Chapter 32 #3
The silence that followed was worse than any scream. Eliam stood with his back to her, shoulders rigid with controlled fury. When he finally turned, she almost wished he hadn't.
Gone was any trace of the king who'd danced with her, who'd given her his crown, who'd whispered about feelings he didn't understand. This was the Forest King who'd first claimed her—cold, cruel, and utterly without mercy.
"Please," she managed, the compulsion finally breaking with Malus's departure. "Let me explain—"
"Silence."
He stalked toward her, and she instinctively backed away until she hit the throne.
"You fed my greatest enemy." Each word that passed his lips was precise and controlled. "Gave him strength. Gave him freedom. While wearing my mark. While sharing my bed."
"I didn't know!" The words burst out desperate. She wanted to reach for him, to drop to her knees and beg for his forgiveness, but her body remained frozen in place. "He said he was human—"
His hand shot out, vines following, wrapping around her throat just tight enough to be a warning. The court gasped, some in delight, some in shock.
"You didn't know?" He leaned in close, and she could see the hurt beneath the rage. "You didn't know there were no human prisoners in my dungeons? You didn't think to ask me? To tell me about your charitable visits?"
"I wanted to—"
"Liar." The vines tightened fractionally. "You had magic to hide from me. You snuck through my castle. You kept secrets from me and now my brother is free because of your insufferable bleeding heart."
He released her with a shove and she dropped to her knees, gasping. The circlet tumbled from her head, hitting the floor with a metallic ring that seemed to echo forever.
"Get up."
She struggled to obey, legs shaking. When she reached for the circlet, his boot came down on it, crushing the delicate metalwork and intricately carved wood.
"You don't touch that. You don't touch anything of mine again." He grabbed her arm, hauling her upright, fingers digging into the marks he'd put there. "You were so desperate for freedom? It’s yours."
He dragged her to the center of the ballroom, throwing her down hard enough to bruise. The court circled them now, hungry for the spectacle, eager for what came next.
"I denounce you," he said, voice carrying to every corner. "I cast you out. My protection ends now."
Briar choked back a sob. The warmth in her chest burned in anguish. "Eliam, please—"
"You wanted to save the prisoner? Congratulations. You succeeded." His smile was all sharp edges, but his dark eyes were unreadable. "And now you get to live with the consequences."
She tried to stand, but vines wrapped around her wrists, dragging her back down. The stone floor was cold through her dress. She could feel the court pressing closer, feel their anticipation building. They wanted blood. Her blood.
He crouched beside her, and for a moment she saw something raw flicker in his eyes, a desperate pain that matched her own, but it was quickly swallowed as the cold mask settled back into place.
"I will grant you one last mercy. At dawn, the Wild Hunt begins. You'll have until then to run. To hide. To pray someone finds you, someone that believes you’re worth keeping alive."
The implication made her stomach turn. She knew what happened to hunted humans. Knew what these beautiful, terrible creatures did to their prey. And he was throwing her to them.
"Don't do this." Tears ran down her face, but she didn't care. Pride meant nothing now. "Please. I love—"
"Don't." The word cracked like a whip causing her to flinch as though he’d actually struck her. He stood, stepping back, and the distance between them felt infinite. "You don't get to say that. Not after this."
But she did love him. Despite everything, or perhaps because of everything, she loved this cruel, complex creature who'd shown her tenderness he didn't understand.
Who'd made her a crown because he couldn't name his feelings.
Who was destroying her now because she'd wounded him in the one way he didn’t believe he could forgive.
He turned his back on her, addressing the court. "She is no one. She is nothing. Come dawn, she's prey for any who can catch her."
The vines released her at last, retreating back into the floor. She knelt there in her beautiful dress, surrounded by predators, as Eliam walked towards his throne without so much as a backwards glance. Every step he took away from her felt like another piece of her soul being torn away.
"Run," he said at last, pausing but still not turning to look at her directly. "Run far and fast, little thief. Because when the sun rises, even I won't be able to save you from what follows."
The court parted as she struggled to her feet. She waited, hoping for... something. Mercy. Forgiveness. A sign that what they'd shared had meant anything.
But Eliam settled back on his throne, staring straight ahead, as if she'd already ceased to exist.
So she did as he commanded.
She ran.
Through the ballroom doors, past shocked servants, her beautiful garnet dress catching and tearing on corners as she fled.
The crystal thorns that had been her armor shattered and fell like dark stars in her wake.
Behind her, she could hear the court's laughter rising to follow her.
Their excited planning. Someone was already taking bets on who would catch her first.
Dawn would come too soon.
And when it did, she would be hunted by every fae in the realm. By creatures who saw her as sport, as entertainment, as meat.
The warmth in her chest pulsed wildly, reaching back toward the throne room, toward him. But there was no answer. No reciprocal pull. Whatever connection they'd shared was severed as completely as the circlet he'd crushed.
Just the cold knowledge that she had destroyed everything.
And now she would pay the price.