60. CHAPTER 60
Miya
The Territories
Caspador
The captain and his squad took Miya to a safehouse out in the countryside, where they waited for air transport.
The home was isolated and furnished with all the basics, including a comfortable bed in one of the rooms where she rested.
They’d looked after her injury, suddenly very concerned with her health, even giving her medicine to dull the pain.
What waited for her in Ciondo? What kind of terrible deals would her father make to bring her home?
As horrible as she figured the Phaedra's plans were, her mind kept returning to Lance at the hospital.
He didn't have any injuries too severe for them to help him.
He was safe now, away from the captain's jealousy and contempt. Away from the Phaedra.
Zayne and Ashantae would protect Lance now. Miya needed to believe that because she wasn't sure what else to do.
The captain opened her door. “We need to talk. How are you?”
She scowled. “Don’t play nice, Christopher.”
Tightly controlled anger twitched his nostrils. “I’ve considered our arrangement and come to my terms.”
Miya sat up in bed, bringing her knees to her chest just to have something between them. “Don’t forget I can always tell the truth.”
“Don’t forget I can always pick up Lance and kill him.”
Miya kept hearing Lance's ribs cracking beneath the captain's boot. Whatever it took to keep him safe, she'd do it. He was a good man. The captain didn't get to hurt him again. So, they talked and agreed on the lies that made him look best.
Twenty minutes before the aircraft was due to arrive, the captain invited her to the living room and handed her a flute of wine.
The soldiers sat on the couches and on chairs brought in from the kitchen.
Some stood against the wall. Each member of his squad held their own glass, raising them to her.
The captain opened his arm to her, inviting her to stand in the middle of the room with him. She grimaced when she walked close enough for him to pull her against his side, hand on her waist.
“A toast,” he said. “To better days ahead.”
The men cheered and drank their wine, but Miya only held hers, her stomach too nervous for alcohol.
“To Miya!” The captain raised his empty glass, looking down at her, arm tightening around her. “The princess who will make us rich and famous. The Phaedra is pleased.”
When she tried to open space between, he squeezed her hard enough to hurt. Angering him risked Lance, but they also had an understanding that Miya wasn't powerless when it came to him. What she said to the Phaedra impacted his career.
A glass shattered against the ground. A soldier stumbled to his feet and then wretched. Another man jerked forward, saliva dripping from his mouth, before he dropped onto the ground, convulsing.
Miya ripped against the captain's arm to flee, but she couldn't break free of him.
Every man except for the captain fell to the ground with horrific cries, bodies writhing, foam bubbling on their lips.
The squad convulsed on the ground in a circle around them.
Miya dropped her glass and shoved her forearms against the captain, crying out when he clamped his other arm around her too.
Shakes started in her hands and spread over her whole body. No matter how hard she fought, she couldn't get away from him. She screamed in terror and stomped on his foot.
“You… b-bastard!” The sergeant reached his trembling hand across the ground.
The entire time, the captain watched Miya without looking at the dying soldiers, at ease while she fought to escape him.
The last one left moving groaned and then stopped twitching.
“W-what did you do?” She pounded against his chest.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“Oh, my god.”
“Calm down. You didn’t even know them. I can’t let some nobodies have power over me. Now, we’re the only people who know the real story.” He lifted a hand to her face. “Yours wasn't poisoned. I'm not going to kill you. Don't be scared.”
Miya squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against his chest again. “Let me go, you psychopath!”
“We’ll disappear for a few days. The story is that the United caught wind and attacked. Time to go.”
He bent and lifted her over his shoulder, ignoring her fists beating against his back.
“What are you doing?” She tried kicking, but he held her legs too tightly against him. “Stop.”
Miya knew the captain was a terrible, vile man, but she never expected he could murder his entire squad without even blinking. What did he hope to accomplish with this? Any sway Miya held died with the captain's squad, because he obviously didn't care what Miya would say to the Phaedra.
The captain was in complete control of her.
He carried her out to a van and cuffed her wrists and ankles to the seat. When he returned to the safehouse, she bucked against her restraints and looked for weapons, but the van was spotless.
Miya beat her head back against the seat, screaming.
He said he didn't plan to kill her, but she might rather die than survive a few days of whatever he intended.
It wasn't bad enough that Miya ruined the Phaedra's plan to kill the king or that she destroyed Christopher's reputation.
Placed his career in jeopardy. That would be the worst for most men. But not for someone like the captain.
He claimed her as his own, and she ran away with another man. She hurt his ego. He'd make her suffer to prove she was powerless against him. Destroy her for wounding him. For not belonging to him. Make her wish he had poisoned her too.
It was time to cut off the terror and think, because Miya knew men like this, knew them too well, and she couldn't afford to give in to fear.
Hardly five minutes passed before black smoke rolled against the windows in the living room.
The captain ran back to the van.
“People will suspect you,” she said, still shaking, but able to think again.
“Let them. The Phaedra will hear my story. The world will hear it. Everything else is speculation.”
“And what is that story? Where are you taking me?” Miya watched the flames eat through the roof as they drove into the night.
“We were captured by militia members who intercepted our communication about you. I saved you from them. We'll return to Ciondo in a few days.” He eyed her while he drove. “I've come under some bad luck recently. I need a victory with the Phaedra.”
“You killed your whole squad for this.”
“The Phaedra will praise me for uncovering the secret of your identity and for saving you from those vile opportunists.” He slid his hand over her knee. “You have a few days to make up for your betrayal to me.”
She'd die before making up anything to him.
With a scowl, she jerked her leg away. “You realize I'm telling everyone what you did to your squad, right? And I'll tell them about whatever you do to me.”
“It might matter whose daughter you are, but you don't matter. You're the marked runaway princess who chose to fuck her way across Caspador rather than return to a palace. At any time, you could have gone home.”
Miya couldn't speak because he was right. Why would anyone believe her? The Phaedra gave him double seals, and he was about to save the long-lost princess from traitorous soldiers. If she said anything about the captain, then he was her victim. The victim of her slander and lying tongue.
“You've spent your life asking for it. You chose all of this. You could have gone home. No one will believe you. No one will care. They know what kind of woman you are. The kind who sullies the name of good men and dirties up everything she touches.”
The attack ravaged deeper than he could know, because she'd lived with that voice inside her all this time.
Miya ran away for a reason. The deal her father made over her was just as bad.
At least out here, Miya found some power.
Or she told herself that. But none of these justifications softened what the captain said.
It felt too true. Wasn't it her fault she ended up here? Maybe she deserved this.
“You came to my room. Remember? You offered yourself to me. You can't threaten me, you fucking slut.” He gripped her chin and jerked her face toward him. “You're still mine. Hear me? Mine.”
Miya nodded, but he didn't let go, so she spoke. “Yes.”
He kept driving faster and faster. “I'll straighten you out before I give you to the Phaedra.”
Her breathing quickened too much, clouding her thoughts with panic. Had to stay calm.
For several minutes, she watched out the window, trying not to think about what the captain said, and instead focused on getting away from him. It didn't matter if he was right or not.
She wasn't surrendering.
And she didn't claw back her power at Rafferty by panicking. This was a life Miya knew.
A tear fell. She let him hear the brokenness in her voice. “You're right about me. I brought this on myself.”
His gaze lingered on her, softening. “I will miss you, Miya, no matter how much you piss me off. There's just something about you. I'll cherish our last few days together.”
She felt like throwing up, and if it happened, she was aiming for him. “I was so stupid thinking I could get away. How did you know I was the one who talked to the United?”
He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other on his armrest, close to his handgun. “It was either you or the servant. Bale and your boss would get killed going to the United. You seemed most likely.”
“That’s it? That was all you had?”
“I was right.” He rolled his shoulders. “If I wasn’t, so what? I thought you were just a whore at the time. And you ran off with another man.”
So what? Miya settled back in her seat. Life meant nothing to him.
They drove a long way. When he finally stopped, he pulled up to a small wooden cabin in the woods. He unfastened her and hoisted her over his shoulder to carry her inside, where he boarded up the windows and placed a lock on the only door.