Page 13 of The Crowned Queen

No one came to help her.

The guards forced her down with rough hands, leather straps closing tight around her limbs. If she hadn’t been bound in iron, maybe she could have fought her way free. But the cold metal around her wrists and neck depleted her magic and sapped her strength.

She never had a chance.

Tears poured down Araya’s face as they moved around her, unfamiliar hands checking her restraints and stroking across her skin.

“Let’s get rid of the shift,” Kai’s father said. “He’ll need better access.”

“I’ll do it.” Caylin’s sneering face appeared above her, a sharp set of shears gleaming in her hand. “Pathetic. Crying like a little baby⁠—”

Araya cried out, flinching as a sharp blade scraped her rib. The thin shift parted like tissue paper, the snick of the shears slicing through the fabric too loud in the dark room. Cold air rushed over her skin, the ruined shift falling open and exposing her to their scrutiny.

An unfamiliar hand dragged across her skin, calloused fingers brushing the edge of her breast. “Such a lovely canvas,” Pryce murmured, his breath hot on her face.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” Jaxon snapped.

“Jaxon—” Araya twisted as far as the straps would allow, craning her neck to try and look at him. “Please don’t do this⁠—”

“I think we should gag her,” Rian Sterling said somewhere off to the side. “This begging can be very distracting for everyone involved. Yes, right there—thank you Jaxon. Secure her head too. Anything we can do to keep her stress level down will help in the healing process as well.”

Araya choked, gagging as Jaxon forced another leather strap between her teeth. Another band pressed against her forehead, forcing her head back against the bench. Her eyes rolled, finding Jaxon’s face above her. He wanted her to love him—he couldn’t possibly⁠—

“Hush, Starling.” His fingers trailed across her skin, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “You brought this on yourself.”

“Are you all sure this is a good idea?” Kai’s voice came from somewhere beyond her line of sight, hesitant and strained. “She looks very weak. How long has she been in iron?”

“Several weeks.”

Jaxon’s hands brushed Araya’s skin, the manacles falling away from her wrists with a dull clang. The collar around her throat followed, and for a heartbeat hope flared. If she could just reach her magic⁠—

But the dregs of aether she was left with after so long just prickled sluggishly under her skin like a limb waking from sleep. Useless.

“It won’t be pleasant,” Rian said, parchment rustling. “But she’ll survive. Here, Kai. I’ve prepared a list of the runes you’ll be using tonight.”

“But Father,” Kai protested. “I don’t even have my tools with me⁠—”

“I brought them. You’ll find everything prepared—infused inks, aether-binding needles. I even brought you a spare amplifier, since you forget yours so often.”

For a long moment, Kai didn’t answer. Araya couldn’t see his face—couldn’t look anywhere but up, the ceiling a blur of shadowed stone pressing down above her. Jaxon’s hand lingered near her temple, tracing slow, possessive circles against her skin—something that might have comforted her, before she’d learned what kind of man he truly was. Now the touch only made her stomach twist.

“Are you sure?” Kai’s voice wobbled, paper rustling. “Do we know what kind of effect this could have on her? I always thought mate bonds were as tied to their well-being as their magic⁠—”

“She’ll be fine.” Jaxon brushed a tear from her cheek. “She has me. I’m all she needs.”

“These aren’t common runes anymore, Kai,” Rian said when Kai didn’t answer. “It might be your only chance to get this experience. It’s an opportunity you can’t afford to waste if you intend to advance.”

“Right,” Kai said. “You’re right, Father. I’m sorry. I was…caught off guard.” He cleared his throat. “If you could all step back?”

“I stay,” Jaxon said, his gentle, stroking touches never faltering. “She’s my bond.”

“Fine.” Kai sighed. “But don’t get in the way.”

Tools clinked softly somewhere by her side. Araya flinched as something touched her hip—but it was only Kai, his fingers carefully mapping the fertility suppressant rune the Arcanum had carved into her skin at just nine years old.

“Sorry,” he murmured, so quietly she might not have heard it at all without her fae hearing. Louder, he said, “I’m going to start by removing the ta’nara rune.”

He turned away, saying something else to Jaxon—but Araya couldn’t hear over the rush of her own pounding heartbeat in her ears. She couldn’t get enough air, every breath sucked in around the leather strap that held her mouth open. The vanilla perfume of Jaxon’s soap clung to the air, mixing with the sharp tang of ink and blood. It filled her lungs, consuming her, the soft rasp of his fingertips across her skin promising that she would never, ever escape him. Not again.