Page 112 of The Enemy's Daughter

With effort, the man shuffles me to one arm, then rips down the white fabric I was to be married under. A brutal blow lands in my stomach, and while I’m gasping for air, he tightly secures me to the tree with the cloth.

Elise shouts her outrage. “You can’t be serious. Let her go!”

Another man shouts. “Someone get the Saraf.”

“Yes,” Gerald yells. “Someone get the Saraf. Or rather, someonereleasehim.”

A lump of terror forms in my throat as I watch the Maska soldiersguarding my porch open my front door. Percy is the first to run out of the house; Father’s not far behind. Their faces are tight with anger. They hold no weapons. More Maska file out behind them.

Gerald shouts over everyone. “The time for real leadership has come.”

Father’s feet stop moving when he sees me bound. “Gerald. Release her.” There’s a deadly quality to his voice.

“I can’t. She’s a traitor.”

Father bares his teeth. “Someone shoot him,” he commands.

Gerald smiles. “Siding with a traitor makes you a traitor. How about someone shoothim?”

Father attempts to say something, but the Maska soldiers who just escorted him from the house turn and fire on him. Some only feet away. An arrow lodges in Father’s throat, the shaft stretching from ear to ear. A look of shock ripples across his face, before sliding back into rage. More arrows punch into his navel. His back. His side. He fights to stay on his feet but falls to the ground.

I scream until my voice gives out, but it’s only one of many as chaos explodes around me. People duck for cover. Men from all clans turn and fight the Maska. Percy drops to Father’s side, and I lose sight of them both.

An explosion rips through the air. A deafening bang, impossibly loud. People jump and huddle together as they turn toward the sound. Gerald is pointing a gun in the air. Although there are many of those around, I thought the ammunition had long ago gone bad or run out.

In the new silence, Gerald yells, “I won’t apologize for killing any man who stands in the way of justice—even the Saraf. Not when that crime affects every one of us. These two have committedtreason by betraying us for the Kingsland. They set the prisoners free.”

A low murmur breaks out, but most of the people are too shocked or afraid to speak.

“Lies!” Liam shouts, as he hunches over, bracing his broken body. He’s silenced with a kick to his wounded leg.

“There were seven witnesses, including me,” Gerald continues. “There is no need for a trial.”

The man who tied me to the tree opens a flask and dumps it over my head. The amber liquid drips down the front of the white cloth and bites at my skin. I blink furiously as the fumes of the alcohol sting my eyes but go still as he takes his knife and a piece of flint from his vest.

“No. Please don’t.” My whispered words are filled with as much disbelief as they are a plea.

He strikes his knife against the stone.

Tristan’s screams reach my ears and somewhere deep inside my soul. They fill me with a sadness I’m sure I could drown in if given enough time.

The flint is struck again.

My eyes slip closed, and I send a thought to Tristan.I love you.

We’ll share it,he says.Give me half.His words come through like a broken whisper, thanks to the distance between us.

I’m stunned by his request. I can’t imagine passing the horror of being burned onto him, but thankfully, I don’t have to make the choice. We’re not close enough to share.

Tristan must come to the same realization, because he fights to inch forward along the dirt as the men on top of him hold him down.

Other shouts fill the air, but a shocking number aren’t calling for my survival. How quickly people have switched sides now that Gerald has gained control.

That, or they truly believe I’m a traitor.

My brother’s voice cuts through the noise, drawing my attention. His face is red, mouth etched in a scream as he sprints toward me. There’s a knife in his hand. He doesn’t make it far before he’s stopped, tackled to the ground. Close by him, I find a crying Freia.

My focus shifts to the cursing man, struggling to set me on fire.

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