Chapter 214. Soren
Soren
It was exactly two hours before dawn when the doors of the cells were unlocked, and three guards marched inside, the crests on their uniforms flaring brightly in the dark.
"Up, traitor," the guard spat, unlocking the chains from the ground. He left them on my wrists though, hooking them to my feet.
He probably thought it was a wise decision. With a different prisoner, he might have been right. But if I wanted to, even in chains and the bullets still lodged in my shoulders, one so close to my heart, he’d already be dead.
I rose to my full height and he shuffled back. He was a small man. Five foot nine.
I thought if he spat at me one more time, I would bash his head against the stones and make a mosaic of his brain matter.
Thankfully, he got the idea and blanched, letting the hybrid enforcer behind him take my arm instead and yank me out of the cell.
"Her Majesty would like a word."
I noted Jericho in the cell beside mine. He sat serenely, but I knew he wasn’t doing well. None of us were. Mercer was barely conscious. I could smell the burn from the muzzle on Quinlan’s head.
We were being refused treatment for the very same reason we were being caged and held like hounds.
The Queen was trying to break us. And when we appeared before the Councils, we wouldn’t be able to get a single coherent thought in because ash bullets, when left in our blood streams overtime, acted just like poison, and could leave permanent damage.
"Get a healer to see to their wounds," I said.
The enforcer scoffed. "What do you think this is? Your fancy castle? A five-star hotel? You don’t make demands here, princeling. If you could manage a rebellion, then I am sure a few bullets are nothing."
I cocked my head, staring down at him. "I hope they pay you well enough to cover for the funerals of your loved ones if something goes wrong with even one of them."
He froze. And then laughed. "You sure have a fat mouth for a man who’s got less than four hours to his execution."
Another enforcer flanked my left and shoved me ahead, past the lines of cells of rogues and exiles.
The cells with the Hunt brothers sat empty. Sometime past midnight, they’d been taken to a different chamber. For torture, I assume, to give away Margaret’s real location.
It was commendable, really, how effective my aunt could be when she was discarding her enemies. One stone to eight birds was definitely an excellent statistic.
We veered left into a dim hallway and then right, and then left again. Eight turns before we finally reached the grand, receiving hall.
The Lycan Queen stood tall in her regalia, hands folded behind her, her gaze fixed out the window.
My legs were kicked out from underneath me, forcing me to my knees.
"Snow in Ashbourne, at this time of the year," she said gravely, sticking her hand out the window to catch a few flakes. "It really is a day to remember."
"I don’t imagine you had me summoned to talk about the weather."
The enforcer shoved his knee into my back and when I keeled over, his companion slammed his boot into my chest. Another kick hit my face. "Watch your tone."
I swallowed a curse as blood flooded my mouth.
"Enough of that," the Queen said, her voice laced with worry. "My nephew has been through a great deal today."
She lifted her voluminous skirts and walked over. The crown was missing from her head and for a moment, she looked like a regular woman. Green eyes. Red hair. Soft, caring expression.
It was deceptive.
I couldn’t believe I had ever fallen for that act. Or ran to her when I got injured. Or slept in her arms as a babe.
She knelt in front of me, graceful fingers finding my chin careful. She lifted my face so she could peer into my fucking soul. "There is a great deal you do not understand. Hate me if you must, but all I have ever done is for the good of this world." Her thumb stroked my cheek. "You used to be such a good boy."
She was talking her usual jack shit again.
And I was in no mood for it.
"I know you have her. Name your price."
Her hand fell and her expression softened. "Contrary to what you believe, nephew, I had no hand in your mate’s disappearance. Matters of the heart can be quite delicate. I did warn you that she was no good for you."
She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Running off with some half-breed after conniving with her mother to get us all killed... I didn’t like her but I didn’t expect this mess of a situation, either."
I stared at her. I didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about, but I didn’t need to know because she was always talking shit.
"Keep your lies for someone gullible enough to believe them. Where have you taken her?" I snarled.
"Lies?" she echoed. Then her gaze lifted over my head and she nodded.
The guard stepped away for a moment and returned with a pile, handing them to the Queen.
I caught Maisie’s scent and my heart twisted so violently, I winched. Gods, I missed her so much, it was killing me inside.
"Is this a lie, then?" she asked, setting down a handwritten note on the floor in front of me. I recognized the writing. It was hers. The extended ’e’s and the curved ’i’s. The way she wrote like she was always in a rush to get to the next sentence.
My eyes glossed over the page.
I’m leaving.
I should’ve done it the night you dragged me down that altar like I was some prize you won. But transition got in the way and honestly, it did work in my favor in the long run.
I never wanted any of you.
I used you. All of you. I was a maid with nothing, and suddenly four powerful men were looking at me like I was worth something. It was pathetic how easy it was. A little crying here, a little softness there, and you all fell for it. You wanted to believe I was yours. So I let you.
Every time one of you touched me, I wanted to scrub my skin raw. I used to lie there after and feel sick. Sometimes I’d wait until you were asleep and go wash myself in the bathroom because I couldn’t stand the feeling of your hands on me. I hated the way you looked at me when you fucked me. Like I was something precious. It made me want to laugh.
And Soren... you were the only one who made me feel like maybe I could actually like it. But even then, I was just pretending. I got good at pretending.
The truth is, you made me feel disgusting. You made me feel so sick, I wanted to kill myself.
You trapped me with you and I have sought all the several ways to break this cursed bond. And I may actually have found it.
A way to be truly free from you.
I was a girl who saw an opportunity and took it. And you were all stupid enough to believe I actually cared.
If you do survive the attack tonight and find this, I hope it hurts. I hope when you read this, you feel as sick as I felt every time I had to wake up next to you.
Don’t look for me. I’m exactly where I want to be.
Far away from the nightmare of being yours. And I’ll slit my own throat if it means returning--
A hoarse laugh escaped me as I stared at the horrendous signature at the bottom, so identical to Maisie’s, it tore my heart right out of my chest, but I said anyway, "She didn’t write this shit."