Chapter 3
ELLE
It’s been forty-five days. Forty-five days since I saw Willa—Cora—kill Mae.
Forty-five days since they dragged me from the throne room.
Forty-five days since they threw me in an empty room and chained me to the floor.
Four days since they broke me.
On day ten, two guards drag me to the throne room, their rough hands pinching my arms as they pull me through the door.
The throne room looks like nothing ever happened.
There’s no longer a giant gaping hole in the ceiling.
The massive crater in the floor is now filled and replaced with cool marble tiles, no longer the warm hardwoods that I loved.
Marik sits on one of the twin thrones where Mae should be, long legs sprawled.
A black metal crown of snakes wrapped around branches rests upon his raven hair.
A glistening ebony chain is wrapped around his forearm, black diamonds glinting in the light as he pops plump, green grapes into his mouth.
“Hello, dear,” he says, a grin on his face. It only grows when I sneer at him. “Chain her to the other throne,” he commands the guards.
They abide, dumping me in the other throne of branches and berries like a sack of potatoes. The moment I’m free, I stand, ready to run. But a wall of magic forces me back down.
“You will sit and you will behave,” Marik orders, his voice deep and commanding.
I glare at him from the throne. “What do you want?” Venom laces every word.
He crosses one long leg over the other. “I am offering you the chance to become High Queen.”
He cannot be serious.
I remain silent.
“Okay, let’s try again,” he says, tilting his head. “You have two options. You can cooperate and pretend to be Mae. You can sit beside me as my wife, and we can rule the kingdom together. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to be the powerful queen you’ve always wanted to be.”
My jaw remains clenched. I have never wanted that.
“Or,” he says, still with that stupid grin on his chiseled face, “I force you to pretend to be Mae. And I can assure you, darling, that will not be very pleasant for you.” He plunks another grape into his mouth and watches me carefully as he chews.
“Over my dead body will I pretend to be Mae,” I snarl.
His smile grows, splitting his face. “That’s what I thought you’d say. And I’m so glad you did.”
Before I can respond, my wrists and ankles are cuffed by invisible threads of magic. My head slams back, pain flaring as it strikes the throne. A heavy, sinking sensation settles in my stomach.
Marik comes to stand before me, holding the black chain in his hands. No, not a chain—a necklace of a snake, the head biting the tip of its tail. He unclasps it and places it around my neck, the metal cold as ice. I hiss as it makes contact with my skin.
Marik stands back, surveying the necklace now resting on collarbones that have turned too sharp.
He opens his mouth, and fangs extend from his upper gumline.
He uses one to prick his wrist, his face remaining apathetic, even as blood spots.
He smears it on the snake’s head and mutters something under his breath.
At his words, a chill spreads through me.
My magic disappears, leaving an empty well inside of me.
I reach, I claw, I scramble for it, but it’s gone. As if it never existed. “What did you do?” I ask in horror.
Blood drips from his wrist, trailing down his forearm. “I gave you a choice, and this is what you chose. From here on, you’ll only speak when you’re spoken to.”
I open my mouth, ready to let loose a string of foul words, but it snaps shut. Every time I try to open it, it’s like my brain has lost control over my muscles. The restraints around my wrists and ankles disappear. With every ounce of power in my body, I will myself to stand.
But nothing happens.
I’m paralyzed.
My eyes are the only part of me that I can control. I stare at him, the blood in my veins a terrifying mix of the flames of anger and the icy crawl of horror. But neither of them manifest. Because my magic is gone.
He made me a prisoner inside my own body.
I’ll kill him for this. I’ll tear his limbs from his body, rip his precious fangs from his gums, tie him to a whipping post—
“Don’t forget, Mae. You had a choice,” he says with a smirk before turning and walking toward the exit. He pauses in the doorway. With a flick of his wrist, the lights extinguish.
And I’m stuck here.
In my own body.
In my new cage.
The first time I hear his voice in my head is on day thirteen.
Are you ready to cooperate yet? he croons in my mind, low and sensual. It sends shivers down my spine.
Fuck you, I bite back.
His chuckle is the only answer. If I could move, I’d claw my pointed ears from my head.
I haven’t moved from this damned throne in days.
My muscles ache, my backside numb from sitting here.
Since I’m not given leave to use the bathroom, the guards visit once per day to clean and dry my soiled clothes.
I’ve lost any sense of shame by the fourth time.
My only reprieve is when Marik loosens the hold on my face and neck to allow me to eat the meager meals they hand-feed me.
Even that is quickly taken away when I start spitting the food out. He wants me—no, needs me—alive.
So, day thirteen is also the day I decide I have to kill myself.
On day eighteen, Marik strolls into the throne room. He walks toward me, eyeing me up and down.
“Hello, darling,” he says before coming to a stop in front of the throne.
I shift my gaze to meet his, but it stops at his chest because I can’t move my neck.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says, clasping his pale hands together.
“I am going to release you. Together, we are going to walk to your new living quarters. You will not fight me, nor will you try to escape. Nod if you understand me.” My head bobs up and down, despite my inner thoughts screaming for it not to.
“Right. Of course you understand, because those are my orders. Now, follow me.”
Once again, my body does as he wills it. I stand and instantly stumble. My knees collide with the marble floor and pain shoots through me. My instinct is to gasp, but my jaw is locked.
Marik doesn’t even look back.
My traitorous body rises and follows him from the throne room, every other step a stumble as weak legs fight to keep up.
He leads me to the foyer. Just as I think we’re about to walk out the doors, he ascends the grand staircase. My thighs scream as I follow him, and I watch in dread as he walks to Mae’s living quarters.
“I thought you might be more comfortable staying in your own space. It might be nice for you to sleep in a bed. You’ll have regular access to food and water.” He looks back at me, his face crinkling in disgust. “You’ve lost too much weight. Mae was thin, but not that thin.”
He pauses, waiting for me to respond. I will my mouth shut.
Yes, Marik, he says in my head.
“Yes, Marik,” I echo against my will. Yes, Your Highness. “Yes, Your Highness.” This time, shame and anger burn, twin flames stoking my hatred for him.
He opens the door, but I don’t move.
“Does everything have to be so difficult with you?” he grumbles.
He forces me to enter the living quarters. Everything is exactly as we left it on the morning of Mae’s wedding. Dirty champagne flutes rest on the coffee table, empty bottles left discarded nearby, an ivory hairbrush in the armchair.
I grit my teeth as my body turns to face Marik.
He stands before me, posture ramrod straight.
“You will be able to move freely in here. You are not to leave, nor are you to harm yourself in any way. I’ll be back in a few days.
” He rests an ice-cold hand on my face and cups my cheek.
“And remember, darling, I’m here—” he taps the necklace resting at the base of my throat, “—and here,” he says, placing a gentle, cold kiss on my forehead.
The only thing I hear is the sound of my screams ringing inside my head.
Marik leaves me alone in my quarters for the next five days. I spend all five trying to break the necklace, but I can’t. So, I start trying to kill myself. But every time, Marik’s hold over me forces me to stop.
A knife rests in a wooden block on the kitchen counter, but my hand freezes when I reach for it. I fill the bathtub to the brim and hold myself under the water, but my body surges upward when my lungs begin to scream.
It’s a mercy that I’m allowed to cry.
On day twenty-five, Marik walks through the front door, startling me from my book. I was shocked when I opened it for the first time and my hands didn’t slam it shut. Apparently, I’m allowed to read. It’s been a small comfort, getting lost in worlds other than my own.
I sit up straight and watch him carefully as he strolls in.
The ebony crown sits on his head, complementing his all-black outfit.
“Honey, I’m home,” he says, dark eyes twinkling with the joke.
Bile rises up my throat. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.
” His bottom lip sticks out in a pout. “How about a walk?”
I brace myself, expecting to feel my body rise. But it doesn’t.
“Do you want to join me?” he asks, looking at me expectantly.
“Am I allowed to speak?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. Besides, I did say you could speak when spoken to, didn’t I?” His tone is pleasant. I can’t wait for the day I can rip his tongue out.
“My answer is no.”
“Suit yourself,” he says with a shrug, then leaves.
For the next nine days, he returns and asks me the same question. Every day, I say no. Until day thirty-five, when I give in and say yes. I haven’t felt the sun on my skin or the wind in my hair in over a month.
Marik’s brows rise infinitesimally at my acceptance of his offer, as if my response surprises him. “Let’s go then.”
I stand, already having grabbed a pair of shoes before his arrival. He glances down at them but doesn’t say anything. He leads us down the staircase and out the front door.
The sun is absent, but the soft caress of the breeze on my skin wraps around me like a friend. My skin is pebbled with goosebumps, but I savor every second. We stroll past guards in armor as black as midnight, a far cry from the forest-green uniforms they used to wear.
“I’m going to give you another chance,” Marik says.
“The kingdom thinks Mae is alive. I would like to keep that illusion. It benefits me and it benefits the kingdom. They already had to go through the loss of their dear High Family, didn’t they?
I’d hate to break it to them that the only living relative of the great King Silas is now dead. ”
My heart stutters at the mention of Mae’s death. No, her murder. I can’t decide if I want to drop to my knees and scream, or if I want to reach for Marik’s dagger and slit his throat. It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t be able to do either if I tried.
“Like I said, I can make you. However, it’s a lot easier for me if you just go along with it. Then I don’t have to worry about dictating your every move. What do you think?” His tone is maddeningly rational, like I’m the one who’s being completely unreasonable.
He’s right. He can make me, and there’s nothing I can do to fight him. I’ve been trying for thirty-five days. Whether I want to or not, he will put me on the throne and force me to pretend to be Mae.
I meet his gaze. “I think I’d rather die.”
On day forty-one, Marik bursts through my front door. Two guards follow him, dragging a body behind them. I shoot to my feet, but Marik throws out a hand and freezes me in my place.
The guards drag a young deer hybrid, maybe eighteen at the most. The body of a man, but facial features that haven’t been hardened by the world yet. He’s limp, his eyes closed. One guard holds him up while the other takes the male’s right hand and holds it to the wooden fireplace mantel.
Marik strides forward, gleaming metal in his hands.
A hammer in one.
Nails in the other.
He walks up to the male and places a nail in the center of his hand. He drives it into the mantel with one swoop of the hammer.
The male jerks, his eyes flying open as a singular scream cuts through the air.
A tear slides down my cheek as Marik forces me to watch the whole thing. He hammers the male’s left hand and then his feet into the ground.
Sobs wrack his body. My heart pounds against my ribcage. I reach for my magic to do something, but Marik’s hold on me is too strong.
He turns and points the hammer at me, hatred and fury gleaming in his eyes.
“You did this. You. I gave you every opportunity to play nice.” His face is flushed, and a lock of hair slips forward, brushing against his forehead.
“For every day you say no to me, I will nail another body to the walls. These people will die and I will force you to sit here and watch them. So, which is it? Are you going to do this the easy way? Or do you want to be responsible for people dying, just to spite me? Eventually, you’ll hate yourself even more than you hate me. ”
A tear cuts down my cheek and drops to the floor.
“Well?” he growls.
I look at him, at the hammer hanging loosely at his side, the wild look in his eyes. At the monster who killed Etta, who betrayed Mae, who has imprisoned me in the only places I’ve ever known—my home, and my body.
I meant it when I said I’d rather die than go along with his plan. But there is no way I can live with myself if the other option is innocent people dying. I meet his gaze, every muscle quivering in anger.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”