Page 148 of Burn

I would dismember his tongue next. After that, I would saw off his prick. Then I’d snip his arteries, strand by strand.

But why delay the main event? With a growl, I snatched the king’s knife, juggled it in one hand, and wielded my own dagger in the other. Crossing my arms, I braced both weapons inches above his throat. It would take one jolt, one reverse motion to slash his neck open with two blades.

Squatting over the king, I leaned on one upturned knee and snarled through my canines. “You’ve overstayed your welcome, sweeting.”

My arms jerked—then froze.

Two different sets of hands had gripped my elbows, stalling the kill. I glanced toward the freckled wrist first, her touch gentle but firm, before traveling to her eyes. In that sterling gaze, I saw my homicidal reflection, how close I’d come to losing myself because of him.

Tenderly, Briar shook her head. “We are smarter than this.”

Let us never be like him.

Recalling those words from the treehouse, I stayed my weapons. Aye, we could do better, cleverer, wiser than mutilating Summer.

He didn’t deserve death. That would be too easy.

For Briar, I would tear the world to shreds. But that didn’t mean I needed to carve the king apart to achieve the same result.

With every ounce of restraint I possessed, I channeled my princess’s willpower. Whilst clenching my teeth so hard I could bite through iron, I maneuvered back.

Aire and his troops blocked Summer’s knights, whereas Winter and Springs’ forces remained neutral. That explained why no one had dragged me from Rhys’s limp form.

As for the citizens, their gazes tripped between us and the king. Yet instead of abhorrence being directed at us, they visibly impaled Summer with righteous glowers and disgusted pity. He’d attempted to murder Autumn’s heiress in front of them, whilst Briar was unarmed and seconds after she’d prostrated herself in the name of peace.

And however much the people historically valued pacifism over violence, they’d barely recovered from their own riotous actions, with the town flaming around them and broken glass carpeting the streets. They didn’t have the time or right to judge my own rage. Especially not when I’d been defending their sovereign. Indeed, the denizens who had sided against my thorn, who’d chanted for her to burn, now directed their resentment at Rhys.

Some adults covered their children’s eyes. Only then did I feel a jolt of shame. Thank Seasons, Nicu wasn’t here.

Finally, Briar’s attention strayed to the person hunched on my opposite side. I swerved toward the other hand braced on my forearm, taking in the deep olive skin, slender fingers, and signet ring. My head snapped up, my gaze colliding with a pair of steady but vehement eyes.

Giselle of Summer stared at me, her expression neither furious nor forgiving. Nay, she sounded too pissed off at her husband to bother with anything else. “If you don’t mind,” she said. “I’ll take it from here.”

Briar and I rose with Giselle, who nodded to Summer’s troops, then swept her fingers toward what was left of Rhys. “Apprehend your king.”

“Woman, you have no right to humiliate me!” the man gargled around a mouthful of blood.

Aire ordered his forces to disband. Summer’s knights reluctantly followed their queen’s orders by hauling the king off the ground.

All the whilst, Giselle branded her husband with a scathing look. “You have committed continental treason. You attempted to murder a Royal in the name ofournation. You have broken our alliances, risked making an enemy of The Dark Seasons, and thus condemned our court to ruin. You have lied to my face, undermined my authority, and betrayed your marriage vow to act as my equal.” The queen lifted a single, perfectly plucked eyebrow. “I have every fucking right.”

At which point, she raised her voice and addressed the crowd. Every treacherous act against Autumn and The Dark Seasons poured from her lips, including every lie and fabrication Rhys had orchestrated, from his manipulation of the Masters to his recruitment of the harvesters, to his spies in Winter and Spring, to his hand in Briar’s allergy poisoning and the born soul’s murder. Without hesitation, Giselle left no crime unexposed.

Murmurs traveled across the expanse. The more people heard, the more they gaped at the king in repugnance. They may not support the liberation of born souls—not yet—but neither did they believe a Royal had immunity to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

Briar could attest to that. I tightened my arm around the princess, pulling her close. She gripped me in kind whilst our clan edged nearby. The ladies, Eliot, and Aire clustered beside us.

Rhys spluttered, a host of denials and accusations ejecting from his mouth like grenades, which struck like duds as everyone witnessed the cocksucker’s downfall. He stabbed a finger in Briar’s direction, his good eye slitting. “She’s mad! This bitch, her jester whore, and their bastard child will be the end of our continent! I did my duty and exercised my right as a king!”

Switching tactics, Rhys petitioned Basil, Fatima, and Jeryn. “Spring. Winter. Tell everyone, curse you!”

But the prince only tapered his crystalline irises and lifted his imperial chin. Basil and Fatima squinted at Rhys in distaste. They weren’t on our side regarding equality and tolerance. Yet when it came to authority, they weren’t about to defend Summer either.

The king balked through his one good eye. The bloodshot white of his orb flickered in panic as it swung from the Royals to the public. Never mind which body parts I’d tear from him. One false move against this sea of bodies and weapons, and it wouldn’t be pretty.

Giselle cast her gaze on Briar and me. “I imagine you have requests.”

His heart in my fist would be appealing. Instead, I interpreted my thorn’s deliberate silence. Stalking forward, I tightened my fingers around the hilt of my dagger and rasped, “Kneel to her.”

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