What Lurks Between the Fates (Of Flesh & Bone, #3)(40)

The Queen of Air and Darkness stepped forward, rounding to the back of my chair. She grasped the fabric of the dress she’d given me, tearing it open at the back until the cold air of the throne room touched my spine from my neck to the small of my back. I turned to look at her over my shoulder, holding perfectly still as she touched a single talon to one of the worst scars on my back.

“It is such a shame for you to be permanently marred by something you could so easily heal if it was done to you now,” she said, drawing a line up to the top of the scar. My skin withered beneath her touch, feeling as if she dragged death itself over my flesh. “I wonder if they will return with your new flesh if I peel the skin from your bones?”

She sliced her claw against the top of the scar, creating a line of fire across my back as the warmth of blood trickled down from the deep wound. I winced, curling forward when she slid two nails inside of the gash, gripping my skin between her fingers and thumb. I couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped or the tear that fell onto my cheek as I clenched my eyes closed.

She dragged my skin down, peeling it in a strip as my flesh tore, her talons slicing whatever skin resisted. The scream died in my throat, trapped there as I froze solid. There was nothing but the pain, nothing but the heat against the muscle and sinew in my back as she took my skin.

She paused for just a moment, a laugh brushing against my ear as she leaned forward. Her lips practically touched my temple, moving as she murmured to me.

“How much more do you think your mate can take before he intervenes and gives me what I want? You refuse because you think it will harm the precious world, but he doesn’t care about the fucking world if it means you must suffer. He would burn it all and every living being within it to the ground if it meant you remained unscathed. You can defy me all you want, Little Mouse. But he will not,” she said, then pulled on my skin so suddenly that it tore down to the small of my back. It hung from my body like a strip before she cut it at the base, tossing it to the side.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at it, turning my gaze away from the strip of skin that belonged on my body. My breath came in ragged gasps, my lungs struggling to breathe past the overwhelming shock of pain. Mab cut her nail across the top of my back once more, and I sobbed as I forced myself not to speak. The cold air burned what remained of my flesh without my skin to act as a barrier.

“Stop,” Caldris said, forcing me to snap my head to him.

I shook mine, muttering an order of my own. “Don’t,” I pleaded, my bottom lip trembling as his face softened. He knew my wishes; knew I would rather suffer than give her anything she could use against me one day.

He closed his eyes, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as he doomed us all.

“Her name is Estrella,” Caldris said, opening his eyes to hold my gaze.

There was no further trace of the shame he must have felt, only his sense of duty in protecting me clouding his judgment. I wanted to condemn him for it, to judge him for what he might have done.

But could I have sat there and watched Mab skin him alive when I could have put an end to it?

Love was our greatest weakness, and Mab had kept Caldris close intentionally.

“Her full name,” Mab said, stepping away from my back. She patted the side of my face as she walked toward her throne, staining my cheek with my own blood.

“Estrella Barlowe,” Caldris conceded, glancing between us.

“And where was she born?” Mab asked, pushing the boundaries of what Caldris would offer.

I realized with a start that she could have just asked him in the first place. That he wouldn’t have been able to deny her the knowledge.

My suffering had been a show, a test to prove whether or not she could allow me free. It had been entirely unnecessary, but Mab enjoyed pain. She’d proven her point.

We were powerless in the face of her.

“Mistfell village, just beyond the Veil,” my mate answered, standing from his chair smoothly. He approached me, stopping instantly when Mab held up a hand. “I gave you what you asked for. Now allow her to heal herself, my Queen.” The words were torn from the deepest parts of him, an appeasement he didn’t want to offer.

Every part of me recoiled from the honorific upon his lips when speaking to someone else. That deep, hollow thing within me rose up, struggling against the ties that bound her still. She thumped against my chest, teeth and claws scratching as if she meant to tear her way out of me.

There was only one person he should be calling his anything, only one woman who should be his queen.

“I should let her rot with her injuries. She did not answer my questions,” Mab said, turning a chastising stare to me. “But I will reward your loyalty, Caldris. I’ll allow her to heal herself, but she will not be permitted to spend the night in your arms. Hopefully, she will respect my kindness and pay it forward tomorrow.”

“I reject your kindness. I want no gifts from you. I know what they’ll cost,” I said, staring at my mate. He’d doom us all with the favors Mab would collect on one day.

“Malachi,” Mab said, ignoring my outburst.

I hung my head forward as the Fae male’s gloved hands touched my left wrist, sliding the key into the lock and twisting. The shackle fell away, hanging from the arm of the chair as I flexed my throbbing fingers. I studied the lines in the stone floor, memorizing the way the cracks rippled across the surface. They spread like tributaries, stemming from one large river until each little crack faded into nothing.