Page 151 of Revealing Fate

“Order! I demand order!” Stef shouted. He may as well have been whispering into a hurricane. He turned pleading eyes to Beulah, but she was rushing across the square to her children.

Penn gripped a bow with white knuckles. Someone knocked into his sister, and he shoved them away with more strength than Felíne would have thought he possessed.

It was like Cindamar all over again. The panicked crowd, the shouts and disorder. Except this time, Felíne was the one standing on the stage, the people she cared for beside her.

Movement and harried breathing drew her attention. Felíne turned in time to see Lucien Cross heave himself up onto his good leg. He’d maneuvered himself behind Kal, keeping away from another kick. Lucien latched on to Kal’s shoulder, steadying himself, the heavy iron bar offering a barrier between them.

Adder snarled behind Felíne’s other shoulder. “Get off, you bloody leech.”

Lucien gripped the bars of Kal’s skullcage with surprising strength, wrenching his head back. He fit a metal implement into a socket on the backside of the collar. Kal swore and shook his body like a lion attempting to dislodge a jackal. But Lucien would not be deterred. He cranked the implement.

Metal screeched. Kal’s collar tightened.

Horror, unlike anything Felíne had ever known, descended upon her. She shrieked. “Get off him!”

Lucien cranked it again. Iron barbs dug into the skin at the base of Kal’s throat. Kal thrashed. “You fucking⁠—”

Crank.

Kal’s words cut off. His face contorted in fury.

“I will be rid of you, Kaine. Rid of you at last,” Lucien panted, clinging to Kal’s shoulders. His ruined leg crunched sickeningly beneath him. The man grimaced, expression manic. “I had everything before you.”

Crank. Iron pierced Kal’s neck. Blood trickled from the wounds.

“Stop!” Felíne had never felt such panic. Such utter helplessness.

“I had favor. Friendship. People listened to what I had to say. I had power.”

Craaank.

“Divine curse you!” Adder howled. “Fucking curse you, Cross!”

Felíne threw herself against her bonds. The metal of her own skullcage dug painfully into her neck. Her wrists and shoulders wailed in agony. She didn’t care. Desperation lashed at her with tongues of fire.

“I was important,” Lucien bit out.

“Stop it!” She sobbed, chains rattling, metal screaming. “Stop! You’re killing him!”

One more twist of that barbaric length of iron and the man she loved would be no more. Lucien glared at her over his shoulder, face pale, eyes wild with pain and exhilaration. “Don’t worry,” he assured her with a grimace. “You’ll not be long behind him.”

Lucien gripped the metal implement for the final turn.

Felíne screamed.

A terrible gurgling filled Kal’s throat. Blood flowed, staining the collar of his shirt.

Then Lucien Cross’s grip slackened. His brown eyes went unfocused, lids blinking, brows furrowing in confusion. His mouth gaped and released a terrible, torturous yowl.

He crumpled. Behind him, Santhe yanked her dagger from his flank as he dropped like a stone. Blood, bright and copious, stained the planks of the platform in a curtain. Felíne sagged, another sob hitching in her throat.

“Quickly, Santhe,” Adder barked. “Loosen the wrench.”

Santhe dropped the dagger. It clattered to the floor next to Lucien’s still body. She flung the piece of metal fixed to the rear of Kal’s skullcage in the opposite direction. The collar relaxed, and Kal hauled in a lungful of air.

At least, he tried to.

Kal made a choking sound, and Felíne’s world broke apart. Kal slid to the ground, the wounds in his neck pulsating with each desperate beat of his heart.