Scarred (Never After #2)(23)

His working hand flies to my shin, his fingernails trying to claw my flesh through the fabric of my pants. Bending down close to his face, my voice drops to a whisper. “Just a few paltry words, Antony, and all this can be over. Tell me what you saw.”

“Will you… will you let me go?” he cries.

Laughing, I flick the end of my joint, pinpricks of pleasure racing through me as the ashes rain down on his sweaty, snot-filled face. “I promise to let you free.”

“I sa-saw you and the lady.” His words are deformed, the s’s sounding like t’s, and every few seconds he spits more blood at my feet.

I lighten the pressure on his wrist.

“In the windowpane, it… it looked like you were being intimate. Pl-please, please, I beg of you… My Lord.”

A satisfied breath escapes me, a thrill rushing through my veins, even as his words remind me of how stupid and reckless I was.

“I appreciate your honesty.” Walking behind him, my hands slide around his neck and grip just beneath his ears. “And lucky for you, I am a merciful god.” I twist until bones crack and separate. His limp body drops to the ground beneath me, his eyes wide and vacant, a pool of blood forming from where it dribbles out of his mouth.

“Be free, Antony.”

I bring the joint to my lips, puffing one last time before dropping it on his corpse, allowing the lit end to burn through the eye of the lion in the center of his chest, a strange sense of satisfaction weaving through me as I watch it turn to ash.





CHAPTER 13





Sara B.





“I’d like to speak with Uncle Raf,” I say to Xander, who sits across from me as Sheina pins my hair. She’s idly gossiping with Ophelia, who’s crocheting off to the side.

He pushes up his glasses, bringing a thick cigar to his mouth and puffing on the end. The smell of the tobacco is sweet and smoky as it hits my nostrils, and it reminds me of sitting in my father’s study for hours on end while he worked. A pang of homesickness hits the center of my gut, making me long for the sunshine-filled days in Silva.

“I’ll arrange it,” Xander says.

I force a smile. My uncle told me that Xander was my confidant. The one who I could depend on; the ace in the castle. But the longer I’m here, the more distrust replaces the confidence I arrived with.

“Sheina, Ophelia. Leave us,” I say.

Their chatter stops, both of them moving from the room without a word. Ophelia doesn’t look back, but Sheina does, her wide eyes glancing between Xander and me before she spins around and closes the door behind her.

She’s been quieter than usual the past couple of days, and when I watch her retreat, I worry that she’s unhappy here. That if, given the chance, she’d flee back home and leave me surrounded by people I don’t know. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but she’s a comfort to me. A small slice of familiarity in an unknown place.

I cross my hands in my lap as I stare at Xander, allowing the silence to linger long after they’re gone. I may be a woman, but I am not a fool, and I’ll no longer allow him to treat me like I am.

“Cousin,” he starts.

“Do not cousin me, Alexander.”

He stiffens in his chair.

“I’m tired of sitting here as if nothing is happening,” I continue. “Your father told me I could trust you. Can I truly?”

“Sara, please.” He drums his fingers on the wooden arm of the chair. “You’re here because of me. But these things take time, they’re fragile. Delicate.”

My chest tightens. “Time moves a lot slower when you’re used as a prop.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea what has gone into this? What it’s taken to get you here?” The chair creaks as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know it’s difficult to wait, but everything is falling into place. You just need patience.”

“Nothing is happening.” I flick a curl that’s fallen from my face. “How long am I supposed to sit here and pretend I’m happy gossiping with the ladies of court? I want to avenge my father, Xander. Maybe you don’t understand that because you’ve never felt the pain of losing the only one you loved.”

He rolls the cigar between his fingers. “In an hour’s time, you’ll head into the town square with His Majesty, where he’ll dine with you and propose in front of the people. We’ll have an engagement ball.” He pauses. “Everyone will be there.”

My breath whooshes out of me, relief replacing the tension that’s been knotting up my spine. “And then we’ll make a move?”

Xander nods. “Then we’ll make our move.” He cocks his head. “Is there something else going on?”

Now it’s my posture that straightens, flashes of yesterday afternoon flooding into my brain. “What else could be going on? I’m all alone in an enormous castle with nothing but my thoughts and my… trust.”

Xander’s lips purse. “Well, once your betrothal is announced, you’ll be much busier. Etiquette courses and wedding planning, of course.”

My nose scrunches.

“Don’t forget why you’re here, cousin. What this is all for,” he implores, lowering his voice and leaning in. “We must move with precision, not haste.”