Chapter 6 #2
Finally, inevitably, Malus's attention settled on her. His smile widened, and her body remembered—the grip of his hand on her wrist, the strength that had bent iron bars, the violation of his magic forced down her throat.
"Lady Briar. Or should I say—" He paused, savoring the moment like wine. "Queen? Though I suppose the title was never quite official, was it? How awkward, to be cast out before the crown was even properly placed."
Briar felt her heart lodge itself in her throat. Queen. Beside her, she felt Arion go rigid. Sian drew in a sharp breath. When she looked she saw them staring, seeing her differently. Not just Eliam's pet or prisoner, but someone who'd been chosen for more.
The shame burned through her chest. She'd wanted it. God help her, she'd wanted to be Eliam's queen, had chosen to stay for it.
And a foolish, traitorous part of her still wanted it. Wanted to hear him whisper the words she had once resented. You’re mine.
"What game are you playing at," Arion asked, but uncertainty threaded through his voice.
"Game? No games. If you don’t believe me," Malus tilted his head, "then ask her. Ask her what my dear brother promised before his tantrum. Ask the huntsman—he knows. Don't you, Thaine?"
Arion’s fingers tightened where they still grasped hers and she wasn’t sure who he was angry with—Malus for his taunts, or her for what he would undoubtedly see as a betrayal.
Briar's throat closed around any possible response. How could she explain? That she'd been ready to stand beside the Forest King? That she'd chosen the darkness he offered? The words wouldn't come, trapped behind shame and grief for something that would never be.
"I'm not here to bring harm to anyone," Malus continued, as if discussing the weather.
"Well, beyond those unfortunate guards, but they were rather insistent about proper channels.
" He straightened his cuffs with practiced ease.
"I'm simply here to collect what my brother so carelessly discarded.
The Hunt isn't over until dawn, after all. Her highness is still fair game.” His eyes gleamed. “Laws are laws."
"The Hunt applies to the Forest Court," Halian said, but his voice shook slightly.
"The Hunt," Malus corrected, his tone edged with thinly veiled annoyance, "applies to any unclaimed prey. And since my brother publicly cast her out..." He spread his hands as if the conclusion was obvious.
The word 'prey' made her stomach turn. After everything that had happened, after surviving the forest, after Karse's protection, after thinking she might be safe, in the end she was still seen as quarry to be claimed.
"She has sanctuary here," Arion stepped partially in front of her, his light growing brighter. The protective gesture should have been comforting. Instead, it made her feel like a child being shielded, incapable of standing on her own.
"Sanctuary." Malus tested the word, amused. "From other hunters, perhaps. But I'm not exactly a hunter, am I?"
His eyes found hers again, and something knowing flickered in them.
He stepped closer. "You could come willingly, you know.
Spare everyone the unpleasantness." His smile sharpened.
"After all, it was you who fed me. You who gave me strength when I had resigned myself to eternity in the dark.
" The words were almost exactly what he'd said in the dungeons, but twisted now, made public.
"And I did promise I would thank you properly when the time was right. "
"She's not going anywhere with you," Arion said.
"No? How fascinating that you believe your own words to be true.
" Malus's tone remained light, conversational.
“You see, choice is an illusion given by those in positions of power. The only choice any of you have in this matter is how many of you die before I get what I want, and I will get it. So tell me, brightling, are the lives of your people worth protecting one human?”
The question hung in the air, barbed with truth. They were all doing it—Arion shielding her, Thaine expecting her to return, Malus claiming her as payment for a debt she'd never agreed to. Even now, they talked over her, about her, around her. As if her wants were secondary to their decisions.
Frederick shifted against her neck, hidden beneath her hair, responding to her rising anger. The tiny comfort of that small, chosen connection was the only thing keeping her from screaming at all of them.
"You should tend to that one," a familiar voice observed from the ruined gates. "His shoulder's completely dislocated. Probably the leg too, though that might just be the vines."
Karse strolled through the destroyed entrance, stepping over a groaning guard with the same casual indifference someone might show to fallen branches.
His appearance had changed since the forest—he wore dark clothing that looked stolen from someone with better taste, and his shaggy black hair caught the dying light in ways that revealed those patches of iridescent scales along his neck and jaw.
His reptilian eyes swept the courtyard, taking in the scene with mild interest. They lingered on the Withered for a moment. "Hm, creative," he said, before his gaze settled on Malus.
"Another fae lord trying to take what isn't his." Karse's tone carried the weary annoyance of someone who'd had this conversation too many times. "You all really can't help yourselves, can you? Like magpies with opposable thumbs."
Malus's copper hair seemed to flame brighter in the growing dusk. "And what are you supposed to be?"
"The one who got here first." Karse walked past him as if he weren't surrounded by creatures of rot and decay, past Arion's defensive light, past Thaine's coiled readiness. He stopped directly in front of Briar and his fingers locking around her wrist, already turning to walk. She didn’t try to pull away, too surprised to see him, but she didn't follow either.
He stopped, looking back over his shoulder.
"Aren't you exhausted by all this yet?" Karse gestured vaguely at the assembled fae with his free hand. "They'll keep talking about you like furniture until dawn. You have capable legs. You should use them."
"She's not going anywhere—" Arion started.
"With you," Thaine finished, though clearly meaning something different.
Karse sighed, making no move to relinquish his hold on Briar's wrist as he turned to face them.
"I really don't want to have to kill you all.
It's messy, and—" He glanced at Briar, his head tilting slightly.
"You look like a crier. Are you going to cry if I burn them? Because that would be tedious."
The casual way he discussed multiple murder while worrying about her emotional response made her head spin. Before she could formulate any kind of answer, Malus's patience finally snapped.
"Enough."
The quiet command came out quiet, decisive.
The Withered moved as one, their stillness breaking into motion that was wrong, unnaturally fluid and far too synchronized.
They spread out in a circle, antlered masks turning toward different targets.
The smell of decay intensified, and where their robes brushed the ground, the grass withered and died.
"Kill the Drak," Malus said, already moving toward Briar. "Disable the others."
White-blue flame erupted from Karse's free hand, hot enough that Briar felt her skin tighten from proximity. "Finally. I was getting bored."
He pushed Briar behind him, and the others instinctively closed ranks—Arion's light flaring into a protective barrier, Thaine positioning himself at her left despite having no weapon, Sian at her right with water already gathering. For a moment, they formed a unified defense around her.
Then the Withered struck from multiple directions at once.
The formation shattered instantly. A creature lunged at Thaine, forcing him to roll away and grab a decorative spear from the wall.
Another came at Sian from the side, making her pivot and lash out with water whips.
Halian had to dodge backward, hands moving in complex patterns to call on what remained of the Star Court's wards.
Karse held position longest, flames roaring, but even he had to move when two Withered converged on him from opposite angles.
And through it all, Malus walked calmly toward Briar, autumn magic pooling around his fingers.
"Now then," he said, as chaos erupted around them, "we have much to discuss, you and I."
The warmth in her chest contracted so violently she gasped, responding to threats from every direction—Eliam's brother approaching with patient malice, the defenders being pulled away from her, and something else, something building that felt like thorns trying to grow from inside her bones.
She watched Arion trying to return to her, but a Withered's fingers brushed his light barrier's edge. Where they touched, the light itself seemed to rot, turning gray and crumbling like ash. He stumbled back, eyes wide with shock.
"Don't let them touch you!" Sian shouted, whipping water at another creature. The liquid struck its mask, but instead of flowing over it, the water blackened and fell as putrid sludge.
Karse laughed as he sent a torrent of white-blue flame at the Withered approaching him. The fire consumed its robes, but the thing kept coming, bones or wood or whatever else comprised its frame still moving despite being wreathed in flames.
Through it all, Malus continued his approach, steps casual.
"Such chaos," he said, stepping around Thaine as he rolled away from grasping, decay-touched fingers. "All this fuss over one human girl. You have quite a talent for garnering loyalty. Unfortunately, it won’t be enough to save you."
Briar backed away, her heart hammering. The warmth in her chest pulsed erratically, responding to threats from every direction. She could see Arion still trying to reach her, but a Withered blocked his path, forcing him to retreat and avoid that terrible touch.