Chapter 14
Brax
It's all happening too fast. Valentina's still shaken from the confessions, indicting Ulrich and his wife Jytte as the culprits behind Fiona's assassination attempts.
I offer, "I never liked either of them, nor did I trust them."
"They're members of the Royal Council," she reminds me.
"So what? They're snakes, and you trust too easily," I declare, then add, "They need to die."
"We better get there in time," she frets.
My stomach flips. As soon as we discovered that Ulrich and Jytte were behind everything, we got text messages telling us to head to the arena. We were only on the plane for an hour when Sergio texted Valentina that they had taken Kirill. And then Sean called to say they kidnapped Fiona, too.
Time drags until the wheels of the jet finally descend. The wheels hit the ground and we both jump out of our seats.
"Move," I bark at the flight attendant who stands in the aisle. I grab Valentina's wrist and pull her toward the door.
We hit the corridor at a full sprint. The light flickers in the wall sconces, and muffled chants vibrate through the walls.
We turn the final corner. The massive arena doors loom a few hundred yards away. Valentina stays a half step ahead, her red dress ripped at the slit, curls flying behind her like a furious banner snapping through a storm.
By the time we reach them, my lungs burn.
She slams the door open, and it crashes against the wall.
The world on the other side punches me in the chest so hard I can't breathe.
Torches slam in unison against the stone floor, a heavy, punishing thud that vibrates straight into my ribs.
Hundreds of voices chant in a dark, guttural rhythm, each syllable rolling through the air like an ancient curse.
Fire lunges upward from bonfires surrounding the stage, smoke spiraling toward the massive ceiling of the underground arena.
Two guillotines sit at the center of it all.
Kirill and Fiona are locked into them, naked from the waist up, throats pressed into carved wooden grooves.
The polished blades hang over their heads, catching firelight as they wait to drop.
Knights flank them with swords held high.
The crowd hisses and moans, hungry for royal blood.
Ulrich raises his arm, mid-sentence, voice booming like he's about to deliver holy judgment. "By the power vested in me by the Omni—"
"Stop!" Valentina's voice tears through the noise.
My body snaps into fight mode. I roar over her, "We have proof!"
Torches freeze mid-strike. The pounding stops. The chanting collapses into a shock-filled silence that buzzes inside my brain.
Hundreds of skull-masked faces whip toward us.
Kirill jerks his head as far as the wood allows him. Fiona's terrified eyes lock onto Valentina. Tears streak her cheeks. Her hair tangles around her tiara. They're both seconds from death, and explosions of rage detonate through my chest.
I take the stairs two at a time, leaping onto the stage. Knights shift at the edges, but I ignore them. Heat from the bonfires slams up at me, thick with smoke, sweat, and panic.
"Stand back or you will be next!" Ulrich bellows.
"We have proof," I snarl, cutting across the sacrificial deck. I slam my shoulder into the executioner near Fiona and shove him off the platform.
He staggers, catches himself on his hands, and stares at me through his mask.
Across the stage, another executioner reaches for the release by Kirill, but he never touches it. Sean appears like a weapon unleashed and crashes into him, knocking the guy across the blood-splattered boards. He snaps, "Get the fuck away from the king."
The crowd explodes in hissing and shrieks. Firelight twists over skull masks and white satin gowns, turning the arena into a fever dream filled with demons.
Zara's voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and regal. "I declare an Act of Betrayal! Jytte and Ulrich Koch, you are hereby condemned!"
Every head swings toward her.
Jytte chokes on her breath. "You can't do that!"
Zara marches toward the stage with lethal precision. "I am the successor queen. I can, and I will."
Ulrich jabs a finger at Sean. "They're lying to protect his sister!"
"We're not. We have proof," Valentina insists, moving toward Devika, an Indian woman on the Royal Council.
Ulrich snaps his chin at the executioners. "Get in position!"
I place myself in front of Fiona's neck, blocking the guillotine's drop point. My voice lowers into the threat I only use when I mean to end someone. "Step closer, and I'll choke the air out of you."
Sean growls across the stage, "Same."
"Knights, get into position. We have an act of hostility upon us!" Jytte commands.
Swords rise. Boots shuffle. The heat at my back intensifies as the bonfires swell, flames licking at the air.
Devika says in an impossibly calm tone, "No one moves."
"We have confessions that these two plotted to overthrow Kirill and Fiona. It's all here," Valentina says, pulling out her phone and clicking on a video.
Devika takes the phone. She hits play.
Screams blast across the arena.
My voice demands, "Tell me who paid you to kill the queen!"
More screams, wet gurgles, and crackling sobs echo the arena.
Valentina's voice follows, lethal and steady. "Speak, or I'm taking another finger."
The video goes on and on.
Devika turns it off.
"There's more on there. You're missing the best part," I point out.
She shoots me a death glare.
Valentina faces the Omni. "There are two other men on video. They all say the same thing."
Phones begin dinging everywhere. A cascade of chimes echoes through the arena.
Sean lifts his. "That's everyone's inbox. Brax and I hacked into Ulrich and Jytte's private chats. Everything is documented."
"He's lying!" Jytte shrieks.
A roar rises from the audience. "Free our Majesties! Free our Majesties!"
The knights circle Ulrich and Jytte.
Sean moves first, kicking bolts loose on Kirill's guillotine. I reach down, unlatch Fiona's, and yank the heavy wood up. It resists me for half a second before the mechanism snaps open.
Fiona gasps and jerks backward, hands flying to her throat. I grip her shoulder, grounding her. "You're okay. I've got you."
Sean frees Kirill, who immediately yanks Fiona to him, shielding her body with his. His eyes burn with a fury that could level kingdoms. He orders, "Bring the queen her royal robe! Now!"
An Omni scrambles with folded fabric. I step back as Kirill wraps Fiona in her robe with trembling hands. He dons his own and plants himself between his wife and every threat in the arena.
He points at Ulrich and Jytte. They're pale, sweating, and surrounded by knights who now understand exactly where their loyalty belongs. Kirill roars, "The only ritual we complete tonight is the Black Veil."
A collective gasp surges through the crowd.
Metal poles roll out. Nooses swing above flames. A bridal gown and tuxedo appear.
"Get dressed," Kirill commands.
Jytte buckles. Ulrich spits excuses. No one listens.
Zara pins a rose on Ulrich. Valentina shoves a blood-red bouquet into Jytte's trembling hands and orders her to hold it. When the thorns dig into her palms, she screams, and Valentina binds her fingers with wire until blood runs down the stems.
My cock hardens.
That's my Minx.
Sean and I place the nooses around their necks. Ropes get secured under their armpits.
Valentina adds a veil to Jytte's head.
"This is a mistake!" Ulrich howls again.
"Yeah. A deadly one. Raise them into the air," Kirill orders.
The pulleys crank and the ropes strain. The couple rises into the air, their robes swaying above the firepits.
A new chant erupts. Torches strike in unison. The arena turns into an inferno.
I stare up at Ulrich and Jytte and think of Fiona's head locked in wood and Kirill's neck exposed to a falling blade. I've never wanted to snap a neck more in my entire life.
Kirill looks at Fiona. "Last chance. Do you want me to show them any mercy?"
She trembles. Then shakes her head. "No."
"Move them over the fire," Kirill shouts.
Hell opens up. Deafening screams fill the arena as lace and roses explode into flames. Fabric curls and blackens while threads of rope burn. Their bodies drop farther as the metal wire bites into their necks.
Fiona gags behind her hand.
Kirill pulls her away.
Sean steps up to handle the sentencing as they leave the stage.
The taste of smoke and vengeance thickens on my tongue. I glance back at the guillotines, my stomach twisting.
Valentina steps beside me, grabs my hand, and urges, "Come with me. This is our chance."
"Huh?"
She tugs at me, and I follow her, darting through the arena toward Fiona and Kirill.
The hallway swallows us in cooler air the second we step into it. Torches line the walls in a softer rhythm, their flames swaying instead of attacking the ground like they did inside.
Fiona leans heavily into Kirill, robe clutched tight, her legs unsteady.
He hovers around her with lethal protectiveness, checking every shadow as if another knife could come flying out at any second.
Valentina and I close the distance fast. She shouts, "Wait!"
Fiona and Kirill turn.
"What's wrong?" Kirill asks with alarm.
She frets, "Are Sean and Zara okay?"
I tease, "They're fine. Living it up with the hanging corpses and declaring a national chastisement for trying to overthrow you."
Fiona blurts out, "Thank you for saving us! Both of you."
I puff my chest out, boasting, "Piece of cake."
"Then why did my wife almost get beheaded?" Kirill seethes, holding Fiona tighter.
Valentina slaps the back of her hand into my stomach so hard I breathe out through my teeth.
Fiona offers a soft correction to her husband. "He's being funny."
"There's nothing funny about it," Kirill repeats, still glaring at me.
Fiona tries again. "Kirill—"
"He's right. It's horrendous, and we need to weed out the rest of the traitors. And that's why you must give us their seats," Valentina announces.
Us?
I'm not joining their cultic table.