Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(66)
Picturing Coal scared and alone, I unclenched my fist and relaxed. I did, however, shoot him what I hoped was a clear and immediate warning disguised in refinement.
His gaze grew hard, but he eased off his grip. “Where are you off to, Princess?”
“Just freshening up before the big presentations.” He released my hand, the smug look of triumph irking me more than I could take. With a charmer of a smile I met the gaze of the table. “ And I need to stretch my legs. My ass is fucking numb. You’d think the Queen could spring for chairs with a bit more cush, wouldn’t you?”
I smiled politely as the ladies gasped and the Noble males looked to Zale with sympathy. His Lir-ness excused himself and grabbed my elbow as we made our way to the hall.
“Really?” I said, with a laugh. “What trouble am I going to cause between the dining hall and the ladies’ room?”
He scowled. “I’m just keeping an eye on my investment. You’ve fast become the talk of Attalos and I aim to make sure that works for me, not against.”
There was no sign of the feminine six-pack in the hall and I prayed they were in the washroom. I reached for the handle of the door but he still had a hold on me. “Will I be permitted to piss on my own, or will you be escorting me into my stall?”
He released my elbow and scrubbed at the back of his neck. “You have three minutes before I come in after you.”
The outer powder room was buzzing with primping ladies, but this wasn’t the cluster of bodies I was looking for. As they recognized me, the room silenced to a dead hush. Nice. I pushed into the washroom and cursed. Nothing. There was no one here. Deciding to take advantage of the momentary solitude I used the bathroom and washed up.
The next half-hour was going to be the worst part, standing up in front of a ballroom full of people while they formally announce both Freya and I accept Lord Dirtbag of Knobsbury as our husband. Gods. Save me.
My head began to swim as my skin flushed hot. I bent over the sink and splashed water on my face.
Dining with the Nobles had taught me one thing. When I was married to Zale I’d be in a much better position to change things. The door opened as I patted my face dry and I rolled my eyes.
“The presentations are beginning,” he said. “Time for the performance of your life.”
I swallowed the bit of barf that rose into my mouth and forced a smile. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
Zale held the door open and waited for me to exit. The host’s voice carried from the ballroom into the hall. He was announcing the Eligible allocations. I froze. Could I do this? There had to be another way. I couldn’t stomach the idea of spending one moment alone with this prick.
“Pull yourself together Gracie,” Zale hissed, gesturing to the open door of the ballroom. “Unless you want another piece of your scorch removed. The boy still functions with his tongue cut out, but you never know what I might remove next.
“What? You—”
Zale smiled and waggled his perfectly arched brow. “He’ll never interrupt me again.”
My hands were around his throat before the thought even registered. I swept his feet and held his body pinned beneath mine on the hallway marble. I watched from some detached distance. His olive complexion deepened to red.
“You cut out his tongue?”
How could anyone do such a thing to a little boy? Zale’s eyes widened. His fingers scrabbled at my wrists. As the gods stood witness, I would squeeze the bastard’s last breath out between my palms. “You are so fucking dead. When I get finished with you—”
Strong hands yanked me by the waist and lifted me off Zale’s body. I struggled against the Strati’s hold, massive arms restraining me from behind. The soldier crushed my arms against my chest and pinned them. I tried to head butt him, but he anticipated it. I kicked at his kneecaps, but he shifted and evaded. “Calm yourself, Lexi,” the soldier hissed in my ear. “Be calm.”
Ydorus. I stopped struggling and he loosened his hold. Zale braced his hands on the floor and gasped for air. He looked near death. Shit. What had I done?
The blood pumping hard through my body rushed from my head. Ydorus pulled me tight against his massive chest and kept me from keeling over. Shit. People heard the commotion and were rubbernecking it from the doorway. They’d seen me try to kill Zale. He would go crazy over this.
My soon-to-be husband staggered to his feet, hands curled in fists, thighs engaged as if he were about to spring forward. When he caught sight of our audience he straightened and moved closer. “You’re lucky we’re expected inside,” he whispered, his voice a hoarse croak. “Make no mistake, once you’re mine, you will suffer.” He wrenched my elbow and yanked me toward the door. “Now, paint on a smile or your little bastard can kiss his arms goodbye.”
The next hour passed in a blur of nausea. Images in my head flashed in a never-ending loop of nightmare: Coal being dismembered, Terran missing and bleeding somewhere, me trapped under Zale’s weight and powerless to fight back, Rowan being used as his soul died a little more, Elani being stripped and raped while my mother laughed—
“Stop growling,” Freya said, smiling like a cover model at the dancers on the floor before us. “You are such a freak.”
I grasped the arms of my chair. Was I growling? “Look, I need to get out of here.”