Chapter 44 Leo #2

“What do you think of the house?” she asked, all smiles as I saw floor after floor.

Some of them had closed rooms, which I guessed were where her children had spent their long childhoods, but most were open concept and a strange mix of old-fashioned and over-the-top luxury.

The kitchen looked like it was straight out of the Middle Ages, complete with uneven stone brick built into the tree.

It seemed oddly impossible to have a full firepit for roasting in a tree, but I supposed that was slightly more understandable than actual witches and people shifting into animals.

I didn’t answer, though. I was done with this pretending to play nice.

It was another form of torture, and I wasn’t going to participate in my own torment any more than I had to.

I had to say, my execution was going far differently than I’d imagined it.

I had planned to go into it with my head held high, no begging, hardly any tears if I could help it, but I hadn’t anticipated that I would have to deal with idle chatter or discussions on interior decorating.

“What’s the matter?” Katarina said as if she was surprised by my silence. “Cat got your tongue?”

I cocked an eyebrow.

She sighed. “Right. I suppose it was foolish of me to expect good conversation. Years on my own have somewhat ebbed my ability to read the room. Perhaps I simply never had good social skills to begin with.”

“You managed to seduce all of your son’s fathers,” I said, surprising myself. Antagonizing the witch who was going to torture me didn’t exactly seem like a good idea.

Katarina merely smiled. “I really did, didn’t I? But you’d be amazed what a pretty face and untold power will do to cover for poor social skills.”

She had a point there.

The conversation stilled as the crystal dais finally stopped and the railings dropped back into the floor. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to be impressed with how smoothly the circle slid into the wood, leaving not even a crack to see down below, but then the witch ushered me forward.

“Stand here,” she said, pointing to a spot on the floor.

Although it grated at my nerves, I did as she said. I was not an alpha she could order around, but I was an alpha who was choosing to do what he had to for his people.

Katarina walked away from me without even a glance behind her, settling in a throne more than a dozen paces in front of me.

Behind her, I saw the only window I’d spotted in the place—a giant, stained-glass mural of an angel descending from the clouds, laying a serpent on a baby’s crib that was surrounded by roses.

“Do you like it?” the witch asked, following my gaze. “It’s my birth.”

“Is it a literal thing? Or a metaphorical one?”

“Look who’s suddenly in the mood to talk.”

I leveled her with a flat expression. “If I’m curious, I’ll ask a question.

If you need genuine information from me, I’ll answer.

But I’m not interested in being your dancing monkey.

So, no, I won’t reply to anything frivolous.

I know some people would stall for time, but I’m not interested in that, either. ”

“I would argue that achieving the perfect interior design is far from frivolous, but I understand your point, and I have to respect it. And to answer your question, it is quite literal. I was born a human, to regular human parents, then this great and terrible creature descended from the sky and put a seven-headed snake in my crib. That’s how I was born, although some would say that’s how I was cursed. I don’t much care about the semantics.”

That was news to me. I’d never heard anything about an angel-like figure or any reptiles in the legends about her.

All I knew was that Katarina had begun terrorizing her town at the ripe old age of ten and had escalated from there.

Some even whispered she was the reason witch hunts became so popular.

Now, I had a feeling that was more propaganda than actual fact.

“You’re right. There’s no need for me to draw this out.

Normally, I would delight in such things, but you delivered yourself to me, and you delivered yourself to me a day early.

You deserve for me to make this quick.” She paused, then a slow smile spread across her features.

The grin was suddenly filled with teeth that weren’t human at all.

They were far too large and extended down to needle-like points.

She was letting me see a true part of her.

The part that the terrible magic in her had corrupted entirely. “Grab him.”

I had no idea who she was talking to until two stone golems emerged from mossy, rocky murals on opposite walls.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to do everything to you that you did to my sons. I’m going to hurt you until you’re right on the edge of Death’s door, then let you heal and do it all over again.”

The golems shoved forward, hulking in their steps, and their too-large, three-fingered hands gripped my forearms before hauling me off my feet.

“And I will repeat that over, and over, and over, until whatever magic that fuels you shifters runs out, and your wounds bleed freely. Then, and only then, will you have peace, and our feud will be over.”

Ow. My shoulders would definitely feel that the next morning—if I lived to see the next morning. I could only pray the torture wouldn’t last that long.

“I won’t interrupt things with theatrics. I won’t give you false hopes only to take them away. I won’t let you rot for weeks, thinking I forgot about you, just to bring you out and start it up all over again. I will be as direct as I can as I eviscerate you.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful for that?” I spat.

Again, I knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to create conflict with a somewhat amicable executioner, but her fake, magnanimous tone rubbed me the wrong way.

She was acting like some poor, put-upon person who’d been ordered to do some terrible action and had no choice but to fulfill her duty.

She was framing herself as the victim when really she was the aggressor.

“You should be,” she mused, before resting her chin in her hand and making the slightest gesture with a single finger.

It felt like I had been set on fire, and I had to bite my tongue not to scream out in pain and surprise.

It caused such strange dissonance in my brain, because when I looked down, there wasn’t a single flame on me.

I didn’t know if it was in my mind or whether her magic was in my nerves, but it didn’t matter.

I was literally burning alive, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

It was pure, undiluted agony. I didn’t remember ever setting any of her sons on fire. Maybe this was a warm up for her. And if it was just a warm up, that did not bode well for what was to come.

My inner wolf thrashed, panicking hard as it desperately tried to find a way to survive. I clamped down on it with all I had. There was no running away this time. This was our sacrifice to our pack.

He bristled at that, but stilled. If there was anything my wolf and I knew, it was that our pack was our ultimate responsibility. They came first in every way, as did our mate.

Ven.

Picturing our love gave us something to center on, and it was exactly what we did.

It wasn’t all that different from how I’d retreated from the torture at the medical facility, except already this seemed so much more profound.

I had no idea how I would endure everything the witch had in store for me, but I would do it.

“There it is. That’s the pain I wanted to see on your proud features. This is how my sons looked when you killed them all, isn’t it?”

I didn’t know what possessed me to respond, and it was definitely stupid, but I pulled my lips back from my teeth and snarled, “Usually they either had a dumb look of surprise or were crying as they begged for their lives.”

Even when I was trying to be noble, the more brutish side of me could still slip out. Oh, well. What was she going to do? Kill me harder?

“And here I was being so gracious.”

She raised her free hand, and it felt like every single bone in my body was being ripped through my skin.

I screamed. But once more, when I looked down, nothing was moving under my skin, and my bones were all safely where bones were supposed to be.

It seemed the son who specialized in pain had gotten his powers directly from the source.

“I don’t have to be nice, you know. I don’t expect you to be the politest guest, but do not mock me about my loss.”

Her loss? I wanted to spit at her, but I couldn’t.

My jaw was locked in place, and it felt like my teeth were bleeding.

Yes, her seven evil sons had died, but what about Ven’s mother?

What about my pack? What about all the shifters who had been kidnapped and sold off or used as their personal harem?

What about the ones who’d been turned into mindless security guards?

What about the families her sons had torn apart, and what about all those who died?

Their lives ended alone, possibly mind-controlled, separated from everything they knew and loved.

She knew nothing of loss. As far as I was concerned, she was a giant baby trying to masquerade as the boss, when really she was throwing her toys out of the cot because she was mad that her family finally got their just desserts.

“I see that contempt in your eyes. I’ve heard stories about you, Leo. I didn’t believe them because you are so very young, but in truth, it would take someone very special to take down all my sons.”

She squeezed her hand into a fist, and several of my bones cracked. This time it wasn’t just in my mind because I could feel the bones healing. The golems never let go of my arms, leaving me hanging in my torment.

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