Chapter 24 - Roar of the Lioness
In the moments when my heart should have been beating, I could only focus on three thoughts.
My breasts were bare. I had been poisoned with Cupid’s Blood. Anders Hyton was dead.
I sat on the couch with my arms over my naked chest. I was too stunned to move, even as the palace guards approached Derrick.
Derrick…the new Duke of Lycaster.
The guards placed their hands on Derrick’s arms but he jerked away. “What are you doing? Get off me!”
“Orders from the General,” one of the guards replied. “We have to keep you safe while we investigate Alastar XI’s death.”
The color drained from his face as he put everything together. His shock made him compliant and the guards wrapped their arms around his back.
I should have said something, anything, but my body was still frozen.
Derrick’s throat trembled as he swallowed. “At least let me say goodbye to my mother.” The guards forced him out the door. “Let me see my mother before it is too late!”
The guards ignored his desperate plea and suddenly my fire awoke in my chest.
I had to get him to Freya before her blood bond sent her into Death’s arms.
I swung my legs off the chaise and tried to get up, but my legs refused to move. The room spun and my stomach churned. I gripped the edge of the couch and slammed my eyes shut as I forced myself not to vomit.
“Lis!” Derrick shouted down the hall. “ Lis! Find Mama!”
I shoved myself off the chaise. I stumbled, but picked up my starry skirt and ran out of the room.
No time to put the rest of my clothes back on.
I gripped the doorframe as I tried to find my balance again. A narrow passage had opened at the end of the hallway. Derrick’s face peeked over the blue uniform of the guard’s shoulder as his eyes found mine.
“Serafina, find my mother!” His voice cracked and his eyes glistened. “Tell her I love her. Please!”
The guard sealed the passage shut, the brocade wallpaper masking any seams in the wall.
Though I had no idea where the guards were taking Derrick, there was no point chasing them through the maze in the walls when Freya had minutes left.
My bare feet pounded on the tile in the hallway as half dressed monsters in paper and lace masks ran screaming past me. I shoved my way through the oak doors and raced across the empty ballroom.
“Freya!” I cried, scanning the ballroom that was littered with glass bottles and discarded masks.
Maybe she was in the garden. I pushed on the glass doors leading to the garden and ran out into the summer air.
“Frey—!”
My lips froze in a silent scream. Anders Hyton was skewered on the right golden horn of the rearing bull statue—impaled through the stomach like he had fallen out of the sky. His unmasked face was frozen in eternal surprise as he faced the moonless night.
I trembled as my eyes followed the trails of blood that ran down the stone bull.
My stomach twisted and my throat burned. I bent over on the stone steps and retched. My sickness was purple and slimy as it rolled down the steps toward the gored Anders Hyton.
My throat burned as if I had vomited molten iron. Tears ran down my face as I released the Cupid’s Blood from my body.
It tasted worse than anything I had ever experienced. The poison coated my tongue with the bitter sting of shame.
Derrick’s mouth had been on me…and in me. How could I have let it happen?
I heaved and shook as the last of the Cupid’s Blood left my body. Standing on shaky limbs yet seconds away from breathing fire, I slowly raised my eyes at the corpse of Anders Hyton. I spat out the last remnant of the poison from my mouth.
Good fucking riddance.
I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and ran back into the ballroom. I ran up the stairs toward the Duchess’s dressing room when a shrieking roar echoed through the hall.
I shoved open the dressing room door and immediately found Freya sitting on a couch. Her curls trembled around a radiant golden crown. Her pink robes were soaked with crimson at her belly and blood pooled at the hem around her ankles. Amethyst and Sapphira were holding her hands. Emeralda, Pearl, and Rubia—unmasked but still in their gauzy costumes from the ball —knelt beside her and gripped her robes as they wept their final goodbyes.
“Bri-etta?” Freya choked, her eyes still squeezed shut. Black streaks ran down her cheeks as her makeup mixed with her tears. Blood dripped from her mouth.
“No, Mama,” Amethyst said in a breath.
I ran forward, stopping before I stepped in the growing puddle of blood. “Derrick loves you, Freya. Your Midnight wanted me to tell you he loves you.”
The door flew open and Annalisa ran in, pulling an unmasked Brietta by the arm. “Mama! I got her!”
“Freya!” Brietta shrieked. She knelt beside Freya and blood stained her knees. “How can I—what can I—?”
Freya peeled open her eyes and her whole body shook. Blood stained her teeth. “My desk. Find the letter. You know where.”
Brietta nodded as tears rolled down her cheeks.
I waited for Annalisa to join us as we helped Freya into the next life, but instead she quietly crossed the room. Garnet, the only person other than Annalisa not dressed in a costume for the ball, silently wept in the far corner. Annalisa gently took her older sister by the hands and led her over to us. “Come on, Gar. We need you too.”
Annalisa and Garnet stood behind their formidable mother as she rattled with her final breaths. Annalisa had one arm around Garnet and then she threw the other around Sapphira’s shoulders. The rival sisters’ foreheads touched as they leaned into each other.
“You can rest Freya,” Brietta whispered as she blinked out tears. “We will take it from here.”
The door flew open again and a group of palace guards rushed in.
“Duchess! Come with us,” one of the guards ordered.
My heart jumped as the guards wrapped their hands around Brietta’s forearms.
“Let her go!” Freya roared, shaking as she forced herself onto her feet. “I still breathe, damn you!”
Brietta’s brown eyes went wide as the guards led her out of the room. She did not even bother fighting them off.
I had never seen Brietta look more afraid.
My head whipped around as Freya crashed into the pool of her blood. Seven pairs of arms surrounded her failing body—embracing her with the love of seven hearts.
My white flame ignited. Power surged through my veins.
“I got her,” I said as my final promise to Freya Hyton.
Suddenly the magic in my body trembled as a wash of cold passed through me. The ragged breaths that skittered across the pool of blood stopped.
Death had come…and had taken Freya.
I forced back tears and ran into the hallway, focusing on the two young guards on either side of Brietta’s arms. As soon as her frightened eyes met mine, my white flame twisted and bent, morphing into something bigger and stronger.
No matter how hard I clung to it, manipulated my way to get it, or craved it until my heart ached, I kept losing my control. I lost control with the Cupid’s Blood and the faerie dust. I lost control when Ganora took Riyan. I lost control when Nordingaard stole my brothers.
And I was tired of losing control. If I could not hold onto it, I would just take it.
My chest was ablaze with righteous fury. Power sparked in my fingertips. The tears in the air vibrated as I reached out my arm. “Let her go!”
The guards turned their heads. “Orders from the Gen—”
Each guard stopped, their mouths falling open and their eyes dropping to my breasts. The tiny pinholes of light shone between their eyes as their mental doors opened, beckoning me in.
I took advantage of their ogling eyes and twisted my hand, the tears in the air braiding into an invisible rope between their minds and my mouth. This was not a connection of empathy, it was one of pure control.
Their minds were mine. Mine.
My throat quivered as if my words were quiet thunder. “I am the Duchess’s greatest friend. I will keep her safe for the General.”
The invisible tether vibrated as it sent the message to the guards’ inner selves. Each blinked, one after the other, as if they accepted the enchantment.
“ The Duchess is safe, ” echoed sleepily in their minds.
A satisfied smile raised my cheeks. “You did your job well. Now report to the General.”
The guards gently released Brietta. They shuffled along the carpet like their feet were as heavy as boulders. They passed me, slowly blinking with soft smiles on their faces.
My vision blurred as I held the tether over their minds. My heart pumped that white-hot power through my veins, but my muscles ached from the intensity.
As soon as they turned the corner, I released my magic with a soft gasp. Brietta ran over and grabbed me before I collapsed. She heaved me up and ushered me into the Duchess’s bedroom.
The door slammed shut and the lock clicked. I dropped onto the plush cushions of a couch as pain screamed through my muscles.
I peeled open my eyes and caught my reflection in a gilded mirror across the room. The weight of the shame crashed onto my shoulders as my eyes flitted from my smudged black makeup to each mark Derrick had left on my arms and chest.
That was the powerful sorceress—nothing more than the new Hyton whore.
Tears lined my eyes. My chest rattled with a sob. How could I have let it happen? I had more power than most women, most people, in the world and I still fell. I still succumbed to the poison.
A fist wrapped around my chest. I suddenly could not breathe.
If Riyan knew…if he only knew how weak I really was. He never would have given his life for mine.
I could leave, no, I should leave. Brandt could come from the guard house and take me away from this wretched palace for good. I could disappear and no one would have to bear witness to my shame. My guilt. My failure.
Warm water caressed my arms as Brietta wiped off the scarlet stains with a rag. Her own lip paint was smeared, but her mouth was shut tight as she cleaned me.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as my chest shook. “C-Cupid’s Blood,” I sobbed, giving Brietta a sorry explanation for my emotional state. “Anders…he…”
“I should have stayed with you,” she whispered. She moved the rag to the other arm, but did not look me in the eye. “This is my fault.”
“No,” I hiccupped. It was my fault. My fault. “I had too much faith in myself. I should have resisted more.”
Brietta moved the rag up to my neck. “Fighting would have done nothing. Cupid’s Blood is just…very strong.”
And I was supposed to be stronger.
A bead of water trickled between my breasts and magic twinkled against my skin. What was the point of magic if it failed me when I needed it the most? What was the point of having power if someone could just take it away?
Brietta offered me the damp rag and her eyes flicked down to my hips. “Are you hurting?”
“No,” I sobbed. “He was…good to me. We did not even do… everything. ”
Her auburn brows knitted. “You remember?”
I nodded. My magic held onto the memory of every ounce of shameless pleasure I had drenched myself in.
“I…I wanted it,” I said. “I had always wanted it…but not like that. Not when Anders forced…”
Brietta put the rag in a nearby porcelain bowl. “Derrick has no idea, does he?”
I shook my head. Derrick never saw me drink the poison, and from his view, what was there to suspect? I had spent seven years showing him I was in love with him. I kissed him at his birthday party. I sat in his lap while he played the harp.
Giving in to desire was expected because I had made him expect it.
My throat was sore from sickness and shame. “I made him want me. This is my fault.”
“Serafina, no!” Brietta’s shining eyes finally met mine. “Do not say this is your fault!”
“I am supposed to be saving Riyan, repaying him for what he gave me,” I cried. “But every day, I fail. I am not a powerful sorceress, or a Baron, I am just another stupid whore!”
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and her auburn waves brushed against my sticky cheeks.
“ Never call yourself that,” she commanded. “You did nothing wrong.”
But her voice broke. The magical tears sparkled in the water on my chest as Brietta’s skin brushed against mine. Her bosom heaved and suddenly I heard parchment flipping in my mind.
The door to Brietta’s inner self slowly creaked open.
The flipping parchment got louder. Brietta may have always been an open book, but she had glued some of her pages together, hiding her own shame.
A swirl of magic pulled me toward Brietta’s open door. I closed my eyes and eased into the memory written in those glued pages.
Yellow wallpaper formed the cage of the memory. Brietta heaved into a bowl, getting the last of the Cupid’s Blood out of her stomach. The purple sludge in the bowl blurred as tears filled her eyes.
Freya rubbed her back. “You did nothing wrong, Brietta.”
“I betrayed my friend,” she cried. “I do not remember, but I…I hurt her.”
Brietta rubbed away her tears and Freya’s face came into focus. Freya’s glacial blue eyes shone like glass.
No, not glass…a mirror.
Freya’s voice was gentle as wool but sharp as a blade. “I will stop this. We will stop this. Never again.”
Brietta’s lips trembled as she repeated, “Never again.”
I left the memory like an exhale, closing the book on that chapter. I returned to my body and pressed my cheek into Brietta’s skin.
“You did nothing wrong, Brietta,” I whispered. “You never did.”
Brietta’s arms trembled. A tear hit my shoulder. Then another.
Her mask of quiet confidence finally came off as soon as the first muffled scream tore from her throat. She cried into my hair and I cried into hers, unleashing the roars of two wounded beasts held on chains.
We apologized to each other over and over, understanding each other in a way we never wanted to.
A door clicked open and Brietta and I looked up. Annalisa had walked in from the dressing room. Her face was white and her dress was stained red.
She looked at us like she was looking through us. “They took Mama. The funeral is at sunrise.”
Her hands flew to her face and she sobbed.
Before I could get up to comfort her, a bell tinkled in the air. Magnus rubbed against Annalisa’s legs and let out a soft meow.
Annalisa pulled her hands from her tear-stained cheeks. “Go away, Magnus!”
Magnus prowled over to the dressing room door. He meowed and scratched at the door, swishing his fluffy tail.
“She is gone, damn it!” Annalisa cried. “Mama is gone!”
I got up from the couch and held her as she sobbed. She did not even care that I was half-naked, she clung to me like I was driftwood in the open sea.
I looked past Annalisa’s curls to find Brietta at Freya’s desk, reading a piece of parchment. Brietta’s eyebrows knitted and she placed her hand over her mouth.
She softly walked over and handed me the letter. I rubbed Annalisa’s back as I examined it. The letter was addressed “To the new Duchess of Lycaster” and was sealed not with the seal of the House of Hyton, but with a beautiful fuschia wax with a lioness emblem.
“Freya’s personal seal,” Brietta softly explained.
I gently unfolded the letter and read:
Brietta,
Anders was never going to sign a reformation. My Midnight always held our liberation. Do NOT give him an heir until he releases all women of Lycaster from bondage—that is your only power over him.
Yes, I knew I would never see my own freedom, but my dream was dead until I met you. You will be Lycaster’s salvation.
You are no longer kittens. You are lionesses.
Stay strong.
The parchment crinkled in my hand as I read the lines over again. That was not a letter Freya had in her desk just in case of her demise. She wrote that letter knowing her time was coming, and soon.
But how soon?
Annalisa’s sobs calmed as I handed the letter back.
Brietta’s once sorrowful eyes gleamed with determination. “Derrick is going to change the laws. The Baron council may resist, but the Duke has the ultimate say.”
“Ultimate say?” Annalisa yelled. She pushed away from me and faced Brietta. “Do you two have any idea how much pressure he is up against now? The Barons will not just let him—!”
“I do not care what the Barons say.” I rose to my feet as my fire raged beneath my ribs. “Derrick will sign a reformation and he will free Fraleigh.”
Annalisa’s lip curled into a sneer. “And how do you know—?”
“I make him want it.” I splayed my fingers and all the magic in the air awoke at my command. “Brietta keeps her womb empty and I whisper into his mind until he gives us everything we want.”
Annalisa’s brows knitted and her lip trembled, but she bent down to pick up Magnus. She nuzzled into his thick fur and choked on her last sob.
We changed out of our costumes, throwing the blood stained fabric in a pile on the floor—hopefully to be burned. We slipped on Freya’s nightgowns and fell into the Duchess’s large bed.
The three of us clung together in the center of the mattress with me in the middle. I shifted my head on the soft down pillow and stared at the canopy as my friends slept.
The soft scent of powder and lavender perfume clung around the collar of the nightgown. Freya had just laid in that bed not even a full day ago, and we were what was left in her place.
A new Duchess, a heartbroken daughter, and a…
I let out a breath and closed my eyes. I tried to push it away, but the word echoed in my mind like a scream:
Whore.
I opened my eyes again, staring at the dark canopy above me. Freya did not want Brietta to feel this way. Brietta did not want me to feel this way.
And I never wanted anyone else to feel this way ever again.
I could no longer just run around the palace chasing Ilsa’s ghost or Riyan’s memories. The game had started all over again. This time, I was not going to manipulate Derrick into giving me the Duchess’s crown, I was going to get him to change the world for me.
Derrick wanted me, he desired me, and he would kneel only for me. I had his heart, I just needed his head.
Being Derrick’s friend was not enough. If I were to get close enough to bend his will, I needed to become his mistress.
Just like my mother.
I let out a breath. No, not like my mother. I was finally in control.
I was no whore—I was a fucking lioness.