Page 111 of The Beast Of Gloomenthrall

Taking another deep breath, Perri reached determinedly for that calm headspace… tamping down hard on the urge to run at him, claw that cruddy evil smile from his lips with her fingernails. Calm. Breathe. For Levi. For Deacon. Perri could see both of them were struggling, testing the ropes, they were alive and safe for now.

“Considering why we’ve gathered here, it seemed a little foolish to exclude the boy.” Regal drawled as Perri and Brandth came to a halt some twelve feet from where he stood. “I say, Levi, have you met your mother yet?”

Oh, crud, Perri’s stomach threatened to revolt. Thankfully she’d been too nervous to eat. Noting out the corner of her eye that Levi had gone completely still.

For once Regal allowed his true inner feelings to shine forth and she saw seething hatred and gut deep disgust for just a moment or two. Annoyingly the emotions failed to dull his still beautiful features. “Bilg, turn the boy over, I’d like to introduce him to his long lost Mama.”

With a nudge of a boot, Levi was rolled over. His gaze unerringly fixing upon Perri. He was gagged. From this distance she couldn’t read his expression. But he barely blinked, staring at her intently.

“Monstrous, isn’t she? I know of men wounded in war and on the ships, who’ve taken less damage but after seeing their own visage in the mirror chose to end their lives rather than continue to haunt and horrify those around them.”

“I always thought your obsession with perfection and beauty would someday be your downfall.” Perri taunted, taking courage from Brandth’s unwavering presence beside her. Leaning his weight on one crutch, Brandth eyeing Regal like any moment he was going to leap forward and tear the man’s shrivelled heart out of his chest. Unconsciously, the edges of Perri’s lips tilted upwards in a smile, reaching over to give Brandth a placating pat on the arm. Soon, she silently promised, turning her attention back to Regal. “Haven’t you realised that the tide is already beginning to turn? You think yourself on top of the heap, the pinnacle. But surely you’ve noticed the deepening wrinkles around your eyes of late? The slight thickening of your waist? Soon the ladies gazes will turn to younger, prettier, fitter men. I wonder, as you age, Regal, whether your outsides will begin to reflect your insides. Then we’ll see who is deemed monstrous I think.”

“Look at you, having grown a backbone… finally. It would have been my pleasure to beat that out of you had you ever shown a glimmer of it when we first wed.”

“Lucky for me our marriage ended long ago… when you abandoned me for dead.”

“And just like always, you had to be contrary and fail to die. I must say, Perri-winkle, you are without doubt one of my greatest disappointments. And that’s including my brother Maraak, who unwittingly survived five covert murder attempts unscathed. Now, enough with the time wasting.” Regal raised his voice. “Bring them out.”

Perri’s stomach shrivelled, turning into a rock, as first Alia, then Talac, stepped out of the tree line, arms raised, both weaponless, followed by Elliott Heathscote, a notched arrow in his taunt bow aimed at the back of Talac’s neck. A large burly man similarly close on Alia’s heels, holding a glinting knife to her throat. He looked familiar for some reason.

Pushing aside the question of why the burly man appeared familiar, Perri concentrated on damning the Deities above instead. Why, oh why had they forsaken her? She’d come up with the perfect plan, and suddenly everything had turned to grutling manure.

“Is this him, then?” Regal enquired, distinct disinterest edging his tone.

“Yes. Finally.” Elliott kicked Talac in the back of the knees hard, sending him crashing to the ground. “Stay down. I’ve been searching for you high and low since I got here.”

Perri struggled to keep her expression blank… did Elliott and Regal not realise that Talac was Prince Zariffe? It appeared not. Attired in his guard uniform they only saw what they wanted to see.

Alia issued a small protesting sound as the knife at her throat dug in a little deeper, blood trickling down her bared décolletage.

“Hold.” Regal snapped out the instruction. “Not yet.”

“What are we standing around for?” The large burly man spoke, poking his head out from behind Alia. Perri recognised him now, Wilton, the one-handed man recently ejected from the Lair. And that wasn’t a knife at Alia’s throat, somehow, he’d gotten hold of a hook.

“We’re not all here yet.”

They weren’t?

Wilton’s brutish face looked nothing but petulant and predatory. “Then whilst we wait, I’ll just entertain myself with Lady Beast here.” An arrow suddenly appeared from nowhere, striking an inch or two from Wilton’s left boot. The man clutching Alia closer still, his head swivelling, searching the trees behind him for the archer.

“About that.” Regal sighed, sounding thoroughly put upon. “I know we had an agreement. I take care of the scarred bitch and the brat. Elliott gets the guardsman who cost him the hunt prize and we murder his cousin. And you get to end the giantess… but you see, plans change.”

“What are you saying?” Elliott demanded, he likewise was casting wary glances into the woods at his back. Disliking having who ever had fired that arrow standing in his blindspot.

“I’m saying after you two failed to kill her at the masquerade ball, our professional bowman requested a boon in exchange for continuing to provide me with his services. And since it appears he’s much more capable of delivering on his promises than either of you, I decided to grant him his wish.”

“And you promised to have my cousin killed. Yet he’s currently supping broth and recovering all too speedily from his light injury.”

“You can’t blame our friend that my former wife was on hand and is a skilled healer.”

“If the shot had been fatal, we wouldn’t be discussing this.” Elliott snarled.

“You were the one that said to make it look good for the crowd, requesting lots of blood and providing you with the opportunity to pledge your loyalty to your cousin on his death bed.”

“I don’t understand.” Wilton gritted out, his gaze shifting between the two bickering men, though his grip on Alia never lessened. “What are you poncing on about?”

“Haven’t you guessed? Our bowman came in with skills we need, continue to need, and all he wants in return is her.” Regal’s gaze landed upon Alia for a moment.

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