Chapter 10 You Do Not Have A Choice #3
Maximus’s laugh was soft, almost pitying. “Then you will die. But not before I send your precious rings to hell. I will burn every Daggermouth in the Boundary, every rebel, and their ashes will fertilize my gardens. Is that what you want for your people?”
Her people. His words echoed in her skull.
Who the hell did they think she was to the rings?
Shadera swallowed, the threat landing as he’d intended. She knew he’d do it, that he’d level an entire ring just to make a point.
Greyson spoke up, his voice tight. “This is insane. You want to marry me to the woman who tried to assassinate your own blood? Who nearly ended the legacy you claim to worship?”
“It is poetic,” Maximus replied, “don’t you think?” He turned his head, letting the light catch the perfect planes of his golden face. “What better way to demonstrate that the Heart’s will cannot be challenged. Not by love, not by hate, not even by violence.”
Shadera watched as Greyson winced then straightened. “This dishonors Brooker’s memory. He died by a Daggermouth’s hand.”
Her head snapped toward him, surprise flashing across her features. She would’ve known if it was a Daggermouth that killed the first heir. It would’ve been celebrated. “How do you know it was a Daggermouth?”
Greyson didn’t so much as look at her as he responded. “Because the contract accepted and signed by Jaeger Nolin was displayed on his body when it was left for us to find in the center of the Heart.”
For a moment the entire world seemed to recede into that one terrible fact. Shadera let the knowledge settle in, and a strange calm spread through her. She could almost laugh, and, in fact, her lips did twitch at the corners, the beginnings of a feral smile.
She wished that contract had been hers.
Maximus cut the silence. “You will have one week, six days precisely, to come to terms with this decision. Until then, you will reside together in Greyson’s apartment, under surveillance to .
. . get to know one another. If either of you attempts to break the arrangement, the consequences will be instant and absolute. ”
He pressed a button under the desk, and a section of wall rotated to reveal a massive display. The screen flickered to life, showing a grainy image of a man moving through the Boundary’s alleys. His stride was instantly recognizable.
Jameson.
Maximus flicked to the next angle. Shadera saw Jameson’s face, tired but smiling as he ducked into a makeshift clinic and crouched down beside a group of rebel children. She went cold, her blood freezing as she watched him.
“You see,” Maximus said, voice gentle now, almost fatherly.
“We know where your loved ones are. We know who you care for. And if you fail to comply, the first bomb will fall on the clinic where your friend aids the rebellion. Then the next, and the next, until there is nothing left but smoldering dirt. It will take only a word from me.”
He stood, looming over them both.
“Do you understand?”
Shadera gripped the armrests so hard her nails tore open the fabric. Every muscle in her body screamed to lunge, to rip his golden face off, to die if it meant taking him with her. But Jameson’s face, and the children beside him, anchored her to the chair.
Greyson’s hand moved to his wound. He sat still, but the tension in him was visible, a slow build toward something inevitable.
“I understand,” Shadera said, the words acid in her mouth.
An exasperated breath burst from Greyson’s lips at her answer, his eyes darting back to Maximus and narrowing. “And what of me, Father? Will you bomb your own precious Heart if I don’t obey? Will you execute your last living heir on live stream to prove a point?”
“No,” Maximus spat down at his son, his fingers splaying across the desk as he leaned on his palms.
The screen flickered to a different view at his back. Two figures stood in the frame, one in a mask Shadera recognized to be that of his daughter, Lira Serel. The other mask, adorned with gold and copper patterns she didn’t recognize.
Greyson shot to his feet, a snarl rolling from behind his mask as he leaned over the desk toward his father. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Just as I told Shadera, I know where to strike, know what buttons to push that will make you beg for this Vow if I must,” Maximus clipped back, no emotion in his voice.
“I love Lira, as I love all my children. But I have no use for her or Callum. You do not have a choice, Greyson. You will obey in the end, as you always have.”
The silence that followed was inhuman, as if a veil had been cast over the world to mute all sounds. Shadera watched as Greyson’s chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, his fists curling around the lip of the desk as if he were anchoring himself to it so he wouldn’t strike.
Once again, Maximus broke the silence. “Now, my son, do you understand?”
Greyson’s jaw worked, the veins bulging along the ridges of his neck. He didn’t speak, didn’t move outside the small dip of his chin.
“Excellent,” Maximus said, a renewed vigor in his voice as he clapped his hands together.
“Please make Shadera feel at home. I will expect you both at our family dinner in a couple days.” He tapped a command into his desk as he said the words and the doors to his office hissed open, four Veyra guards standing in wait on the other side.
Shadera slowly rose from her chair, her mind already plotting, already scheming ways to finally end the Serel bloodline once and for all.
She hadn’t seen when the Veyra officer moved to her side and pushed her forward.
She jerked her arm away from him, finally turning toward the door and marched toward her next prison cell—Greyson Serel’s home.
From behind, she felt Maximus’s eyes on her, watching every step. The last king in a city built on bones.