid, worthless girl!
His hand comes to my face, and the touch of his cold skin snaps the reins on my mind. My voice comes out in a whistling shriek. He covers my mouth and then we fold away—moved from the middle of the hall to the alcove. I don’t understand how…but it must be his magic.
A sharp prick against my neck and a roll of warm blood silences me.
Why aren’t you dead? Why am I here?
“Make another sound and I’ll slit you ear to ear. Then I’ll find your sister’s bed and see if she’s more willing. Understand?”
I nod, fearing not for my insignificant life, but for my kin’s. My mind whirls as he grips my shoulder and pushes down. The edges of my vision darken as I drop. He keeps the blade at my neck as his other hand works free the leather straps of his pants. He snaps one against my cheek, a sting blooming there that makes me whimper.
Shame burns in my eyes. I’m a princess of Fynren, pushed to my knees to be used like a common whore in the halls of my own home.
“Now, you’re going to open those plump lips and take me nicely. I shouldn’t need to remind you of the alternative.”
He drags the tip of the knife along my jaw. A tremor rocks my body. My eyes lock on the hilt of another blade on his hip.
