Page 143 of A Taste of Torment
A roar of wild rage rips from Jarron’s demon form, but then Mr. Vandozer slams the blunt side of the sword down, and the monstrous beast slumps to the ground, limp.No.
My whole body is shaking uncontrollably now.
Mr. Vandozer is laughing, covered in Jarron’s blood.
Keep it together. Please,I beg myself.
Even if the potion fades, he can’t help either of us if he’s unconscious. I clench my hands into fists. Hope. I can only focus on hope. Maybe it’s useless. Maybe we already lost. But that won’t stop me from fighting.
Determination overrides the pain of my shattering heart. Stall. Get information. Two birds, one stone.
“Chosen?” I force the question from my hoarse throat. I’m sure he can see the panic written all over my face now.
“You know what it means, don’t you? Bea told you all about how demon males choose their mates.” He smiles, heinous and horrifying. The light of victory shining in his terrifyingly black eyes. “Jarron chose his mate long ago. Didn’t you ever wonder why he stalked her during his first shift on this planet?”
My stomach squeezes, and I swear I might throw up. I press my eyes closed, but that doesn’t stop the tears from welling.
Mr. Vandozer’s hand wraps around Jarron’s throat and tugs him up. His body is entirely limp. “Pathetic prince,” Mr. Vandozer murmurs.
Jarron gurgles out a quiet growl.
“Let him go,” I demand with more strength than I even knew I had. “It’s me you want, right?”
Mr. Vandozer drops Jarron, and he crumples into a heap, splashing blood toward me. My. Vandozer stands, predatory eyes pinned on his prey. How long has it been now? It feels like hours. It’s probably been minutes.
“Yes, you’re right. Now, it’s your turn, Candice. The second-choice sister.”
I flinch.
“That hurts, doesn’t it? To know it was never you. Never the one anyone ever wants. Not really. You’ll do, sure, but in the back of everyone’s mind, they wish you were her. They wish it was you that died instead of Liz. She was the better sister. The stronger sister. The smarter sister. Your parents would have chosen Liz over you. Yourfriends.” His gaze flicks to Jarron’s form as he tries to rise but falls back on the ground. Mr. Vandozer winks at me.
“Enough,” the magical voice demands. “The contract now.”
A piece of paper forms a few feet in front of me. A pen falls to the turf in front of my knees. My heart races. If I sign, there’s no going back. I’ll have to fight. I’ll have to kill Corrine and Dominic and Bernard and Herald to survive.
Time. I need more time.
I stare pathetically at the pen.
Mr. Vandozer drops to his knees beside the unconscious winged beast, dagger in hand and a look of determination on his face. Jarron is now completely visible. His skin is slate grey with scattered black scales. I try to ignore the claws and horns and the wings tucked against his back. There’s a gaping wound through his stomach. He’s covered in his own blood, and his breaths are shallow. I clench my jaw.
Mr. Vandozer presses the dagger to Jarron’s jugular. “Play along, baby girl.”
I gag. “If you kill him,” I pant, “Trevor will just become the next king. What does it even solve?”
“Oh, sweet child. Don’t you think that might beentirelythe point.”
My mouth falls open. “Trevor,” I whisper. “Trevor is in on this? He wants to be king that bad?” My last hope crumples. Jarron is unconscious—for who knows how long. Trevor isn’t coming.
I know Jarron and Trevor were brothers in competition. I knew Trevor wanted the crown. But part of me still expected him to come. Did Trevor choose the crown over his brother’s life?
“We didn’t set out to kill Jarron, just weaken him. Discredit him. Prove that his chosen rejected him.” Mr. Vandozer’s lips curl higher, his smile sickeningly smug. “She chose someone else. Chose death over being with him. It doesn’t sound like much to a human, but to us, it’s everything. The ultimate failure.”
Anger pools in my belly, rage running so deep I know I must be broken. But this rage is strange because… it’s not for me. It’s for him.
“But well, killing him is a more finite plan. Trevor may feel differently, but I rather like it. We have you to thank for this, Candice. And I can lay the blame right at your little human feet which is just—” he puts his fingers to his lips and gives a chefs kiss.
I’d cringe if I wasn’t so panicked.
