“Silence!” King Koran commands as he stands up.
Ronan grabs my arm and sidesteps, pulling me with him. He’s apprehensive now, and in protection mode with reason. Gone is the calm and benevolent aura the king displayed when we first met him. He looks dangerous and frightening. Shadows gather around his tall frame, and violent winds seem to circle him while his eyes crackle with a menacing power.
He walks across the bridge to the cage holding Lord Indigo, who looks up and cowers.
“Indigo of Lynx, my thirdborn, you’ve been accused of the most heinous crimes against our kingdom. You allied with the foulest creatures in the land and used your gifts to bring shame to our family.”
“You banished me. You gave me no choice!” Lord Indigo cries out.
“I banished you in the hope that you would see the error of your ways, repent, and return a changed male. But you choseto fall even harder into disgrace and conspired with an enemy of the crown. You helped one of the vilest criminals break the Accords and create portals to the mortal lands. You kidnapped vampires and bred them like cattle. Do you deny any of that?”
“Would it make any difference if I did?”
“No. You leave me no choice but to sentence you to die by the Shadow Claw.”
The audience gasps loudly, and sitting on her throne, the queen’s face drains of color. Whatever this death entails, it seems to be horrifying.
The king lifts his hand, signaling for the guards in the vicinity to approach. They open Lord Indigo’s cage and drag him out. The bound male struggles against their tight hold. “No, please, Father, don’t do this.”
The king stares at his son with an unyielding gaze, and even though I’m not on the receiving end of that look, I feel the weight of it nonetheless. Ronan wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him.
The guards attach the end of Lord Indigo’s chains to silver rings on the floor. At this point, the male is crying pitifully, his lean body shaking with the violence of his sobs. My middle is coiled tight, and apprehension makes my pulse accelerate. I’m grateful for Ronan’s presence more than ever. I don’t think I’d be able to stomach a public execution otherwise.
King Koran remains stoic, his face like marble and unmoving as he watches his son crumble. The guards move away from Lord Indigo after they verify his chains are secured. Silence falls over the audience like the prelude of doom. In the stillness, the pounding of my accelerated heart sounds too loud.
The king lifts his arms, turning his face up to the sky, and begins chanting in a foreign language. The floor beneath my feet vibrates, and a mysterious power brushes against my skin, probing and uncomfortable. I shiver, and Ronan’s fingers flexagainst my waist. The wind comes next from all directions, converging around King Koran in a maelstrom. The howling of the vortex muffles Lord Indigo’s whimpers, who’s on his knees with his head down. I know the worst is yet to come, but I can’t look away.
The wind becomes dark, transforming into shadows. They funnel above the king, and then they begin to shift. I watch, transfixed, as the darkness merges into lean haunches and tufted ears, and suddenly, what should have been fur becomes a void in the night sky. A giant lynx takes shape, but it moves wrong, jerking through space rather than crossing it.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God,” Ronan breathes out.
Lord Indigo’s head snaps up, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks against the blue of his irises as his lips part with a sharp intake of breath that never fully releases. “No…”
Shadow-sinews ripple across phantom muscles as the lynx bends its legs, ready to pounce. I grab Ronan’s arm, my anxiety reaching sky-high levels. The lynx growls, a haunting sound that rises from deep in its throat right before it attacks. Lord Indigo screams at the top of his lungs, the type of outburst that only people in the deepest agony are able to make. I expect his body to be torn into pieces, and yet he remains intact. He thrashes on the floor, battling a menace he can’t touch.
The phantom lynx’s attack continues in a vicious manner while King Koran watches impassively. I glance at the queen and Castiel. At least they aren’t standing there like two emotionless statues. Despite Queen Endaya’s resigned expression, tears streak her cheeks. There aren’t any tears on Castiel’s face, but it’s impossible to ignore his crestfallen expression. His brows are pinched together, and his teal-colored eyes are bright and glimmering with a soul-deep sorrow.
I return my attention to the bridge where Lord Indigo lies. The lynx’s form scatters and reforms with each strike untilLord Indigo is silent and his body goes still. The quietness in the amphitheater is absolute. King Koran raises his right hand, and the lynx he created loses its shape until it’s nothing but dark tendrils of smoke that rush into the king’s open palm and disappear as soon as they connect with him.
The bone-crushing pain that flares up in my chest robs me of air. Karl is at the forefront of my mind, and the fact that I don’t know his fate is all I can think about. A wild restlessness takes over my body—it’s my wolf, needing to break free. I sense the shift coming, and I won’t be able to stop it. I can’t let it happen here, where everyone’s emotions are on edge.
I step away from Ronan.
“Cher, what’s wrong?” he asks as his gaze searches mine.
“I can’t be here.” I bolt before he can stop me.
Forty-Two
RONAN
ELLNESARI, PRESENT DAY
Irun after Cheryl, not caring about decorum. Lord Indigo’s screams echo in my ears, even though the male is dead. I’ll never forget what I witnessed tonight.
I knew the trial would be hard on Cheryl. I guessed she was thinking about Karl and what he endured at the hands of his own father. The situation is completely different, though. Karl was innocent, unlike Castiel’s brother, who did commit all those awful crimes.
Cheryl doesn’t run far before I catch up with her. I spin her around and crush her to my chest, hugging her tight. I sense not only her emotions but her wolf’s as well. She curls her hands around my shirt, hiding her face from view, but her body is shaking. “That was awful.”
