Page 64 of Saved By The King's Gamma

“And she will have to live with what she did, she is a monster, but even monsters have a story. Even monsters can feel, but I am not a monster, and I won’t be responsible for her children being orphaned,” I tell him as my eyes move in her direction.

“She is just as much a victim as I am,” I say, tears burning my eyes. Gannon growls.

“No!” he snarls.

“It’s my choice. You said it’s my choice,” I whisper, and he looks at me.

“She needs to be punished for what she did. She doesn’t deserve to live after that,” he snarls, stepping toward her, and she whimpers, cowering away from him and I grip his shirt in my fist, making him stop.

“My choice, what she did was wrong, but-” I look at Cassandra. “Fear makes people do foolish things. That is something I do understand,” I tell him.

“No, I am not letting her go,” Gannon says, shaking his head.

“You said I got to choose what happened to her, so mindlink the King.”

“Abbie!”

Gannon snarls, his anger rolling off him in waves as he paces the cell, but I stand my ground. “No, Gannon, either you get the King, or I go see Azalea. I won’t allow you to kill her. She has kids, and I am not leaving them orphaned to suffer the same fate I did,” I tell him, my voice firm despite the fear in my chest. His lips pull back in a snarl, but he stalks out of the cell, slamming the door behind him.

Cassandra collapses the moment he’s gone, her body trembling as sobs wrack her frame. “Thank you, thank you,” she cries, her voice breaking, and I watch her for a moment, the bitterness inside me battling with pity.

“Go home to your children and forget about me, Cassandra. I was never a threat to you. But if you come back, I will let him skin you alive like he wants to, and I will hand him the tools while he does it,” I tell her coldly. I mean every word—this is her only chance, and I won’t be so merciful again.

She nods frantically, her gaze flicking toward the door where Gannon had gone, her face paling at the thought of his wrath. “Don’t ruin your second chance. I won’t give you a third,” I warn her before turning my back and walking out of the cell. Gannon is waiting for me outside, glaring at the floor, his shoulders tense with frustration.

I stop beside him, resting my hand on his chest. “Don’t be mad,” I murmur, trying to soften the tension between us. His chest rises and falls beneath my palm, and I can feel the barely contained anger simmering within him.

“I’m not mad at you,” he replies, his voice gruff, though I can hear the strain in it.

“Yes, you are, but that’s okay. I don’t expect you to understand my request,” I tell him, my tone gentle, but I know this is hard for him. Gannon lets out a frustrated sigh but cups my face in his hands, pulling me closer. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then wraps me in a tight hug, his warmth briefly comforting against the chill of the dungeon.

“Kyson and Azalea are on their way down,” he whispers against my hair, his breath stirring the strands. I nod, pulling back just enough to look up at him, grateful despite the tension that lingers between us.

“Thank you,” I tell him softly, and he just holds me a moment longer before stepping back, letting me go.

I turn as footsteps echo down the corridor, and soon, Kyson appears with Azalea beside him. Even from a distance, I can feel the power radiating off him, his presence filling the space. He’s got a firm grip on Azalea’s arm, guiding her down the dark, steep steps like he’s done it a thousand times. When they reach the bottom, I see Azalea scanning the shadowy wine cellar, her face tightening when her eyes land on me.

I want to run to her, but my body locks up, and I feel a strange pressure wash over me—her command. My feet refuse to move, my muscles straining against the invisible force. Azalea’s face crumples in realization, and she groans softly.

“You can go to her, but when we get home, we are going to have to work on you removing the command over them,” I hear Kyson murmur to her. His voice is low, but it carries easily in the stillness of the cellar.

“You will teach me?” she asks, sounding almost hopeful.

“I don’t have a choice,” he grumbles, and I catch the edge of frustration in his tone. His body is tense, like he’s holding back something more. His words make me wonder why he’s so uncomfortable with the idea of her learning to use her command. Could she control him, too, if she wanted to? I’ve heard stories about Landeena’s blood and its power, but seeing Kyson’s unease makes me wonder if there’s more to it.

Azalea reaches out to me, her hand trembling slightly, and the moment she touches me, the command releases, and I find myself stumbling forward. She pulls me into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around me with a desperation that matches my own. I cling to her, burying my face in her shoulder for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent of her.

As we hold each other, I quickly explain what happened with Cassandra—how Gannon found her, and how I couldn’t let him kill her, not when she has children waiting for her. Azalea listens, her expression thoughtful and pained, and I can see she understands.

I glance over her shoulder at Kyson, who is standing just inside Cassandra’s cell. His entire body is tense, his aura practically crackling with the force of his suppressed anger. He’s glaring at Cassandra, and I know he’s fighting the urge to end her right there. His eyes flick to Azalea, then back to Cassandra, and I can see the struggle in his jaw, the barely controlled violence in the tightness of his posture.

“You will endure the same punishment,” I hear him growl at Cassandra, and my stomach twists with anxiety. I can’t let this happen—I may not like her, but I don’t want more blood on my conscience.

“Kyson!” Azalea’s voice rings out, and I flinch at the raw edge in her tone. She steps forward, catching his attention, and I feel the tension shift. Azalea is standing up for Cassandra, just like I did, and I know she sees the same pain in her that I do.

Kyson turns his head, his expression hardening as he meets Azalea’s gaze. “Let her go; I am fine. Enough blood has been spilled. Leave it be,” Azalea pleads, and I can hear the determination in her voice. Kyson’s eyes flicker with something unreadable before he growls, his hands clenching at his sides.

He glares at Cassandra one last time before bending down to grab the chain that’s wrapped around her ankle. My breath catches when he yanks it hard, tearing it clean off the wall with a growl. Cassandra shrieks in terror, her voice echoing through the dim cellar, and my heart stutters in my chest. For a moment, I think he’s going to use the chain on her, the way he looks at it with such cold fury. But then he drops it with a metallic clang, reaching out instead to grab her face.

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