Chapter 10 Unleashed
UNLEASHED
The executioner hauled me into the chamber.
The walls were stone, blackened in places by magic when the fae sacked the city centuries ago. Bewitched light illuminated fragments of human craftsmanship defaced with runes. A vaulted ceiling arched overhead, its ribs vanishing into shadows.
Rows of benches faced the dais at the far end. A pedestal stood in the center, carved from obsidian and veined with blue. A massive sacrifice rune surrounded it, drawing all energy toward the stained depression in the floor. At its edge, a small crystal sat nestled within a brass holder.
Why was I here? Executions happened in the Square, where everyone could watch, but this room was tucked away in the palace. Perhaps they didn’t want the public knowing about me?
I searched the room, heart hammering.
No sign of Vaeris. Not among the nobles lounging like cats on the benches. Not near the advisors with their pinched expressions. If he wanted to help, where was he?
I’d let myself hope again, like a fool.
The ugly truth settled in my chest—he wasn’t coming. Maybe he’d tried and his father stopped him, or he’d never intended to be here at all.
Either way, I was alone.
King Vaeron sat on his throne, the queen beside him like a wraith dressed in onyx.
Father and son shared the same jet-black hair, the same sharp angles that made them beautiful in the way winter was beautiful: harsh, distant, deadly.
But where Vaeris’s eyes held flickers of warmth when he forgot to guard them, the king’s were flat as frozen lakes.
Vaeron’s mouth was a slash of cruelty. I’d seen Vaeris laugh hard when we were alone, but his father seemed carved from disdain.
Queen Livia sat so still she might’ve been part of the throne. Flawless like a sculpture, too perfect to be real. Something uncanny shimmered beneath her porcelain skin. When she breathed, it seemed more like mimicry.
The executioner forced me to my knees.
Henrik stepped out from the shadows. “This girl destroyed a structure enhanced by six master clerics. She wields power that could shatter cities. Your Majesties, I beg you not to underestimate this monster.”
Monster. That settled in my gut like rot.
They’d already decided what I was. The debate had raged without me, and I hadn’t been there to defend myself. Typical fae.
“Your crimes are clear.” The king’s glare stabbed into me. “You meddled with forbidden magic. You unraveled an entire section of the city.”
I’d spent my whole life bowing. Smiling. Swallowing every insult, humiliation, and injustice because staying quiet kept us alive. But Rheya was gone, and I was going to die anyway.
What was the point of silence now?
I lifted my chin. “You force us to die for your comfort. Did you think we’d kneel forever?”
“Humans cannot control runes!”
“I don’t control runes. I destroy them.”
The king’s fingers clenched the gilded arms of his throne. Sparks crackled across his knuckles. When he stood, the chamber fell silent. Even the queen, lounging like a serpent at his side, watched him with a flicker of interest.
The king descended the dais, his cloak sweeping over the polished stone. He studied me, a hawk staring down a field mouse.
“Do you know what you really are? You’re an anomaly. Like a two-headed calf. Curious to examine, perhaps, but in the end? Just another mistake to purge.”
“Your son has human blood. Does that make him half a mistake, or did you fail to breed anything better?”
His hand moved fast. Pain exploded across my face as I hit the floor.
“You speak like a child, grasping at power that doesn’t belong to you. The gods gave us dominion over all creatures. Including humans.” The king’s eyes narrowed to slits. “You are nothing.”
“Then why are you so afraid of me?”
“Afraid?” The king laughed. “Of a human?”
“Two humans,” the queen said, rising from her throne with serpentine grace. “Oh, yes. Did you think we’d let another girl with your abilities slip through our grasp?”
My jaw locked. “She drowned in the flood.”
The queen’s smile widened. “Did she?”
I held her gaze. If Rheya were dead, the queen would have paraded her body in front of me. So they hadn’t found her. Good.
The queen tilted her head. “Do you think she’ll stay hidden forever? She’s a clever thing, I’m sure. Both of you slipped our nets this long. Which only makes me more certain that she possesses gifts of her own.”
I stilled. “She’s just a girl.”
“So are you.” The queen twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “And yet, here you are, accused of crimes that have thrown an entire city into chaos. If one human could do this, what could two accomplish?”
My stomach churned.
The queen leaned back. “Don’t worry, my dear. We’ll find her, and when we do, we’ll see what she’s capable of.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
No.
The room dimmed, the edges of my vision blackening as my lungs forgot how to work. Lies. They had to be. A trick meant to break me down.
“Oh, don’t look so stricken,” she purred. “If she’s as special as you, then she’ll be strong enough to endure whatever fate awaits her.”
I couldn’t fall apart with the queen watching.
“Unless,” the queen mused, glancing at the king. “You do something for us. Bend your neck willingly, and your sister lives.”
No. I wouldn’t trade one sacrifice for another.
They wanted me to agree for a reason. Unwilling sacrifices made runes unstable. The fae claimed that defiance poisoned the flow of power. That’s why they held the Rite. Forced deaths gave them magic, but willing ones gave them control.
I pictured them collecting my blood, using it to power the thousands of runes enchanting Skalgard. Runes for light and stability. For the very walls that penned us in like cattle. My death would fuel the prison I’d tried to escape.
Then Rheya would stand in the same spot. Would they make her kneel, too?
The queen’s smile thinned. “Think carefully, human. What is your pride worth if it costs your sister everything?”
Every instinct screamed to protect my sister, but this wasn’t protection. This was surrender.
“No,” I growled. “I won’t do it.”
The queen sneered. “How short-sighted.”
The king held up a hand, gesturing to the executioner.
The executioner pushed me toward the block. I clawed at the stone, nails breaking, but my knees still slammed against the floor.
Conflict flickered behind the executioner’s gaze. He shifted, shoving the gauntlet into my face. I jerked back, but he squeezed harder until his armor bit my cheek. The jagged rune stood out on the steel, an angry red wound. He tapped me.
Twice.
I gaped at him. Was he telling me to break it? Or taunting me before he killed me?
He prodded me. Raised his brows.
Henrik stepped forward. “Your Majesty. If we destroy her now, we lose the chance to understand what she is. This may never happen again in our lifetimes.”
The king turned slowly. “My son said the same.”
“I need more time to study her,” Henrik pressed. “She’s not a threat if we keep her shackled.”
King Vaeron faced me, his jaw tightening. “Perhaps. We don’t know what else this thing can do.”
“Curious, isn’t it?” the queen purred. “Two males, both in contact with this human, suddenly eager to preserve her life. I wonder what she’s done to earn such loyalty.”
Murmurs broke out in the room.
The executioner pushed his gauntlet close. The rune glowed, and he nudged me again. His eyes bored into mine, trying to tell me something.
I grasped his hand. My fingers slipped up the cold metal, sliding over the rune’s surface. It felt wrong—prickly, wooden.
“What is she doing?” The king’s roar shook the throne room. “Executioner, seize her!”
The executioner gripped my hair. I gasped as he yanked me up, baring my throat.
“Off with her head,” the king snarled.
Steel sang as he drew his sword.
I can’t die here.
I clung to his gauntlet, shoving against the rune as it shredded through my palm.
His gauntlet sparked. The magic inside writhed—a venomous vine throttling its prey. Tangled snarls of power coiled through his armor, slithering up from the gauntlet into his arm, threading through muscle and bone. Controlling him.
One vine wrapped his bicep. Another strangled his elbow joint. Thinner tendrils branched down each finger, puppeting every twitch. He tried to pull back but the magic dragged him forward.
He was trapped.
“Executioner,” the king barked, “now.”
His body jerked, wrenched by invisible strings, the blade rising. A sound tore from his throat that made my blood freeze. Not rage—pain.
I shoved harder.
My fingers pierced the rune’s center, and agony lanced up my arm. Thorns of magic bit deep, slicing through skin, scraping me, but I held on.
“Break,” I whispered.
The vines hissed like angry serpents.
“Break.”
The threads binding the executioner strained, fighting with a vicious desperation before they began to snap. One. Then another. The last thread trembled, then it shattered.
A blast rocked the ground. The shockwave smashed into my arm and chest, throwing me backward. My head slammed into the block, pain exploding in my skull.
The earth quaked. Guards shouted as the floor cracked, forking across the marble dais and up the walls. It broke apart the roof. Nobles sprinted for the exit.
I gaped at the fracture in the ceiling. It went all the way down the wall, right to where I sat.
The executioner staggered. His sword wavered as he breathed hard. The gauntlet had cleaved in two. He shook it off him, kicking the pieces away.
I’d done it. I’d freed him.
He stepped in front of me as a red mist swirled around him. His eyes glowed with savage delight as he faced the king and queen.
His lips curved. “Finally.”
The king gestured to his guards. “Stop him!”
Snarling, the executioner whirled. Steel flashed as he cut down the first guard, the blade slicing through the man’s armor. Soldiers fell like wheat before a scythe. Henrik died with a sword through his chest, choking on his blood.
Crimson spilled over the stone floor. The executioner raised his palm. His fingers curled, and blood rolled toward him like pebbles shaking out of sand.
The king and queen backed from the throne.
The executioner lifted his hand, and their bodies froze.
“Vaeron,” the queen shrieked. “I can’t move!”
The executioner’s boot slammed into Vaeron’s ribs. The king tumbled down the marble steps, smashing into each edge—crack, crack, crack—until he sprawled in a heap of velvet.
Then the executioner seized the queen by her long ebony hair.
She screamed as he dragged her down the stairs, her feet kicking. He hauled her like a horse on a lead rope, and when she twisted away, he yanked harder. At the bottom, he shoved her to her knees beside the king. Then he angled the blade along her neck.
“You should’ve killed me decades ago,” he sneered.
The queen opened her mouth.
He slit her throat.
Her eyes went wide. So wide I could see the whites all around. She clutched at her neck, blood spurting between her fingers. She tried to speak but only wet, gurgling sounds came out, bubbling through the gash.
The executioner released her. She buckled sideways, still trying to breathe.
King Vaeron squealed as the executioner heaved his dripping blade.
Slash.
The king’s head lolled at an unnatural angle, nearly severed, and he slumped against his queen. Their blood pooled together, spreading across the marble like a dark mirror.
Then the executioner’s gaze swept the fleeing nobles. His hand lifted.
A lord who’d laughed during my sentencing didn’t have time to scream. He exploded. A burst of red mist where a person had been. Chunks of him splattered the walls, the floor, the panicked people running past. Someone shrieked. Another noble burst apart.
“Stop!” I shouted. “You don’t have to kill them all!”
He moved through the room with terrible purpose, ignoring me.
I watched it unfold, horrified. A female crumpled with her chest caved in.
A cleric’s head separated from his shoulders mid-stride.
The younger ones—barely more than children—he let scramble past him, their silk slippers sliding in blood.
In seconds, the entire royal family was gone. The power structure of Skalgard had crumbled, and I had caused it. Henrik, who’d violated my mind. Finished. The king and queen who’d ruled for centuries. Dead.
All of them.
I’d never seen anything so brutal in my life. Even during the Rite, when they lined up humans for harvesting. That seemed cleaner than this.
A deafening silence pressed against my skull.
I glanced at the doors. Nobody guarded them anymore.
Run.
I got up.
The executioner faced me, the crimson mist clinging to him like living shadows. Nightmare fuel for my dreams.
I bleated a thin sound, like an animal right before slaughter. I lunged for the exit, but an invisible rope yanked at my navel.
My feet slid backward across blood-slicked stone.
“No!” I clawed at a wall, but my body jerked like a fish on a line. I twisted, trying to grab something that would make me stop. “Let go!”
The executioner watched me as he wiped his blade.
The invisible hook wrenched my torso around. My legs marched like a puppet’s limbs. Walking when I wanted to run. I lurched past the carnage, lifeless eyes and gaping mouths, blood everywhere, and my stomach heaved but my throat locked shut and I couldn’t vomit—
Three steps. Two.
I stopped in front of him, and the pulling ceased. I stood there, shaking, staring at his bloodstained boots. Was this the part where he finished me?
He sheathed his sword. “Come with me.”
His command thrummed through my veins.