25. Vaughn
Vaughn
“Open.
The
Door!
Open!
Open!
Ahhhh!”
My fist pounded into the wooden door, and I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Exhaustion didn’t exist. Pain didn’t deter, not when the agony I felt on the inside was more powerful than the bruises and cuts covering my body.
I collapsed to the ground, still hitting. Still putting my weight into the wood.
Betrayed. … By my own Magister. By my own Judic. By my guard.
They spoke of safety. For them. For me.
But what of the safety for my Intended? For… my child?
No child. Not anymore.
Lord Summerlyn had told me of the blood. Of the miscarriage he’d witnessed when they’d prepared her for bed back at Glenbrae. My Reeve… dead. Mark, dead.
My child… My heir… My first….
Dead.
Dead like King Lawrence was going to be.
Dead.
“Open!
The!
Door!”
Another yell left me. I pushed to my feet, moving back and crashing into the barrier. The force caused a pop, and my arm went limp. Pain exploded, and I yelled out, but that only had me lifting my limb into place so I could slam into the door again to fix it.
The anguish dropped me as it popped back into place.
Tears.
I would have never thought someone as unfeeling as me could hold so many tears.
I was going to kill him.
Not if. Not when.
He was already dead.
I’d drag out his death so long and violently that there’d be no one in the world who didn’t know the details of how horrific it was. Men—men like me—like him—would have nightmares at hearing my name. I’d show them. I’d show them all.
“Open!
Now!
Open!”
My voice was so deep. So raw and nearly gone. I beat my fist harder into the wood, seeing red cover my hands. Pain sliced through my throat with every word, but I didn’t care.
I had to get to Penelope. I had to save her from that monster that murdered my child.
Blood.
Yes.
I wouldn’t be the only one bleeding.
They’d bleed too.
They’d all die.
They’d all…
They’d—
Banging sounded.
Footsteps.
“Hey!”
I scrambled to my feet, and the small window in the door slid back revealing a black veil.
“You.” I glared at the Magister. “Let me out of here right now.”
“I will not.”
“You will unlock this door! You heard Lord Summerlyn. Penelope has lost my child. The king has done something to her. He’s given her poison. She is sick, and she could be dying. The Reeve and Mark are dead. Murdered. Open this door, or you’ll be joining them.”
The Magister took a step back.
“You will be released when your sanity returns. To go to Scotland and retrieve your Intended puts The Order at risk. It puts you at risk. We cannot afford that. When we come up with a plan, or they reach out to negotiate, we will come back here to discuss the terms.”
My lips parted. “Discuss the terms?” I couldn’t speak through the disgusted shock. “King Lawrence has my Intended. She is unresponsive and has miscarried my child. There are no discussing terms. You will open this door or the moment I get out I will kill you. Do you understand? Open the door.”
Seconds passed.
“I see you’re still not ready.”
My head shook. “Don’t you fucking dare leave me here again. Get Able.”
“I will not. He may serve you, but I am reason amid instability. That is my purpose, just as I have explained to him. He should not feel guilt for saving your life, and I have told him that.”
“Does he know about my child? About what they’ve done to Penelope? I bet you he doesn’t know, because you didn’t give me the chance to tell him.”
“I will be back later when you’ve thought more on your responsibilities.”
“She is my responsibility! She is yours!”
He took another step back.
“Don’t you—”
The window closed off, and I slammed my fist into the wood.
Footsteps sounded, growing further away.
“You can’t leave her in the hands of the enemy! This is treason! Able!”
But Able didn’t come.
No one came.
That didn’t stop me.
My fists pounded.
I used my body as a weapon.
The walls that were meant to keep criminals and slaves contained now imprisoned a king.
But I wouldn’t stop. I’d find a way out of this cell, and when I did, no one would stand a chance against me.
Not King Lawrence.
Not The Magister.
… Not even The Order.
No one was going to keep me from getting Penelope and bringing her home.
Let them try.