Page 156 of The Jasad Crown

Red clouded my vision. Between one blink and the next, every vein in my body lit into an inferno. But the men only saw the magic swirling in my eyes before they found themselves hurled back into the wall, their bodies pinned by an invisible force against the gray stone.

I dropped to my knees beside him. My hands hovered uselessly, trying to assess the damage. They’d broken his right arm. Certainly cracked his ribs, if his rattling breath was any indication. His face—his beautiful, barely healed face—had been battered into a mess.

I gently peeled a lock of hair from a gash on his forehead. Arincould have disassembled every man in this cell blindfolded with a hand tied behind his back. I’d watched him cut down a swarm of magic-rotted Omalian soldiers like he was brushing his hair.

“He didn’t fight back,” I whispered. It echoed in my head, bouncing across the edges of my shock until it became a roar. My magic clawed for release, and I did not resist it. The rush of power quieted the grief howling in my chest.

He didn’t fight back.

I stood slowly, palms open at my sides. The pinned men squirmed against the wall. Helpless. Pathetic. “You attacked a hostage in his cell. Seven against one. When you saw he wasn’t fighting back, you thought what? You’d have a nice story about cornering the Nizahl Heir to carry back to your wives? I recognize how difficult it must be for you to excite your women in bed, but this story doesn’t end well for you. In fact, this story ends you.”

I placed two fingers on the throat of the first man. His eyes bugged, limbs jerking unnaturally. “Hmm.” I tilted my head, the glow from my eyes casting light over his paling features. “How long does it take a tongue to melt? Let us find out together.”

The red-haired man’s screams filled the cell until they petered into a guttural groan. His head lolled forward as he fainted, blood pouring from between his parted lips.

The next man started screaming before I even touched him. My brows rose. “Now, now. No need for theatrics.” I tapped his nose. His skin began to undulate, his flesh stretching into grotesque bubbles under his skin.

The bubbles popped, and ants poured from the seeping wounds into the man’s eyes, nose, and ears. He choked on them as he tried to scream. “How many ants does it take to chew from skin to bone? So many questions we’re answering today.”

I had just shifted in front of the third when a strong arm wound around my stomach. Arin had drawn himself up from the ground,his chest heavy against my back. He yanked me away from the man. “Stop it.” Haggard, barely audible.

“But we are having such fun,” I insisted. “Right, gentlemen?”

The second man screamed again, and the ants seized the opportunity to flood his mouth a second time. Tsk. What did I tell him about theatrics?

“Suraira. Enough.”

Arin staggered, the arm around my stomach tightening for a different reason. I caught his waist, immediately forgetting anything other than the injured Heir in my arms. “Arin?”

I held him tight to keep his head from skimming the wall as we collapsed to the ground. The arm around me never went slack, keeping me firmly pressed to his side. We landed in a heap.

“You didn’t fight back,” I said, and it came out small and childlike. “Why?”

“Their magic was drained… as soon as their skin came into contact… with mine.” He swallowed, his throat working to gather his words. “Their magic went to the scepter.

“Let them…” He stopped to breathe, the same horrible rattling sound accompanying the action. “Go.”

I seethed. They did not deserve to leave this cell whole and intact. “They drained their magic when they hit you—fine. What does it matter?” I recoiled as a sudden thought occurred to me. “Please don’t say you allowed them to attack you out of a sense offairness. Arin, they would have been at a disadvantage with or without their tombs-damned magic!”

Arin raised his brows silently, not ceding any ground. “Let them go.”

We glared at each other. Finally, I swung my head toward the pinned men, my glare hot upon them. “Remember this. This is the mercy of the man you brutalized. It is because of him your lives will not end in this cell.”

I waved, releasing them from their holds. They sprinted out, shoving one another in their hurry. One of them stopped to haul the unconscious first man over his shoulder.

“At least the one with the ants lost a decent layer of skin,” I said sullenly.

Arin coughed, but he might’ve been trying to laugh. “How much tongue does the first one have left?”

I sniffed. “Just the root, I hope.”

Agonizing minutes passed while Arin caught his next breath. “You can’t harm a Jasadi on my behalf. They will lose faith…” Another long moment. It hurt to watch him try to draw air. “In your impartiality. In your leadership.”

He’d prevented me from filleting the men who did this formyprotection?

That did it. Tears I hadn’t noticed building spilled onto my cheeks. I covered my face, embarrassed to be the one crying when Arin had about half an inch of unbruised skin left.

“You should not spend your tears on me.”

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