Page 39 of A Tale of Treachery

“I didn’t want to, but I had to. Does something feel off to you?” I asked, observing the crowd and the women tied to the stakes. My eyes lifted to Aiden, who was once again staring at me, grinding his molars as he evaluated the man at my back. His glare turned glacial when Ryken met his eyes.

I stepped out of Ryken’s reach with a shake of my head, not knowing what had gotten into me. The last thing I wanted was to upset Aiden before we even had a chance to talk.

Aiden’s jaw clenched, and he looked downright furious. Unable to handle the look on his face, I turned my back to the prince and directed my attention to the other male.

Ryken locked eyes with Aiden over my shoulder, his lips tilted upwards in a smug expression. He chuckled under his breath as he abandoned his stare down with the prince and shifted his gaze to scan the surrounding sky. A wariness washed over him as his dark eyes studied the sky, his shoulders tensing at whatever he saw. “Now that you mention it, I do,” he claimed, his body rigid. “We should leave. Something is wrong here.”

My forehead wrinkled as I traced the path of his gaze, unable to see whatever he’d observed. I could only feel it hovering in the air. A dark warning. “No. We need to stay. We need to see what happens.”

Leaving wouldn’t keep us safe. Something deep down glued me to the spot, forcing me to stay and watch whatever was about to unfold.

I jumped when the crowd roared, and a chorus of taunts and hisses erupted as the executioner stepped up to the pit with a torch in his hand. Standing frozen in place, I braced myself for the horrendous sight. The executioner eyed the women, and in a dead voice stated, “You are guilty of crimes against the Crown. You are guilty of possessing magic.”

I huffed. Naturally, the executioner didn’t elaborate on the list of crimes because most of the time, there was no proof of lawlessness when it came to magical executions. The Crown didn’t need or want proof. They just wanted to watch those with magic burn.

“Do you have any last words?” the executioner continued.

After a long silence, Aisling spoke, her eyes locked on me, a twisted smirk stretched across her face. “What does it take to open a rift to another world?” she asked in a singsong voice.

Everyone must have thought it was a rhetorical question, words of madness spoken out of turn, because they moved on as if she’d said nothing. The executioner gave a brief shrug before continuing with his task. The spectators went back to jeering.

I drummed my fingers against my leg, knowing the words were meant for me, but still not comprehending the meaning.

The executioner brought his torch to the pyre, moving in slow motion. And when the first flame ignited, the meaning slammed into me. Stealing the breath from my lungs.

A gasp tore from my throat.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have missed something so important?

Three virgins. That was the answer to her question.

It took a sacrifice of three virgins to open a rift to another world.

Their capture and execution had been the start of a ritual, and the king, so fueled by hatred and ignorance, had played right into their hands. Just as they wanted.

“No!” burst from my lips as I moved from my position in the crowd, desperate to stop the execution. Strong arms wrapped around my torso, forcing my body back against a rock-solid frame as Ryken brought his hand to my mouth, muffling my protests. I fought against his hold, biting his fingers as he dragged me from the crowd, my feet sliding along the stone walkway of the square.

He hauled me away and through the garden as I kicked and screamed, trying to find purchase. And when we were alone and out of sight, he threw me up against a pillar and spoke in a harsh whisper, “What is wrong with you? Are you stupid?” His words were vehement. “If anyone saw you, it would place a target on your back! You would be the next to burn on that pyre!”

I darted to escape his hold, but he caught me, placing a hand on my chest to push me back against the pillar. He planted one arm on the side of my head and pinned his body against mine, caging me in. Ryken’s eyes locked on mine, his hand still clasped over my mouth as I screeched against his palm.

“Calm down,” he ordered.

But I didn’t listen. Instead, I railed against him, refusing to yield, and he lifted his hand from my mouth and slammed his lips against mine.

My protests went silent as I gasped in shock, and he grasped the opportunity to swirl his tongue against mine, in a move that left me dumbstruck. The taste of him was so incredibly intoxicating. The feel of him sent a heady thrill through my body, and for a moment, I’d forgotten why I’d been so irate.

Desire clouded my thoughts, and temptation told me to let go of what had been so upsetting. But the jeers of the crowd, not too far away, drifted into my ears, and I remembered. The women of the order. The rift. Aiden.

I bit down on Ryken’s tongue, and a sharp metallic taste flooded my mouth. A wolfish smile stretched across his face as he pulled back and said, “I never thought of you as someone who likes to bite. Delightful.”

My stomach flipped, but I pushed him away. “What is wrong with you?”

Ryken shrugged and swiped his thumb across his bottom lip. “You were acting hysterical.”

“And you thought forcing a kiss on me would help?”

“It didn’t feel forced.” Ryken chuckled.

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