Page 147 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
“Wrong answer.”
“How is that the wrong answer? It’s the truth!” I yelled. “I did kill them! And you, like a fucking coward, stood back and did nothing. You just watched me fight.”
His fist was in my hair, pulling my head so far back I thought my neck would snap.
“I’m not lying!” I shouted.
He tugged harder. “And I’m not a coward. I stood back because it didn’t concern me.”
“Fine. But that’s the truth. Now let me go. I answered your questions. I don’t know where anyone is. I’m only trying to find my sisters. Bring them home. Like everyone else in Bamaria. And if I’m not a prisoner, release me from these ropes. Let me go.”
“I can’t do that. My uncle had you locked up for a reason. We need to keep you safe.”
My chest was squeezing in on itself, my stomach twisting. I was going to throw up. I had nothing in me, and still I was going to be sick.
“Then at least…at least, untie me. Give me a proper place to stay—befitting of a lady of Ka Batavia. With a female attendant.”
Brockton cracked his knuckles. “A female attendant,” he howled, nearly bursting with laughter. “No, I can’t let you go. And I can’t change your room. Not yet. Because you’re right. No one knows you’re here. Or that we’re here. So, I think we’ll take a few days, before we make that announcement. And maybe your bastard will show. And I’ll hand you both over. But in the meantime, you’re going to be family. We should get to know each other better.”
“We?”
There was a knock on the door. And my heart pounded in response.
“We.” Brockton looked me up and down before heading to the entranceway, unlatching the bolt, and admitting three more soturi, the ones who’d been with him when he’d found me.
I’d never spoken to them before, but I recognized their faces. They all had pale skin, blonde hair, and beady black eyes. They were apprentices studying at the Katurium, always following Brockton and Viktor around. Always watching me. And all three had the cruel look of the Bastardmaker.
The arkturion had only ever publicly claimed Brockton as his son. But I would have bet my life the others were his brothers. The mannerisms, the cruelty, those eyes—they were all too similar.
One, I thought was named Brett. He was taller than the others. The second…the second was called Geoffrey. He was the most muscular of them. And the third…his hair was longer in style like the Imperator’s…his name started with a T.
The wolves crowded around me, not speaking but somehow all knowing where to stand, like they had an order for this sort of thing, like they’d done it before, had a practiced ritual.
There was an unmistakable scent in the air. Predatory. Cruel. Hungry.
Aroused.
“Get it out of her yet?” asked Brett.
Fuck. Fuck. All four of them had seen. Had witnessed Rhyan using his vorakh.
“She was just telling me the brave story of how she killed those mean snakes this morning.”
“You saw me kill them,” I said, my voice shaking. “And Rhyan left.”
“Rhyan now?” Brockton purred. “Not Soturion Hart?”
My throat dried. “The point is…” I shook my head. “The point is you know how fast he is. He ran. Not my problem if you weren’t paying enough attention to see him go. Maybe check your eyesight. Because he ran away, and that’s the end of the story.”
Brockton shrugged. “Okay, we’ll play your game. Let’s pretend for one second that you’re not a Godsdamned liar, and your forsworn bastard doesn’t have a vorakh. Why didn’t he come back for you?”
Geoffrey smirked, sharing a look with the third wolf. Trey. That was his name.
“How could he come back for me? You took me! He doesn’t know where I am!”
“We waited,” he said. “We waited some time out there on the mountain, wanting to see what he would do. Whether or not he’d come back. We even went looking for him. Sent wolves to scout. Shouted at him that we had you. That we were taking you prisoner.”
“I thought I wasn’t your prisoner.”
