Page 104 of Sold to the Devil
“Congratulations, my dear followers. You deserve a place of honor at my side in our new government when the faeries and non-magicals are finally wiped out.” He smiles devilishly while focusing on me. “And you, sweet Aelys... What a wonderful leader you will be when you reign alongside my son !”
“Thank you, Master,” I reply, bowing.
Darkvis sneers and claps, then bends down and picks up O'Connor's severed head, a wide, sickening smile on his lips.
“No hard feelings, old enemy,” he hisses. “Only the most powerful among us could remain, remember.”
He sneers louder before placing the skull on his throne, pulling two daggers from his sleeves. He prepares to throw them at the still unconscious Law and Dawson, but Mattheo interrupts him.
“Master. May I request that Law be tortured by my wife? So that justice may be served, of course.”
Darkvis freezes, his eyes narrowing as he stares at his son, not appreciating being cut off in his tracks. He nods nonetheless, waving a hand in annoyance.
“Yes, yes. She deserves this little reward after having succeeded so brilliantly in killing my oldest enemy. Take him away and do this out of my sight.”
Mattheo bows, thanking his father, then nods to the boys. Immediately, Theodore, who remains the tallest and strongest of the group, picks up Law's unconscious form and throws him over his shoulder. We all bow before leaving the reception room, leaving Darkvis to tend to Dawson while my lioness roars impatiently at the promise of finally making Law pay for the loss of our child.
The boys walk briskly towards an iron door behind a painting of the manor, making me raise my eyebrows in surprise. Arthur, noticing my reaction, chuckles softly.
“Yes, little lady. This mansion hides many secrets.”
I roll my eyes, an amused pout tugging at my lips. “Let me guess, there are dungeons under the Manor?”
He nods as Mattheo pushes open the heavy iron door, revealing a spiral staircase made of stone. We follow in silence, Law still unconscious on Theodore's shoulder.
At the bottom of the stairs, a long corridor faces us, wooden doors with small windows made of iron bars extending all the way down on either side. I quickly count the doors out of curiosity.
Twelve.
My husband opens the first cell on our right and signals to Theodore to leave our prisoner there. He complies, letting Law fall back onto the stone floor with a dull thud. A groan of pain echoes through the small cell as Law regains consciousness, probably because Theodore literally threw him onto the stone.
“Hey, handsome!”
We all stare at Enzo, who has just greeted him cheerfully, stunned. He shrugs, a big smile on his lips, making us sigh.
That idiot…
Mattheo rolls his eyes before turning back to Law, who has now more or less regained his senses and is backing away as best he can with the ropes restraining his body. His eyes are wide with terror as he looks us over one by one, before stopping on me.
Hatred flashes across his eyes before fear takes over again, yet he tries to glare at me. He tries to hide his fear, but his trembling body betrays him. He's terrified and I'm glad for it.
“He's all yours, angel.”
Mattheo steps aside, looking at me tenderly, pride shining in his eyes. The boys follow suit, each positioning themselves at the sides of the cell to give me free rein. Only Theodore stands in the doorway, in case Law tries to escape. I don't waste a second, mutating into a lioness and pouncing on Law, who screams in terror when he realizes his torture will be to be eaten alive by a lioness thirsting for revenge.
That night, as we're all dressed in pajamas and scattered around our room at the Mansion, including the girls who left the Academy the moment O'Connor's headless body was found, we celebrate our victory while talking. I lean my back against Mattheo's chest, sipping my drink and looking at my friends, enjoying the moment, knowing it might be the last time we're this happy.
Tomorrow, we will put a definitive end to this war by decimating the fairies and non-magical beings alongside the Dark Mage. Only the gods know how many of us will emerge unscathed.
The night is dark, dimly lit by the crescent moon in the starry sky, as we teleport past the gate of Scotland's National Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry alongside the Dark Mage.
Mattheo's hand slides into mine and he intertwines our fingers, gently squeezing my hand. My eyes meet his as I turn my head towards him. He looks at me with pure love, but I can also see fear shining in his chocolate brown eyes. He's afraid of losing me, and so am I.
I have no idea what would happen to me if I were to lose him.
I sense a presence on the other side and my head turns to the left, my eyes landing on Tom, who has reached my side like a bodyguard. He must have gone to a healer after we tortured him because his missing eyeball is now concealed by an eyepatch, and the four marks left by my claws are now four scars, still pink.
He doesn't look at me, his eyes fixed on the monastery and his father who stands in front of us.
