Chapter 67 #2
Renault caught her wrist before the needle could pierce Rhone’s skin. The knight’s biting hold caused pain, but that was nothing compared to the agony she felt as he ripped the ring from her finger. It wasn’t just physical—her very heart wept.
“Clever,” Renault mused, eyeing the exposed needle. “It must be coated in some sort of poison.” He tossed the ring to the floor, and it clattered away.
“No,” she rasped. “Please.”
Renault ignored her as he searched for other weapons. She wasn’t wearing her dagger, though he easily found the bloodstone. Satisfaction filled his eyes. “I was right,” he said, the curve of his lips both triumphant and smug.
Amryn whimpered as he pocketed the amulet, and it felt as if he was tearing out her heart when he took away her mother’s prayer coin. But when he touched her bracelet—her most precious gift from Carver—she snarled and fought against Rhone’s hold.
Renault cursed and made to tear the bracelet from her wrist, but Rhone said over her cries, “It’s a simple marriage bracelet. It’s harmless.”
Tears stung Amryn’s eyes, and she hated that Renault glanced down and saw them.
“Carver,” she gasped. It was supposed to be a threat—a reminder that they were taking her from General Carver Vincetti, one of the most feared men in the empire.
But it came out too breathless, revealing the unspoken truth—his name on her lips had been a cry for help.
A desperate plea to her husband, wherever he was right now.
Help me, Carver. Please.
Renault must have only heard weakness in her broken voice. The knight snorted, fingering the delicate cuff around her wrist. “You think Carver would save you if he were here? When he learns the truth of what you are, he’ll forever curse the day he met you.”
Forever. Aeternum. The thought of that word pressing against her wrist made her tears fall faster, her throat hot and tight.
The door burst open and an inhuman growl filled the air. “What are you doing? Get off her!”
The dark snarl made her head turn, and her body shook with trapped sobs when she saw Berron rush for her, his single eye blazing with fury.
Rhone’s hold on her tensed. “Berron, no!”
Berron ignored Rhone’s shout.
Renault slid into Berron’s path.
Visions of his blade sinking into Berron, just as that same knife had stabbed into Felinus, made Amryn cry out.
Renault didn’t draw his blade, but his honed skills outmatched Berron’s rusty training—especially when he exploited Berron’s blind side and delivered a staggering punch to his jaw.
Carver’s brother stumbled, and Renault managed to pin him to the wall, his forearm braced across Berron’s throat. His other hand strangled the wrist of Berron’s only hand, his thumb digging into the pulse point of his wrist.
The small knife Berron held tumbled to the floor.
Berron’s face went red with rage. He struggled violently against Renault’s unforgiving hold.
Amryn’s tears fell faster. Berron was strangling himself by fighting so relentlessly against the immovable knight. “Stop.” She tried to scream the word, but her voice came out painfully weak. “Don’t . . . hurt . . .”
“Berron,” Rhone snapped, his deep voice rumbling against her back. “Stop it!”
Berron didn’t seem to hear the knight. His eye was fixed on Amryn, the ties of his eyepatch digging a sharp furrow across his cheek and brow. The tendons in his neck strained. He was choking, but still fighting to reach her.
“Enough.” Lisbeth strode to Renault’s side. “You may be able to kill an old cleric, but Berron is a Vincetti. You can’t kill him without repercussions.”
Renault’s expression darkened. He leaned in, getting dangerously close to Berron’s bared teeth.
His arm flexed, still locked across Berron’s throat.
“If you don’t calm yourself, you’re going to crush your own throat.
That’s a painful way to die, but at least I can tell your father it wasn’t my fault.
Now, use whatever sense you have left, you stupid addict, and look at me. ”
Berron’s face was purple now. But at least his movements slowed, and his eye shifted from her to Renault.
“Good,” the senior knight nearly purred, mockery thick in his voice. “Now. Prove you aren’t the idiot in your family, Berron. Why am I, a knight, here in Lady Vincetti’s room at this hour?”
Berron glared at him, his chest heaving.
Renault tutted. “Perhaps you’re even more of a fool than I thought.”
“She’s an empath,” Rhone fairly snapped.
Berron’s single eye rounded, shock carved into every line of his face.
Renault curved out a cold smile. “He’s not lying. She is an empath.”
Berron’s gaze shot to Amryn. She knew he expected her to deny it. And when she didn’t . . .
Amryn knew the exact moment he realized the Quinns were telling the truth. The death of Berron’s denial played out across his face. The emotions that battered him were painfully clear. Fear. Vulnerability. Disgust. Panic. Embarrassment. Confusion. Betrayal.
She didn’t feel the emotions, not with the poison swimming in her body. But, somehow, she still felt the pain of them.
Berron’s struggles had ceased completely.
Slowly, Renault removed his arm, freeing him. And yet, Carver’s brother didn’t move from the wall he’d been held against. He stared at Amryn, turmoil churning in his single eye. His voice was hoarse as he asked, “What are you going to do with her?”
Rhone answered, his tone placating. “My father is taking her to the Tower. It’s the only place an empath can be secured.”
A muscle in Berron’s cheek pulsed. “You can’t just take her. She’s one of the Chosen. She’s Jayveh’s friend. She’s Carver’s wife.”
“That’s exactly why we must take her,” Renault said. “An empath cannot exist among such people. She’s dangerous. An abomination.”
Her involuntary whimper was quiet, but the room was so silent she knew everyone heard it.
Berron’s hand clenched at his side. “Are you going to kill her?”
“No.” It was Rhone who spoke again. “And I give you my word, she will not suffer.”
Amryn knew that was a lie. Looking at Berron, she was certain he knew it, too. He swallowed hard, still holding her gaze. “You can’t just take her,” he repeated. “They’ll look for her. All of them. Carver, Jayveh, my father—”
“Not when they’re told what she is,” Renault cut in. “They’ll be grateful we took her so quietly and painlessly from their lives. They’ll long to forget they ever knew her.”
“Trust them,” Lisbeth said, her robe sweeping the floor as she moved closer to Berron.
“It’s better this way. In the rare event an empath has worked itself into a position of power, the knights have learned that the cleanest way to eliminate them is not through some garish, public execution.
Look at her,” she added, nodding toward Amryn.
The order was hardly necessary, as Berron had yet to look away.
Lisbeth’s voice was soft as she said, “She’s been given a potion that has numbed her abilities and dulled her rage. She’s no longer a risk to anyone. The Order has no reason to hurt her.”
“She’s not human, Berron,” Renault said, his words extra harsh after Lisbeth’s soothing tone. “She may look it, but she’s not. Anything you feel for her is a manipulation. Don’t trouble yourself with her. She certainly feels nothing for you.”
A tear tracked down her face. Despite the poison that left her listless, she couldn’t help but whisper, “Not . . . true.”
Berron’s jaw tensed. “Did Carver know?” he asked her.
“No.” She uttered the lie without hesitation. She wouldn’t put Carver in danger with the knights.
Renault took a step back. “We’ve wasted enough time. Rhone, give her to me.”
“Berron,” Amryn rasped as Renault took her into his grasp. “Please . . .” Tell Carver I love him.
Only five words, but she couldn’t make her mouth release them.
Something flashed across Berron’s face. Then he saw Felinus on the floor, blood pooling around his still body.
His head snapped to Renault. “You killed a cleric?”
Renault’s eyes narrowed. “He was a heretic. He chose to defend an empath. Don’t make the same mistake.” The knight looked to Lisbeth. “Grab the cleric’s bag. I know he took at least one book from the library at Esperance, and I want to see what it was.”
Amryn’s gut clenched weakly. Von’s journal. It was in Felinus’s bag.
But she was fading too quickly. Alarm was a distant thing, even when Renault swung Amryn into his arms, bracing her against his chest in a horrific imitation of a caring hold. Her head fell back, too heavy to support any longer.
“Wait!” Berron darted forward, but Amryn’s eyes were already falling closed. The last thing she saw through slitted eyes was Berron’s harried face as he ran for her. “Amryn!”
A grunt. The thud of a body hitting the floor.
The roaring in her ears muffled anything else.
She was barely clinging to consciousness now. She only had one thought left, circling endlessly in her mind. One wish. One hope. One final, desperate prayer as she slipped into oblivion.
Find me, Carver. Please find me.