Chapter 25
My knees bowed, the blow to my system after the rush of ecstasy just moments earlier quivering my legs. I choked in the tainted air, my mind trying desperately to put the pieces together.
“White Raven,” Brynden addressed me, his head bowing. “I knew I would find you.”
Brynden Blaxhall. The man whom, if Onyx hadn’t stepped in, I would be married to. Living a simple life in his village as his wife, possibly already pregnant with his child.
A shiver crept up my spine at the notion. That life, that version of me, was as foreign as this land, as though it was never my fate. I didn’t mourn it, didn’t wish for it instead, yet my life here was in peril at every moment.
My attention shot to Gavric. “What is he doing here?”
“I thought you would like your gift.” A smug smile widened his mouth. “A little touch of home.”
“Let him go.”
“Now why would I do that?” King Helvig stepped up to me, the scent of wine wafting heavily off him. “A little birdy told me he was who your father sold you off to marry.”
I fought to hide my flinch, the truth in his statement. Grinding my teeth, I didn’t look away. “I think of Morrigan more as a rat.”
The king grinned at my comment, his inebriated gaze sparking with my challenge.
“Call it jealousy, but I wanted to meet the young man my wife was intended for,” he muttered to me, brushing strands of my hair back as if he were a loving husband. “Especially since he came so far to claim you back, my dove.”
“What?” My attention shot down to Brynden, his gaze going back and forth between me and the king, his expression a mix of confusion and determination.
“He came to rescue you, like some dreary prince,” the king replied snidely. “He was quite insistent.”
“My father sent you?” I swung to Brynden, hope blooming in my chest.
“I volunteered, my White Raven.” Brynden dipped his head at me. “I told him I would bring you back home.”
“Isn’t that romantic?” Gavric wrapped his arm around me from behind, his tongue dragging up my neck in a clear display. “A knight in shining armor. He must really love you.”
“Don’t touch her!” Brynden snapped, wrestling against his guards’ hold as if he could fight them all.
“My father sent no one else?” I asked.
“No one,” the king purred in my ear. “I had my Night Hunters track and search all day for any others. He came all alone.”
I swallowed.
“I told our fathers I would not give up until I got you back,” Brynden stated firmly. Everything about him came off as na?ve and simple. “Bring you home safe. And then we could marry.”
King Helvig’s laughter filled the room. He saw what I did—Brynden was a foolish man.
The flutter of hope singed to ash, dropping dead in my stomach. My father was brilliant and strategic. He would never send in someone so untrained and imprudent to retrieve me alone.
Brynden was being used as a pawn in a game of chess.
And I was the queen.
“How awkward . . . if I only would have known you were coming to save the day.” The king grasped my ring finger, holding it up. “I would have waited to marry her until you arrived. I hate that you came all this way for nothing.”
Brynden blinked, noticing it for the first time. His attention locked on the wedding band; the Night Raven crest coiled around my finger like a collar.
“What?” His mouth parted, head shaking back and forth. “No.” He lifted his face to mine, hoping to hear rejection of this claim.
“Would you like me to fuck my wife right here in front of our wedding guests to prove it?” Gavric grasped my chin, lifting it to show his painted mark down my chest, too drunk to notice the symbols were smeared, showing the ones underneath.
Brynden wouldn’t perceive any difference, though, understanding only that my body was claimed by another man. To someone like him, that was the deepest betrayal to his idealistic view of marriage.
Horror and pain shot through Brynden’s features. “No. This can’t be. Tell me he is wrong, my White Raven.”
“Yes, tell him, dove.” Gavric’s hand squeezed my breast, his chin propped on my shoulder, enjoying the taunt. “Tell him how I’m going to ravage you tonight, spew my seed so deep inside you, you’ll be carrying my child before the moon is waxing.”
Brynden’s expression went from shock to outrage.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” He fought fruitlessly against the soldiers, spitting and seething like he was playing the hero. “She is my wife! She is meant for me! I vowed never to stop until I brought her back home!”
“Technically, she is mine.” Gavric slid his hand down my waist, cupping my dress between my thighs. “This is mine.” My spine went rigid, dread at him finding my undergarments were missing.
“It doesn’t count,” Brynden argued. “It is not lawful.”
“It isn’t?” the king’s tone mocked. “Even though the same seer who was going to recite your vows performed ours?”
“What?” Brynden jerked as Morrigan rose from her seat near the throne. I could see his eyes widen, turmoil scrolling over him, not understanding how my father’s seeress stood next to the Night King.
“You—you forced her!” he raged, nodding at Morrigan. “She had to do it!”
“Did I force you?” He let me go, stepping to the seer.
“No, my lord.” She smiled.
“You think me a fífl? She has to say that!”
“Oh, I think you are a very skillful half-wit.” Gavric grabbed the back of the seer’s head, yanking her to him, their mouths crushing together, hungrily kissing. She rubbed against him, moaning loudly, looking like she’d love him to take her right here, getting off on us watching.
Gavric pulled away, peering at my ex-betrothed. Brynden stood still, both stunned and traumatized, as if his brain could not understand deceit like hers. Or a husband so blatantly insulting his wife.
“I am bored with you, boy.” Gavric licked his lips, snapping his fingers.
Solvi rushed to his side, handing him another fresh goblet of wine and claiming Gavric’s attention for a moment.
The king’s desirous gaze slid over his bare chest to his cock showing through the thin trousers.
“I have much more interesting things to do tonight.”
He licked his lips, turning to me.
“As my wedding souvenir to you, wife . . .” He clasped his hands. “Which body part would you like to send back to your father, letting him know about his new son-in-law?”
“What?” My head snapped to the king.
“I thought I would let you choose.” He took a step down to Brynden. “He’s quite handsome, maybe send his head?”
“No.” Panic rushed into my ears. “Please. Let him go.”
“Let him go?” Gavric frowned, his hand dramatically over his heart. “How can I sleep at night knowing your ex-lover is out there threatening our marriage every day? Vowing to never stop until you are his again?”
“He’s innocent in this.”
“Innocent?” The king huffed. “Do you expect me to believe your father sent this child to bargain for you without something else planned?”
“It was my decision.” Brynden bristled. “The king could not stop me.”
My father had the power to do anything. He let Brynden come.
“Makes you even more a fool,” Gavric replied, gesturing to his guards. They drew their weapons to his neck. “Killing him would be doing this world a favor. We have too many idiots with conviction these days.”
“Please, my lord.” I could hear the begging in my tone.
I didn’t know Brynden very well, but I still didn’t want him to die.
He had a family, a mother who would mourn, and siblings he cared about.
He didn’t deserve death because he unwisely stepped into something beyond his scope.
He was unworldly and sweet, not meant to get caught up in this game.
“I beg you,” I pleaded. “Let him leave here alive.”
The king twisted his head to me. “How much is your ex-lover’s life worth?”
Tears clogged my throat, but I held them back, knowing what my fate already held.
“Whatever you deem, my lord.” I lowered my head in submission.
“At least you understand the rules, my dove.” A wicked grin stirred his mouth, his lips stained a deep red color.
“You touch her, and I will kill you!” Brynden barked, glowering at the Night King, his drive for honor overriding intellect.
My lids shut, swallowing roughly, before they popped back open at the sound of metal zinging.
Gavric ripped a dagger from his belt. A cry stuck in my throat as he rammed his blade into Brynden’s face.
The sick sound of flesh, nerves, and muscle being ripped through gushed into my ears.
Brynden’s screams of agony howled off the walls and ceiling, dropping him to his knees as the Night King yanked back his weapon, blood spraying over me in droplets.
Impaled on the tip of Gavric’s knife, nerves and veins dangled off in clusters around Brynden’s gored eyeball.
“This way you can keep an eye on my wife at all times.” He leaned over Brynden, yanking his head back.
Blood poured from the empty socket, a web of shredded muscles and nerves, the sight burning vomit up my throat.
“Tell your king his daughter is in good hands now with her husband. And to prepare to accept me as his king.” He roughly pushed him to the side.
Brynden slumped to the ground, his teeth gritting, snarling at the king, vomit pooling down his chin.
“Make sure he returns to the Day Realm. I want my message received loud and clear,” he ordered the guards around him. “Now get him out of here. He’s ruining my wedding celebration.”
The guards swiftly lifted Brynden up, dragging him out of the room as he wailed in agony, my name on his lips.
Gavric turned to me, popping the eyeball off his blade and dropping it at my feet.
“A souvenir.” He leaned into my ear, kissing my temple, the threat weaving around like a noose. “I told you my reach was far. And there is nothing I won’t do to keep my wife protected.” He brushed by me, heading for his throne, grabbing another cup of wine.
My legs bowed under me, sinking me to the ground in a silent sob. My hands shook as they skated over the droplets of blood smearing the purity of the white gown, the symbol of the White Raven stained.