Page 91 of The Curse of Ophelia

“And you are rumored to be a cowardly ruler who has others torture innocent men to achieve your deranged goals.” I jerked my chin at Malakai.

She circled back to face me. I caught the flash of hatred in her eyes when they flicked to Malakai, and I realized that his torture had been for no reason beyond her own revenge. The pain she felt over Lucidius having a child with another woman.

“I prefer ambitious, visionary, loyal to my cause,” Kakias said, resuming her control.

“Loyalty does not justify the thousands of innocent lives you took in your sham of a war,” I spat. How twisted her views were, how contrived her motivations. “Your ambition is tainted with death, Kakias.”

“It is called sacrifice, dear,” she sighed. “You’d be smart to become acquainted with the skill, to learn to conquer the ache it leaves behind.”

I found it hard to believe that she knew anything of sacrifice. She operated on greed, ensuring others felt that jarring pain, the black hole it rooted in their soul. Kakias did not sacrifice—others did as a result of her plans.

“Why is that?” I growled. Fury and revenge became molten within me, and I’d unleash them if she thought to make a sacrifice of someone I cared about. My newly adapted strength begged to lock my hands around her slender neck.

“Because you will be the greatest sacrifice of them all.”

My breath caught in my throat. For a moment, I forgot to fight the power driving my spine into a bow. I stumbled but recovered before she could win that battle. That wicked queen would not get my reverence, she’d not get my life—I’d ensure it.

Kakias stepped closer, until we were toe to toe. “It’s a shame. We could have made a great team.” She shook her head, actual pity in her voice.

Malakai practically growled, but Kakias paid him no heed. The hatred was clear in the tight set of his mouth and shoulders. He looked quickly to my wrist—where one finger tangled with the knots—and blinked in understanding.

“And explain to me, Kakias, why would we ever be a team?” I forced myself to resume an essence of that false sweetness.

She dropped her gaze for a moment, and I stilled my fingers, my heart rate speeding.

She was not looking at my hands, though. In her own she held something thin and silver, a blade as delicate as an icicle. She twirled it between her fingers. Black gems lined the handle, sending a myriad of colors around us where the firelight touched them. The reflections were searing poison against my skin. Lifting the dagger to balance it carefully between her hands, she regarded it like a treasure on display for its victim.

“Well, surely after that one is disposed of”—her eyes landed on Malakai briefly before turning back to me—“you will need a new lover. I have someone in mind.”

My blood chilled, fingers gripping the rope. “Your son?”

That malicious smile returned. She grasped my chin between cold fingers and jerked it upward. With her other hand she brushed the hair from my forehead, prying it from the patch of dried blood. The hilt of her dagger pressed into my cheek. “He likes pretty things. I think he’d be pleased to have you as his own.”

There was a shuffle behind us, a guard stumbling, and Kakias averted her attention for a moment. I looped my finger into the rope and tugged.

Then, she tightened her grip on my jaw and shoved my chin up farther. “But, alas, you would be too much trouble. I can see it in your eyes—the way they swirl with that unbridled power.” She considered. “I think it’s something we share, Ophelia.”

“We share nothing,” I spat, wrenching my chin from her grasp.

Her sharp-toothed smile was hungry. “The innocence of the naive is truly remarkable.” Thoughtful eyes raked over my body, but she tutted, “It does not matter. My son wields enough power without you, so it will be cleaner if I simply take what I need now. Besides.” She gripped my left forearm. “This would have to go.”

The cool tip of her dagger traced the Bind where my leathers were torn at the elbow. Each second of the slow drag fueled my anger.

When she reached the tip of the star, she dug the dagger in gently, a bead of crimson blood forming around it, sliding downward over my scars. That dark power around my bones loosened as she watched it, hunger burning at the sight, distracting her.

Her eyes met mine, a cruel joy festering there, and I knew what she meant to do. It would not be enough for her to kill me; she had to break me first. Little did she know I had already been broken so severely by the man standing beside me that her attempts would be futile.

She tilted the dagger as if she would drag it down my arm. The ropes fell from my wrists. Her eyes widened, and I smiled sweetly.

“Oops,” I whispered, before raising a fist and bringing it firmly against her jaw. The echoing crunch was satisfying, but I could hardly appreciate it before the room around us erupted.

The guards pulled axes. I ducked one and swiped two daggers from the owner’s waist. I turned to Malakai, slicing through the binds at his wrists without looking and shoving a weapon into his hands.

“Show no mercy,” he muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

“It’s not in my nature to,” I purred as my dagger sank into the side of a guard. Together, Malakai and I faced the host of Engrossian guards.

I couldn’t help but grin as my blade repeatedly met flesh. I was not killing them, but I was inching toward the fireplace. Toward the weapons beside it. If I could get my hands on Starfire or the spear—

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