Page 150 of Thorn Season
“I looked into Lady Fiona’s medical history.”
My body twitched—another foolish reaction. But he’d never mentioned my alleged mother before.
He continued, “She was a frail, sickly woman, already in her final months at the time of your birth. She couldn’t have carried a child to term.”
He paused, awaiting confirmation. I kept my face blank.
“So, your father bedded another, then—a Wielder, out of wedlock. According to Daradon’s laws, you never should’ve inherited his seat of power. You certainly never should have been considered for queen.” His voice became a low caress. “Look at the opportunity I’m offering. In Daradon’s history, how many bastard Wielders have worn the crown? Who wouldn’t love to be the first?”
The candlelight flittered, stretching the shadows on the walls. I could hear my pulse-thrum in the silence.
“I’m not your enemy, Alissa. I never have been.Briardid this to you.Briarkilled your father.” His fingers slowly reached for mine, then brushed across my white-clenched knuckles. “What if I let you have her?”
Heat flared up my neck far too quickly. My specter screwed againstthe dullroot and I gritted my teeth, fighting the sensation.
“I could have her delivered to you in chains,” Erik continued. “You could do to her what she did to your father. More, if you’d like.” His hand worked steadily over mine, unclenching my fist and cradling my palm. “I could help you. I could make her suffer in ways you couldn’t imagine.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and Briar was there—writhing, screaming, begging for forgiveness until her agony filled my head and I realized I liked the sound. My specter would rip her apart like the books I’d destroyed in Father’s study. I imagined his claw-foot desk cracked down the middle and wondered how her body would look split in half like that. Would she bleed as much as Father had, or could I make her bleed more?
My skin felt tight, my breathing shallow. I opened my eyes to find Erik smiling at me like he’d already tasted such fantasies and could recognize the desire in my face.
Then I noticed what he held in his other hand. The xerylite ring—the ring I hadn’t touched the entire time I’d been here.
I trembled as Erik brought it to the tip of my engagement finger.
“You hold all the power here, my love,” he whispered. “Let me take you from this place.” He slid the cool silver to my first knuckle. “Let me give you your revenge.”
My head rang, and I felt myself bending far enough to snap. Because Iwantedwhat Erik offered. I wanted Briar’s neck.
No—I wanted herheart.
I swayed forward, and the ring glided to my middle knuckle. Erik held his breath, his hand roaming eagerly toward my wrist—
He grazed the raw skin around my manacle, and pain spiked through my reverie.
I gasped, flinging out my hand. The ring clattered somewhere in the shadows.
I slammed back into my corner with what sounded like a sob.“What do you want from me?”
Erik was flushed from his near-win, breathing almost as heavily as I was. “You know what I want,” he said hoarsely.
“A Wielder pet as your bride?”
He had the gall to look offended. How dare I accuse him of such intentions? He’d only chained me like a dog in a cage.
I opened my mouth to say as much. To run him through with my sharp tongue—the one weapon I’d always possessed.
But as I’d recently learned, silence could be just as powerful a weapon.
So, I huffed a bitter laugh and let my shoulders slump.
“Alissa...” The candlelight outlined the hard contours of his face. Was that a flicker of true apology—true sympathy for the girl he’d imprisoned?
It didn’t matter. In a flash, the look was gone and Erik stood with all the coldness of a huntsman who’d lost his grip on the prey.
“I can abide this delay,” he said, locking the cell behind him. “But I won’t abide a hunger strike.” He nodded toward the tray. “Finish it. Or there’ll be no candle next time.”
I wrapped my hand around the empty water cup and hurled it at the king. But it didn’t ricochet off the bars as I’d expected.
