Tortured Royals (Game of Psychos #3)

Chapter 25

Chapter

Twenty-Five

~ Princess Blake ~

“ L ooks like we didn’t need Scarlett to convince them after all…” I muse to the others. “But she’ll still be good for the interrogation.”

“We agreed to your terms,” Gloria says, keeping her chin high as she turns back to Ivar. “Why do this?”

“It’s nothing personal,” Ivar replies. “But the witches simply aren’t willing to risk keeping you alive.”

“The witches?” Another leader spits. “What has this got to do with their kind? Tell me you’re not that stupid.”

Ivar’s smile is unsettling. “I had tried to convince them to let you all live,” he admits. “But a change in leadership always comes with a price. And since you refuse to eat your dessert I guess it’s time for plan B.” He pulls a mask from his robe, strapping it over his face, and the Fallon Blade soldiers do the same. The moment they have them on, smoke starts filtering in from the vents on the ceiling.

The clan leaders shout, coughing and wheezing, and the Fallon Blade demons attack.

“Blake!” Prince Callan shouts, and a cool wind whips around my face, preventing the smoke from reaching my mouth and nose. I peer over to see my archangel has done the same for my mates.

“We need to help the clan leaders as well,” I tell him.

One of the Fallon Blade soldiers goes for Gloria who’s the closest to me, but my hand shoots out, grabbing his arm and stopping his blade.

“Out of my way, server,” he snarls.

I pretend to think about it before giving him a wicked smile. “Let’s see, hmmm, no.”

The soldier frowns, his top lip curling, but just as he tries to break free, blood sprays and his head slides from his body. He thuds to the floor, and Alaric stands behind him, a bloodied sword in his hand. “He touched you,” he growls.

“Technically, I’m the one who touched him,” I point out.

“It still counts, princess,” Dante drawls from somewhere close to me.

“Princess?” Gloria says, still wheezing as she stares at me strangely.

I wink at her. “The one and only.”

Prince Callan clears the air, and though the clan leaders are still coughing, they start fighting back.

“All right, let’s get this done,” I tell my mates, and I let my magic rip through my disguise. Power races through my body, flooding my system, and my wings tear through the fabric on my back. My golden tattoos burn bright against my skin, and I breathe in deep, feeling like myself again. Prince Callan is already back in his true form, but Mason follows my lead, accessing his power though he doesn’t shift. Alaric and Nate stay in their disguises, no doubt realizing the dining room is much too small to accommodate them.

“Y-your highness,” Gloria stammers, her eyes filled with horror as she steps away from me, staring at the tattoos on my arms. Her gaze flicks to my mates before going back to me, and she slams to one knee, placing her fist to her chest. “I meant none of what I said, princess. You have my allegiance. Always.”

Around the room, the clan leaders gasp when they see me, and even Ivar’s demons are stunned. The clan leaders kneel, showing their respect. It’s sickening when they were just plotting my downfall, but I’ve long since learned that I don’t need them to love me. For now, fear would have to do, and it’s one thing to agree with Ivar’s plans when they thought I was in another realm, but a different thing entirely when I’m standing before them.

The Fallon Blade soldiers hesitate, confusion written on their faces, but I have no sympathy for them. They might have been following Ivar’s lead, but they’ve still been working with the witches, plotting my father’s assassination and the downfall of the realm.

Never show mercy. Rule number two of being a demon royal. “Kill the soldiers,” I command my mates. Taking out my own blades, the five of us work as one, and it’s not long before Ivar’s soldiers are all down.

“No!” Ivar snarls, his shock soon replaced with simmering hatred as he stares at me. Still holding his knives, he backs away, but Prince Callan sends out a burst of air, slamming the clan leader against the wall. His knives are knocked from his hands, and Alaric advances, pressing his forearm against Ivar’s throat. Prince Callan keeps his power there, but Alaric stays where he is, his top lip curled as he glares at the demon.

Ivar doesn’t struggle. He just starts frantically whispering to himself.

The clan leaders stay where they are, but they watch me fearfully. I walk over to where Scyro’s horns are still on the table, and I pick one up, throwing it to one of the clan leaders. He fumbles for it, and his face pales as he struggles to catch it, and it falls with a clatter to the floor.

“This is what Ivar intended for you. This is your reward for your loyalty,” I say, my voice hard and unforgiving. “Death by witch poison, and a future where your clans will be enslaved by the witches or dead.”

“He’s a bastard!” Another clan leader yells, but the moment my gaze goes to him, he silences.

“I know what Ivar offered you,” I continue. “A say in the matters regarding the ruling of the kingdom, and a chance to be part of the royal council. The clans were created for the demons, but when I’m queen, I invite you all to say your peace on how you believe our realm should change. But first, we need to defeat the witches. We need to protect what’s ours and band together or the demons will fall. As clan leaders, you need to rally your soldiers so we can face this war as one. I heard your scheming. This is your one chance to redeem yourselves, or deny me, and face the consequences.”

“We barely survived a war with the witches the last time, and rumor has it that King Dalton isn’t the demon he used to be,” Gloria says. “You weren’t alive during the great war, but I was. What makes you so sure we can win this time?”

“I’m not,” I admit. “But if we do nothing then we know what the outcome will be. And if it weren’t for me and my mates, you’d be dead right now. I’m not prepared to go down without a fight, and I’m hoping you aren’t either.” I look at them hard. “Or was I wrong to spare you? Are you ready to end it now?”

The clan leaders are silent for a moment, but Gloria is the first to rise to her feet. She straightens her spine, and the other clan leaders follow her.

“My clan will answer your call, your highness,” Gloria tells me.

A few of the other clan leaders send furtive glances in Ivar’s direction, but soon, all of the clan leaders are pledging their allegiance to me as well. Everyone, that is, except Ivar.

“You’re fools,” Ivar growls, no longer muttering to himself. “We won’t be able to defeat the witches this time. By allying with them, the witches had agreed to spare the demons.”

“What demons?” I say, jerking my head toward Ivar. “The clan leaders you tried to poison in this room, or the ones who are yet to die on the battlefield?”

“Sometimes you have to sacrifice a few to save the many,” Ivar says coldly. “Of all demons, I thought you would understand that.”

“Except you weren’t plannin’ to save anythin’ except your own ass,” Nate comments.

“Return to your clans,” I command the clan leaders. “And prepare your soldiers. The witches may attack any day now. You’ll hear the war siren when the time has come.”

“Yes, your highness,” the clan leaders chant in unison, sparing Ivar a last glance and filing out of the room, heading into the upper part of the house.

When the last clan leader is gone, my mates and I move closer to Ivar.

“You think this means something, half-blood?” Ivar snarls, still pinned to the wall. Blood trails from his head, dripping past his right eye. “Those demons turned on you the moment you were out of the realm. I was the demons only chance to avoid annihilation.”

I snort. “Even I know you’re not stupid enough to believe that, Ivar. It starts with the witches ordering you to kill the clan leaders, and it ends with all of us turned to ash.”

“You’re wrong,” Ivar rasps.

“The witches only wanted you to help them locate the power in the castle,” I tell him. “And for you to cripple the demon clans so we’re weakened and easier to defeat. Did you really think they’d let you take the throne and rule?”

“They don’t want this land,” Ivar replies. “All they want is what’s theirs. What the king took from them.”

“And did it even occur to you, that once they have it, they may simply lay waste to the rest of us? That whatever King Dalton took, he probably did so for a reason. That it might be a weapon, or a power that may make them unstoppable?”

“We would be allies,” Ivar says.

I scoff. “You’re not that naive. And what do you think will happen when the witches discover you’ve failed to kill the clan leaders?”

There’s a flicker of fear in Ivar’s eyes, but he blinks, and it’s gone again.

“Tell us everything you know about the witches, and the demons might actually survive what’s to come,” I say.

“I have nothing for a bastard princess,” Ivar snarls, and he spits at me. I dodge to the side, avoiding his spit, and Alaric slams his fist into the demon’s gut with his free hand. Ivar coughs, blood trailing from the corner of his mouth.

“Have it your way, then,” I tell Ivar.

“Shade, are you guys outside?” I send to my crow. “We’re in a private dining hall down a series of steps. Nate will meet you at the top of the stairs.”

There’s a pause before she answers. “Got it. We’ll be there soon.”

I share a look with Nate, and he nods, bounding from the room.

In no time at all, Nate is returning with Scarlett and her three protective demon mates—Tanner, Zachary, and Ezra, the leaders of the Nightfire clan. I’m not surprised Ivar didn’t involve the Nightfire clan in his schemes. Scarlett is a truth teller, and she wouldn’t have been an asset to keep around.

I eye where Shade is perched on Zachary’s head, standing in his red hair.

“What are you doing?” I ask her.

“Hitching a ride?” she replies innocently.

“I think what my mate means, is why are you on the demon’s head?” Mason says.

Shade flutters her wings. “Oh, that. I’m, you know, asserting my dominance.”

“What dominance?” Nate says with wry amusement.

Shade lets out an exasperated sigh. “The point is, I brought them here. Ta-da!” She flies from Zachary’s head, and I can see the relief in his eyes as she comes to land on my shoulder.

Her gaze sweeps the room, and she makes a noise in my head. “Looks like you guys have been busy redecorating.”

Before I can respond, Scarlett steps forward meekly and bows her head, lifting a fist to her chest. “Princess. I am at your service.”

From the grave expressions of her mates, it’s obvious they’re unhappy that I’ve summoned her, and I can respect that. They crowd close to their mate, looking like they’re ready to fight anyone to protect her. It makes me like them just a little bit more than I already did.

“Thank you for coming. I wouldn’t have asked if the situation wasn’t critical.” I gesture with my head toward Ivar. “We need you to get information out of him.”

Scarlett’s gaze goes to Ivar, and he finally starts to struggle. Prince Callan’s air power keeps the clan leader pressed against the wall, and Alaric lifts a dagger to Ivar’s throat.

“She’s only just learned of her power,” Tanner interjects, his voice gruff. “You can’t expect her to?—”

“If there was another option, I would have used it,” I interrupt. “I get it. You’re worried about your mate. But if we don’t find out the information we need, you can say goodbye to Seral and everyone in it. The witches are coming, and this… traitor knows more than he’s willing to share.”

At the mention of the witches, Scarlett trembles, and Tanner’s brows form a hard line.

“We don’t have time to waste, and Scarlett’s the only one who can help us extract the truth from him,” I add.

“You think the witches are going to wage war on us?” Scarlett asks.

“It’s only a question of ‘when’,” Dante says, coming back into view beside me.

Fear touches Scarlett’s eyes. “Do you think this is part of what my brother, Jace, was involved in?”

I think of her sadistic brother who betrayed her and who’s currently rotting in the dungeons under the palace. He’s still alive, not that Scarlett asked. She takes a deep breath like she’s gathering her strength. “All right. Let’s see what Ivar has to say.”

She positions herself in front of the Fallon Blade clan leader, with only a couple paces between them.

“How does this work?” Prince Callan asks.

“Tell me it hurts,” Alaric growls.

Scarlett ignores them and holds out her right hand. Closing her eyes, she concentrates and a kernel of light forms on her palm.

“We’re right here, Scarlett,” Zachary says to her, staying by her side.

Opening her eyes, Scarlett directs her magic forward, and a thread reaches out from her palm, the tendril curling around Ivar’s waist and tying them together.

“This won’t help you,” Ivar snarls, struggling against my mates.

“Ask your questions,” Scarlett says, her voice slightly warped as gold shines in her eyes.

I pin Ivar with my gaze. “Tell us the witches’ plans? How large are their forces?”

Ivar sneers. “Fuck you.”

Scarlett sends out another burst of power, and the golden thread around the demon’s waist shines brighter. His words die off as he makes a choking, gasping sound. His face goes red, his eyes bulging, and his next words come out in a rush. “I don’t know their full numbers. Maybe hundreds? Maybe thousands? They wanted the demons to bolster their ranks and aid in the attack.”

“What weapons do they have?” Prince Callan asks. “Your warehouse. Are there more like it in Seral?”

Ivar lets out a strangled laugh and shakes his head like he’s trying to release Scarlett’s hold on him, but the thread around his waist remains tight, the bands of light holding steadfast.

He lets out a choked sound, like his next words are being ripped from his throat. “Those weapons were gifts given to me in good faith. To arm the demons when the time came. None of those were meant for the witches. They’re not what you need to worry about.”

“So what do we need to worry about?”

Ivar shakes his head again. “The questions you aren’t asking.”

What?

“He’s useless,” Alaric growls. “The witches wouldn’t have divulged all their plans to him. They would have known he might get compromised. Let me end him.”

“Not yet,” I say.

I give Scarlett a look and she nods her head, sending another burst of magic through to Ivar.

Ivar grits his teeth, seething at the strength of her influence.

“You must know something,” I say. “What is the power in the castle? You must have been curious why they want it so badly.”

He clenches his teeth, but he can’t stop the words from spilling free. “All I know is that the power isn’t a what, it’s a who. And now that the witches know where the vault is, there’s no stopping them.”

My brows slam down. “What?”

“Exactly what I said,” Ivar grits out. “The power isn’t an object. It’s some kind of sentient—” Ivar doesn’t finish. His eyes flash green, and Scarlett whimpers, her face contorting with pain.

“Let him go!” Tanner shouts at Scarlett, and she releases her power, sagging into his arms as Ivar’s lips curve into an unnatural smile.

Prince Callan and Alaric keep their hold on Ivar, but Prince Callan curses, as Ivar’s head moves, his gaze taking in the destruction around us.

Except, even before Ivar speaks next, I know it’s not really the Fallon Blade demon before us anymore.

I think of Ivar’s last words and the vault. Of the door that never opens. Except…except when the king went to visit.

“I had a feeling you would stop him,” a deep feminine voice comes from between Ivar’s lips. Instantly, I recognize the voice of the witch we’d encountered in the warehouse.

Mason, Dante, and Nate grip their weapons tighter, scanning the room for any signs of a portal.

“And yet, you still ordered him to take out the clan leaders,” I point out.

“It’s better if the demons are fighting each other. Then we don’t have to worry about them fighting us,” the witch muses.

My brow creases. “Except your plan has failed. The demons will rally against you, and we’ll defeat you like the last time you were here.”

“Is that so?” Ivar’s smile is a creepy slash across his face. “You truly have no idea, do you half-breed?”

I purse my lips. “Then how about you enlighten me?”

“They’ll reveal themselves soon enough. For now, I had to make sure this spineless weasel didn’t divulge too much. I must say, I don’t remember there being a truth-teller in these lands.”

Scarlett shies away, and her mates stand in front of her.

“They? Who are you talking about?” I insist.

“See you soon, your highness,” that strange voice hisses from between Ivar’s lips, and then the green disappears from Ivar’s eyes. The demon starts convulsing, his body shuddering violently.

“Help me!” Ivar lets out a broken cry, his voice no longer that of the witch, but of the demon leader.

“No! He was supposed to die by my blade,” Alaric growls, but Ivar’s convulsing increases, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. And then, the demon leader falls silent. Prince Callan and Alaric release him, letting his lifeless body fall to the floor.

“I had hoped to make him suffer,” Alaric grumbles. “Here, let me have that.” He grabs Dante’s sword, and with a single blow, he severs Ivar’s head from his body.

“I think he was already dead,” Dante drawls.

Alaric shrugs. “Now we can be sure.”

We all stare down at the clan leader.

“What do you think Ivar was talking about?” Prince Callan asks. “A sentient being?”

Nate’s face is hard. “You think it’s some kind of beast that’s been captured and is being kept in the castle?”

I rack my brain trying to think of everything I know of the war with the witches. Of everything Dad has told me, but he’s never mentioned that there might be something alive behind the black door.

“We need to get to the castle,” I say simply. “Whatever it is, the witches are coming for it. And it’s time Dad answered some questions.”