Scarred (Never After #2)(55)

But then another set of footsteps sound, and a gift is given when I see Claudius’s grimacing face as he runs down the hall toward me.

My hand snakes out before my mind can even process it’s happened, my rings cutting into the skin of my fingers as I grip his neck, dragging him into me, his back slamming into my front.

He gurgles from my grasp, but my palm slaps his mouth, my hand pinching his windpipe, feeling the muscle crunch beneath my touch.

“Shh, don’t be afraid,” I murmur.

I move my palm away from his lips and reach up, tilting my great-grandfather’s portrait to the side, the wall disappearing from behind me. I sink into the entrance of the tunnels, pulling a squirming Claudius with me.

Once the wall slots back into place, I spin us around, tossing him to the ground, reveling in the sound of his skull cracking on the hard stone floor. Blood splatters from the impact, and he groans, rolling onto his back, his hands coming up to grasp at his head.

Anger percolates in the base of my stomach, and I try to tamp it down, closing my eyes and breathing deep. He moves to stand, his arm shaking as he pushes himself off the ground, and I step forward until I’m hovering over his torso, the thick base of my boot pressing into his chest and shoving him back down.

“Oh, Claudius,” I tsk, bringing a joint from behind my ear and biting the end with my teeth while I dig in my pocket for a match. I fish one out of the box and strike it against the side, the sound loud in the cramped space.

Crouching down as I inhale, I let the sweet tang of hash sit on my tongue. “What shall I do with you?”

He groans, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

I strike him against the face so hard my hand tingles. “No passing out. Stand up and come with me.”

His brows draw in. “No.”

Reaching out, I grip his arm and pull him to a stand, bending it at a ninety-degree angle. His knees buckle, but I hold him upright. “It wasn’t a choice.”

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, fueling my strength as I half carry him through the tunnels and into the dark forest until we reach my cabin in the woods.

There’s no light on the path, but I’ve traversed it so many times I know it by heart, so the trip is quick. I kick open the door, leaving a dusty imprint from the bottom of my boot and toss Claudius inside, his body slamming against the worn wood of the floor. The joint hangs from my mouth as I twist to face him, narrowing my gaze.

“You’ve always been a very naughty boy, Claudius. But I don’t think I can let this one go.”

I pluck the hash from my mouth and place it in the ashtray on the small oval table that sits to my right before walking over to him. He’s pushing himself to a sitting position, blood dripping down the back of his head and onto his neck, the thin gash from where Sara cut into his throat already having scabbed over and dried.

“Your… your brother will… hear about this,” he mumbles, his words slow and slurred.

I sigh, blowing out a breath until my cheeks puff. “You’ve always underestimated me.”

He scoffs.

“It’s fine.” I wave my hand, walking toward the cupboards where I keep all the tools used for maintenance on the cabin. “I’m used to it. The world underestimates me, and it will be their downfall, as surely as it will be yours.”

I grab what I need before twisting back around and taking slow and steady steps toward him. His head lolls to the side and his body sinks, falling from where he was leaning on his elbows and dropping back down to the floor.

“Oh no,” I tsk, twirling the hammer around in my hand. “Don’t tell me you’re about to lose consciousness. We’re just about to get to the fun part.”

Smiling, I stop when I’m next to his head, bending and smacking him again, irritation squeezing my center at the fact he thinks he can pass out, and not experience every single iota of pain that I’m going to cause him.

His eyes snap open and once again, he tries to jerk upright.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I walk around his body and crouch down to hover above his kneecaps, one leg on either side of his body. “Do you know why you’re here with me, Claudius?”

“Because you’re insane?” He lifts his head and spits at my feet. “I am the Baron of Sulta, and your brother’s friend. You cannot do this and get away with it,” he forces out.

“Oooh.” I grin. “I’m shaking in fear.”

“You’re unhinged!” he screeches.

“So they say.” My smile drops and I lift the hammer. “But I am also your prince, and I do as I please.”

I bring the mallet down, his loud scream piercing through the air, drowning out the sound of his kneecap shattering.

“Yeah.” I scrunch my nose, satisfaction collecting in the base of my spine and trickling outward. “I bet that hurt.”

Sighing, I allow the sharp edge on the back of the hammer to skim across the top of his intact bones. “You’re here because you touched something that wasn’t meant for you.”

“You’re insane.”

Lifting the hammer, I use it to scratch the corner of my forehead. “Speaking of my mental health, I cannot stand leaving things uneven.”

His head droops to the side.

“It drives me mad.” I rest the blunt edge of the metal against his knee. “Makes me itch. Are you ever like that?”