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Whatever happened during my otherwise peaceful blackout landed me trussed up in this unfamiliar room, covered in blood, with a stringy piece of something stuck between my teeth and a likely fractured eye socket. This is not looking good.
“You think I’m scared of your little toy, Rekk?”
“You should be.”
“I’ve seen bigger. But hey, if whipping a female makes you feel like a strong boy, then don’t let me stomp your dreams. Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’ve got enough balls for the both of us.”
Yes, I fought off the doomquills, but I would’ve lost if the massive Moonplume that had been circling hadn’t shown up and blazed the rest of them. Yes, I then climbed on her back and held on really tight for really long until she listened to my soft song, but I just did what I had to do to get my brother home. Because the Creators wouldn’t sing to me no matter how much I begged them to help. Now they won’t shut up.
Broken. He lifts his hand and makes a show of loosening his fingers, letting the useless lump of metal fall to the ground with a clatter that echoes off the walls to the tune of my rallying heart. Fuck.
“I’m not usually one to take things from a female that aren’t given freely,”
“However, your voice reminds me of somebody I used to know, and I’ve spent five sleepless slumbe...
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“Vaghth,”
His chest boils with a sound that makes me picture the ground shaking, the tip of his finger tracing the jagged scar on my forehead. A scar that can be seen by dragonflame—the only substance in existence that can ignite a trail of long-ago runes and unearth their glowing ghosts.
“Your head,”
“You’ve been ...
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“Don’t remember getting that one.”
“Your eye. What happened?”
“Tripped on a stone.”
“Did it reach up and punch you i...
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“Strangest ...
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“Who are you protecting, Moonbeam?”
“That’s not my name. And I don’t need you to fight my battles any more than I need your presence in this cell.”
“Prove it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Turn around, lift your tunic, and show me your back. If a stone can cause such damage to your face, I’m very interested to see just what it’s done to pack ...
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“I . . ...
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“Always so st...
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he bites out, cradling the words like he fu...
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Sire. Fucking Sire.
“You’re a . . . king.”
“As I said.”
“Is that a problem, Moonbeam?”
The Shade, The Fade, and The Burn are each ruled by a different Vaegor brother, each cut from the same vile cloth.
The Shade is said to be even more rotten than this kingdom, if rumors are anything to go by, the cold, shadowed expanse governed by King Tyroth Vaegor. A cruel king with a heart said to fester from the loss of his queen.
is she the lost queen?
One thing’s for sure—I wouldn’t bow to any of them, even if a sword was notched at my neck.
“She took out an entire unit in the Undercity. Collapsed the lungs of seven soldiers before she even began tossing her blades. She slaughtered another twelve in ways that would make your insides wither, forged a cleft in the ground that took another six, then bit off the finger of a prestigious bounty hunter employed by the Crown.”
“Wanna tussle?”
“If I win, you purchase my sentence, and I go back to killing vile males with small cocks and enough ego to justify their sick behavior. And you get to go back to . . . well, hunting moonshards.”
The world around us fades into oblivion as he looks upon me with such a fierce intensity I almost forget how to breathe.
“Not much point anymore, since I’ve found the most important piece.”
“Well, off you go,”
“Collect your prize.”
“H...
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“It’s in a problematic position. Diffic...
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I snort. ...
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The backs of my eyes burn as I think of that little wonky moon I’ll probably never see again . . . I love that most of all.
“Wrong. There’s only one thing males see in a shackled female,” I
“I’m not that sort of monster, Prisoner Seventy-Three. I would not take pleasure from you were it not given freely. Now, stand on your own or suffer the embarrassment of being picked up and carried.”
He’s a Vaegor. A tyrant. Tyrants lie to themselves as much as they lie to others.
“This better be a threesome,”
“I’m not one to share,”
“But if that’s what you really want, it can be arranged once y...
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the King doesn’t shift from his spot against the wall, something locks into place in the void between us. As though physical strings knot around my ribs, stretch across the room, and tether to his, making it impossible for me to draw a single breath without him noticing.
