Page 136 of A War of Three Kings

“I told you I would get you back.”

My blood turns to ice at that voice, as his fingers curl painfully into my flesh. At Finan, forcing himself on top of me in my bed. A maddening horror whips through me, making my frantic thoughts whirl faster and faster until I can’t hear anything over the top of my own internal screams.

No. No. No.

This was not meant to happen.

He was supposed to be out of my life.

Never able to touch me again.

“Are you happy to see me?” he purrs softly. My sudden stillness has him dropping his guard, moving slightly and loosening his grip on me.

I reach my legs up and kick him hard in the stomach through the blanket. The impact of my bare feet hitting his breastplate reverberates through my bones, but he jolts back far enough for me to scramble out from under him. I grab the dagger from under my pillow as I roll.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” I growl. “I should kill you right here for everything you have done.”

His eyes widen on the blade, then flick to my face. Betrayal flashes within that ice-blue gaze, and a primal rage is born within me, because he expected me towelcomehim.

I come to my senses and pull on my magic. My hair rises as a breeze circles around me. I reach for the trunks of the small pine trees that grow as support beams in the walls of this cabin. They bow toward us threateningly. I could easily pull a splinter from one and kill him with it.

Tongues of flame ignite across my fingertips and dance there, ready to burn him alive. Is it better for the war effort to kill him or capture him?

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice says from the doorway.

I slowly turn my head to where a guard in royal purple holds a knife to Diarmuid’s throat.

My entire world condenses down to those two figures, illuminated by bright moonlight. My brother stands completely still, his eyes wide and his lips mouthing an apology.I stare at him as I let my magic go. I would sacrifice everything to ensure he lives.

A blow cracks across the side of my head. I collide into the wall and fall into a seated position on the ground. Diarmuid’s cry rings out, but I am too stunned to move.

“You told me you wouldn’t hurt her!” my brother screams.

Finan crouches down in front of me, peering into my face. A single black ringlet falls between his eyes. “Do you see what you made me do?” He runs a tender hand down my cheek, making my skin crawl, then slaps my face hard, venom spilling from his lips. “I should punish you for making this war necessary. For taking that fucking fae to your bed.” His features calm again. “But I’m in a forgiving mood. I have already taken my anger out on…others.”

A slow smile curls his lips. The exact expression that once made my stomach tumble and heart flutter now makes me sick.

“Who?” The single word escapes me as I picture another attack on Fort Blackrock.

He grabs me roughly by the arm and tugs me to my feet.“Oh, you will see.” He laughs. “Should I ruin the fun, Jaxon?” He looks to the guard still clutching my brother, then whips his head back to me. “You see, it was incredibly easy to get to you after a Southern lord tipped me off that the priestesses visited him and were spreading lies. I left the Mothers of Magic in the capital no choice but to bring us here, especially after I slaughtered my way through their sanctuary.” He tsks. “No guards at all in these places.”

“We shouldn’t need guards, you monster!” I yell. “No one thought you’d descend to such atrocities and sacrilege. Are you not at all afraid of the gods’ wrath?” I shake with rage and the need to smite him with my power. But I am not faster than that soldier with his knife at Diarmuid’s throat.

“I AM THE KING! Appointed by the gods!” Finan grabs me by the throat and shoves me against the wall. “And you will learn how to speak to me properly.”

“My king, the potion,” Jaxon says nervously, glancing over his shoulder. It is only then that I notice the screaming and wailing coming from outside this room.

Finan grabs a vial from his pocket and uncorks it with his thumb. I struggle against him, jerking my chin up and clamping my teeth. Finan is the same height as me, and not a whole lot wider. I throw out my elbow to knock the poison from his hand, but he uses his grip on my throat to smash my head against a wooden beam.

The impact jars my brain, and my vision turns black for a heartbeat. I stomp on his foot, then raise a knee that feels disconnected from my body and slam it into his groin, but it meets his damned armor again.

When he shoves my head into the trunk of the pine a second time, my magic takes hold of it, tearing its branches out of the wall and whittling their tips down into sharp points, bringing an entire cage around us, its barbs pointed at him. On the third and most brutal impact of my head against the wood, pain sears through me so intensely that all coherent thought escapes me and I drop the threads of the magic.

The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue.

Finan’s fingers bite into my chin as he grabs it and yanks my head toward the doorway. “Have you already forgotten about poor Diarmuid?”

The guard slashes the skin of my brother’s neck and blood trickles down it. My heart stops until I realize it is a shallow wound.

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