Page 49 of Across an Endless Sea

Not her wings. Ancestors, not her wings.

That blade is steel. She’s sensitive enough that it might actually kill her if he rips her wings off with it.

Rose is shaking like a leaf, but she doesn’t make a sound. Her lips are pressed together so tightly that they’ve gone white. He keeps her like that, leaning down to whisper something in her ear that makes her flinch. When he leans back, I see her brace herself.

Blinking blood out of my eyes, I meet her terrified stare as my father grabs a hunk of her hair and yanks it over the blade.

It falls away in a cloud of strawberry-kissed blonde to land in the blood in front of me.

“Fighting over a fucking fairy,” he snarls, taking another chunk and hacking it free. “Call yourselves sons of Balor? They’re slaves! Pests! Invaders!”

Rose’s tears fall silently down her cheeks as he rips handful after handful of hair from her head, leaving an uneven mess over her scalp. She’s still trembling, but my body sags in relief. This punishment is mild compared to what it could’ve been. She’s fae. Losing her hair means nothing to her beyond a little bit of humiliation.

I just hope Elatha is satisfied with scaring her and it ends there.

When every long wavy strand is gone, heaped in a mess on the bloody floor, Elatha sheathes his blade and shoves her away.

Her hair was a waterfall of silk before, but now it’s a mess of uneven lengths that have turned into short haphazard spikes.

“I want my son’s lashes dealt with,” he snarls. “Start over from the beginning for his impertinence. Get that meddlesome fairy out of here and clear up this mess. The next time I seeanyonefighting over a slave, I’ll feed everyone involved to my dogs!”

He sits back down, startling the slaves into action. Prae grabs Rose and drags her from the room, and two seconds later, another line of fire radiates down my spine.

Another hundred lashes to go.

But Rose is out of here. Safe.

I let myself drift.

Sixteen

Rhoswyn

My head feels light, horribly so. Humiliating tears still burn at my eyes, and my ears feel strangely cold and exposed, but my primary emotion is relief. When Elatha drew his blade and stepped behind me, I was convinced I was about to lose my wings. I felt sure it would happen. He even stroked them, and the memory makes me sick.

Goddess, I’m still shaking.

And Caed… I didn’t miss how Elatha used his full name against him. Just how many orders has he been forced to follow like that?

Prae doesn’t make us go far. In fact, we’ve barely made it ten paces beyond the door before she slams me up against the wall.

“What the fuck were youthinking?” she demands.

My lingering fear quickly morphs into fury. I’ve had enough of Fomorians throwing me around and taking out their anger on me. Of feeling Caed’s pain, but being unable to reach out for him along our bond. Hell, they expected me to be able toeatwhile they flogged him not twenty paces away from me. That’s not mentioning the asshole who stole that fae’s wings and started pretending to wear them on the other side of the hall, or the dogs that started preying on dinner guests who lowered their guard for a split second.

The last week has been awful, but these past few hours have pushed me beyond my limit. So, instead of shrinking like I think she expects me to, I yell right back at her.

“Me?! This wasn’t my fault. Elatha is torturing his own son, and everyone is laughing and eating like Caed isn’t bleeding, and those twins were going to… to…” My voice chokes off.

I’ve never been groped like that before, and my body still stings from the force of their hands. My skin prickles with the sheer wrongness of being touched by someone who isn’t my Guard, and I want nothing more than to bathe in scalding water until the sense of violation is burned away.

If they’d gone further, I think I might have vomited.

“Caed brought those lashes on himself foryou, knowing full well what he was doing.” Prae glowers at me. “And thenyouwent and caught the king’s attention, and I had to step in. Do you have a clue what that challenge will be like for me, even if I win?” she scoffs. “No. You don’t even care.”

“I wanted to protect him,” I growl. “And yes, I care. But I didn’t see you rushing to help him!”

“He doesn’t need our protection!” Prae retorts. “He’s immortal. He’ll heal. Your fucking oath saw to that. If you really want to help, you’d be doing something useful, like feeding him your energy, so he heals faster. Not getting in the way and dragging the rest of us down with you.”

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