Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121339 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
He slung the instrument. Steel-tipped leather sliced across her skin. She sucked in a breath and trapped it behind her teeth. The garment the guards had supplied tore. The pain flared as blood welled up.
“So beautiful.” He swung it again. “So breakable.”
Fuck this guy was the worst. He was so concerned about breakable. She wanted to turn those words against him.
She fell into the pain as it rippled across her body. Fell into the feeling of him slicing her flesh.
She wasn’t like most humans. Lexi had given her the gift of the gods. Now, she wasn’t any more breakable than fae. Than him. She’d proven it in those games. She would prove it still.
“You do not deserve life, most of you,” he said, and she gritted her teeth against the pain. “You are good for only amusement.”
He hit her harder, high and low, her arms and face. Her legs. Her feet. Blood flowed down her skin, covering every square inch. Pain made her woozy, but she held on to it like a lifeline. If she felt pain, it meant she was alive. It meant she could still fight. And she would. She was a captive at this moment, but they would eventually release her. They would move her. She would be ready for it.
“Your kind needs a ruler.” He was breathing heavily when he finally stopped. “I will be that ruler. But by then…you will be dead. Turn her.”
Fear punched a hole through her middle, but she didn’t react. They might find that knife, but she could still kill with her bare hands. Zorn had made sure of that. When this king didn’t have his magic, they would be equals.
Only worry about that which you can control. For the rest, wait…and be ready to move.
The chains pulled at her wrists, stretching her, and she let them. The excess was hooked on a peg so she’d stay put, and she waited for them to find the knife.
Steel sliced across her back. Liquid dribbled from the cuts. Again. Again. The cool air touched each slash, elevating the sting to something worse. Like salt being poured into the wound. It kept her grounded. Kept her tethered to reality. To this world.
She could hear the king’s excited breathing, heavy even over the sharp sound of the whip. Lacy bits of fabric stuck to her wounds, soon numbed from the harsh treatment. Any moment they would find that knife, still stuck to her skin. Hiding behind material that was slowly but surely being cut away.
The bottom of the garment waved as it fell from her body. The instrument continued to work. The top followed shortly thereafter. No clothing covered her now.
The knife stayed put.
It should’ve been on full display. Yet there was no mention. The lashes kept coming.
She reveled in the pain. Bathed in it. Her mind wanted to sink away to save her consciousness, but she wouldn’t let it. Instead, she clung to the thoughts of those she loved to keep her strong. To the fact she would be a hero, come hell or high water, and Mordecai would be so mad at her for sacrificing herself to achieve it. Pettiness for the win.
When he was done, sagging with the effort, Daisy was covered in blood. It ran freely down her skin in a wash of crimson.
“Yes,” the king said, surveying his work. “Good. Take her to the bed. I’ll have her there.”
Her wailing barely made a sound now, having been forced out of her somewhere along the way. Her fatigue silenced her voice. That was just her body, though. That wasn’t her mind. And when the mind was strong, the body didn’t matter.
It wasn’t as eloquent as Zorn might’ve said it, but whatever. It worked.
The minions released first one manacle, then the other. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor in a puddle of her own blood. Her body quivered.
Okay, maybe the body mattered a little bit…
They bent and reached for her, their hands stained with strands of black. The king lay on the bed, nude and prone, waiting for her. It would become his deathbed. Somehow.
She closed her eyes, feeling the magic of the room. Feeling the eddies and flows, twisting and bending from a few areas but tranquil and smooth in another.
The diamond chalice.
It had come alive because of her. It had called to her in the Court Hall. It stood by now, ready.
It had damned well better be. It had ultimately gotten her into this mess.
The hands grabbed her, but she focused on the diamond chalice. Felt it. Reached for it with the magic it had gifted her. Had cursed her with.
Its bright, hot pulse in her middle made her sob. The heat expanded, filling her up…and then overflowed. It pushed out onto her skin and coated her. Blanketed her. But it didn’t heal her. Blood still cascaded down her torn flesh, dripping in places, oozing in others. If she used it to heal that, the king would know she was more than he suspected. More than a mere fragile human.