Page 12 of Merciless Is My Crown

My blood chilled down even further.

What did they want?

We’d been riding for Nightcairn, for home and safety and a warm bed. For a respite from the blood and war. Now…I had a feeling none of those things lay ahead of us.

Suddenly my once-bright future slipped through my fingers, along with a crystal-clear revelation. This would never end. The killing. The suffering. The death.

Like the avalanche of rock that had crushed me—crushed Amalla—in that vision from so long ago, my future crashed down with enough force to pulverize my hopes, devastate my dreams, and leave me stuck in a void of aching despair.

I wasn’t up to this task.

I was a fucking nobody. A slave girl who stole the power of a king.

Torin inclined her head, but her all-seeing gaze never left my face, as if she saw my every weakness, pity etched upon her beautiful features.

“We will tell you everything. But not until Zorander arrives.” She caught Simon’s hand, her knuckles whitening, she clenched his fingers so tightly. “Our story is complicated, and I have no wish to relive the past once, much less twice.”

Her mouth quirked up in a sad smile. “Besides, we have a favor to ask, and I expect you will need time to consider our request.” Her gaze landed on me again, but this time, it was thoughtful.

“For good or bad, we are now in this together.”

6

ANARIA

By the time Zorander and Adele arrived, I was going mad from the itching, Tavion catching my hands every time they drifted down to scratch. “You’re growing new skin, my love. Sometimes that part’s worse than the pain,” he patiently reminded me for the hundredth time.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” I muttered, digging my heels into the settee. I was getting my bearings back, though the past few hours were still a muddled fog.

Adele had taken one look at my injuries and settled into an old chair in a shadowed corner, her arms hugged around her knees, pale eyes shining like faelights from the darkness. I couldn’t tell if her expression was fear.

Or disappointment.

Zor stalked straight to me, cupped my chin, and gave me a fierce, desperate kiss. “I could have killed Tavion when he rode away with you, Anaria. But he got you here in time.” Then he turned his attention on poor Bexley. “How much longer must she suffer like this?” Zor’s jaw flexed when he stared down at my ravaged legs. The skin was twisted and raw, but the deep gashes had knit together, forming puckered scars.

Zor, already caught up on the Reaper, had let out a curse fouler than anything I’d ever heard before. Now he was determined to mother hen me to death.

“A few more hours if you want her wounds to heal with as little scarring as possible,” Bexley apologized, probably tired of being threatened with death every time he turned around. “I could quit now, but the skin wouldn’t regrow smoothly. There would be permanent marks.”

“Ignore them. Thank you for saving me. You’ve done more than I ever could have asked, Bexley.” I cut off whatever insults Zor and Tavion were about to hurl at Bexley as the mage sent another wave of healing magic over my legs.

“Take as long as you need. This actually isn’t that bad. See?” I said brightly, even though all I wanted to do was dig my nails in and scratch.

“Besides.” I glanced over at Torin and Simon huddled together on an oversized chair, Zorander following my gaze with single-minded intensity. “Now that you’re here, these two are finally ready to share some vital information we could have used months ago.” I couldn’t keep the sarcastic bitterness from my tone.

Tristan and Tavion stood side by side with their backs to the fire, Zor remained close, and Raziel hadn’t left my side. Bexley was at my feet, his magic never ceasing.

We were quite the group, blood splattered and dirty, exhausted…starving.

Now that I wasn’t dying, I was painfully aware how hungry I was. When had I last eaten? When had any of us? A silent Adele hung back in the shadows, Tavion’s cloak wrapped around her like a shield. Out of us all, my mother was the weakest, physically. If she didn’t eat soon, she’d collapse.

“Food. We have to eat,” I told Raziel softly. “Is there anything left from the last time we were here?”

Raz shook his head. “We did a quick search and turned up nothing.”

“Tavion could hunt,” I suggested tentatively, already calculating how long that would take until we were actually eating. Too long. “Or Tristan. There has to be game in the forest.” Regret left a sour taste in my mouth at the idea of killing some poor, helpless creature, but I kept quiet, knowing how that would go over with these hardened warriors.

“We’ll hunt. Shouldn’t take more than an hour or two.” Tavion got to his feet, eager to finally do something, but Bexley’s derisive snort stopped him.

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