Page 27 of Royal Rebel

“Do it,” Iris said again. “Prove that you will do anything I say. Your desire must override everything else. Fear, pain—even the fact that you’ve been drugged. You need to push past all of this and do what I say.”

A shiver wracked Mia. Sweat beaded her brow. Her arm trembled. Then, slowly, her hand lifted.

“Good,” Iris encouraged softly. “Just a little higher.”

Inside the box, she heard the scorpion skittering. It shuffled and clicked in the darkness of its wooden prison.

Instinct shrieked for Mia to stop moving, but she couldn’t. Her fingers brushed the open edge of the box, and then her hand slipped into the narrow opening.

There was a light graze over her fingers. Then the pincers clamped down with a horrible pinch, breaking skin, and the scorpion struck. The stinger stabbed into the back of her hand and agony burst.

Her body jerked.

Iris patted her shoulder. “Thank you, Mia. Now, leave your hand in there until your guard comes to fetch you.”

The pincers had latched on and wouldn’t let go. The scorpion struck again. And again.

Mia gasped as pain ripped through her hand. She whimpered, and her fingers twitched, but she didn’t remove her hand from the box. She’d been told not to. She would obey. She didn’t remember why she had to—she just knew she did.

Besides, she was too tired to lift it.

The queen walked away, her white skirt rippling against the pebbled path.

Mia didn’t really register anything other than pain until Fletcher wandered into view. His confusion gave way to horror when he saw her sagging in the chair, her throbbing hand still in the box.

“Fates.” Fletcher dove for her.

He jerked her swollen hand out of the box and yanked the scorpion off her. Tossing it back into the box, he scooped Mia into his arms and strode away from the table.

Tears tracked down Mia’s face as she laid her cheek against Fletcher’s shoulder. “I did it,” she whispered, her words slurring, her heart pounding erratically. “I kept my hand in the box.”

Fletcher swore again, the sound strangled. She didn’t know why, but he seemed afraid. And angry. Horribly, furiously angry. “Hold on,” he gritted out. “Just hold on.”

Mia floated out of the poison garden in Fletcher’s arms.

Then she just floated.

Chapter 6

Grayson

Graysonstoodinthemain building of Northland Barracks, his feet shoulder-width apart, his arms crossed over his chest. His fingers dug painfully into his arms, but nothing was as painful as the throbbing burn on his face. Sweat beaded his hairline and upper lip. His skin felt flushed. He hadn’t eaten in far too long; perhaps that’s why he felt slightly faint. Or maybe it was just being in this place, remembering the days he’d spent here as a child. The military camp had always been a place of horrors, but now . . .

Those boys.

They weren’t soldiers. They were terrified children. But Henri didn’t care. Of course he didn’t. He’d given the orders that had brought them here. Those boys weren’t here voluntarily. They’d been taken. Ripped from the arms of their mothers, probably. Perhaps their fathers had been coaxed to enlist with promises they could serve with their children, though Henri would never actually have allowed such a thing. No, the fathers would have been separated from their sons almost immediately. They would have been told that, if they trained well, they would see their sons again before the battle.

This radical expansion of the army could mean only one thing. Henri was closer to declaring war than Grayson had thought.

Desfan, Imara, Serene—none of them knew what was coming. None of them knew how vast Henri’s army had become. This valley was filled with soldiers.

“This is only a fraction of our troops, of course,” Henri said. The king stood at the head of the long table, where maps were spread. The Kaelin princes stood around the table, the only other occupants in the room. Grayson forced himself to listen. To watch. He tried to memorize every mark on the map, even the ones he didn’t understand. Liam had taught him tricks and had honed his skills, and he used all of them now. Especially his least favorite—patience.

There was nothing he could do for those starving boys outside. Nothing he could do to stop his father from gleefully telling them his plans.

But he could listen.

Henri waved to the map sprawled in front of Tyrell. It showed Dolbar Pass. “I have troops already stationed here. They will invade Devendra from the north. I will lead them, with Peter at my side.”

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