“No one is taking her.” Kane lunges at the nearest guard, shoving him aside with his shoulder. The second guard doesn’t have time to react before Kane’s hands are on him. He loops the iron chains over the guard’s head, pulling them tight against his neck. The guard’s eyes bulge, his hands clawing at the chains as he struggles for breath.
The first guard regains his balance and charges. Kane twists, his muscles bulging, his veins like cords under his skin as he fends off the attack. He maintains his stranglehold on the other guard, whose heels slip and slideagainst the wet wood planks. Finally, he goes limp. Kane tosses the unconscious guard aside, the body landing with a thud that is almost lost in the roar of the crowd.
The first guard comes at him again, but Kane is ready. He swings his chained fists, catching the guard across the jaw with a bone-crunchingthwack. The guard’s head snaps back, his knees buckling as he crumples to the ground. The crowd’s roar reaches a fever pitch, fed by bloodshed.
The platform shakes as Kane charges forward, the chains swaying from his wrists. Rain pours from the sky, cold and relentless, soaking through my dress as he nears. My heart hammers, my breaths ragged, every detail of him etching itself into my memory. His intensity. The sheer force of his will. The rain in his hair, the sharp cut of his jaw, those endless dark eyes as they lock onto mine. The crowd’s noise fades to a distant murmur, life narrowing to just the two of us.
“You came back.” Kane’s voice is rough, choked with surprise and something deeper, something that makes my heart twist.
“Someone has to save you for a change.”
The tarot card pulses against my chest, a reminder of the magick that brought me here, that binds me and Kane together.
Rain slides in rivers across the hills of his muscled chest, and the rugged lines of his face soften as he reaches out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “I can’t believe you’re really here.” His fingers trace my jaw, and my entire body tingles.
“I couldn’t leave you.” I reach up, cupping his face with my hands, feeling the rain-slicked warmth of his skin beneath my fingers. “Not like this.”
I lift onto my tiptoes, my breath mingling with his as our lips meet. His mouth is warm against mine, and for a heartbeat, the world stops spinning.
The moment shatters as rough, meaty hands grip my shoulders, tearing me away.
I cry out, fighting against their grip, against being taken away from Kane as soon as I’ve found him again, but they’re too strong. Kane shouts, his chains clanking as he struggles, but even he can’t fend them off. Not when reinforcements have come and so many guards surround him.
A guard drags me backward, and I summon every ounce of strength to wriggle away from him. His sandpaper-rough hands scrape against my arms as I spin out of his wet grasp and rush to the edge of the platform. The crowd jeers and boos, but I raise my voice above them.
“Your kingdom is tearing itself apart!” I call out, my voice strong despite the fear cramping in my gut.
The guard recovers, seizing me by my bicep with bruising force. I know I’ll have marks to remember this by—if I manage to stay alive long enough.
I take a deep breath, my thoughts spinning. I need to buy time.
“Pentacles deserves better,” I continue, struggling against the guard’s hold. “You deserve better.”
The guard’s grip tightens, and he yanks me across the stage like a rag doll.
The crowd’s noise is a constant roaring wave, but I press on, raising my voice even louder. “I know you’re angry. I know you’re afraid. You should be. You were forgotten. Worse than that, you were treated like a burden. Lied to. Manipulated.
The crowd’s shouts have quieted to a murmur. I have their attention, and I need to keep it.
I push forward, sending up a silent hope that Marion and McDougall are close. “It’s not too late to force them to see you as human, to save your kingdom and one another. You’ve been living this nightmare for too long.”
The hesitant hush shatters, and my fragile hold on their attention slips when a voice strikes out. “The warrior used his magick to curse the kingdom! He poisoned Pentacles from the inside.”
My heart pounds as I search for the man who spoke, but the faces blur together—angry, hungry, afraid.
“Lies!” Kane is cut short by a swift punch to his stomach that makes him double over, gasping for breath.
“Cut off his head!” another spectator shouts, shrill and vicious. “And his whore’s!”
A murmur of agreement turns into an uproar. I try to raise my hands to quiet them, to regain some kind of control, but the guard pins them to my sides. “They’re lying to you! Kane’s magick is a gift. He’s not your enemy. He’s—”
“Spill both their blood!” another person roars, and the crowd erupts into chaos.
A guard flanks Kane and slams his boots against the back of Kane’s knees until he cries out through gritted teeth and drops in front of the pillory.
My gaze frantically scans the crowd and the private boxes for any sign of Marion or McDougall.
Instead, Ivy’s eyes meet mine straight on. She crosses her arms over her chest, a triumphant sneer curling her lips while she looks down at me with cold satisfaction.
