Page 55 of The Crowned Queen

The wagon lurched forward again, rolling through the rough-hewn gate. Serafina kept pace with the wagon, one hand resting on the bars as it trundled forward.

“Is he alright?” she asked softly once they were clear.

“I have no fucking clue.” Naeva’s hands gripped his shoulders. “Loren, talk to us.”

“They’re torturing her.” His words came out slow and thick. Loren pressed his palm flat against the floor of the wagon, but it did nothing to stop the world from tilting around him. “I felt it. The knife⁠—”

“He needs to lie down,” Brynn said.

“He needs to stay upright until we’re through town,” Naeva answered. “Here, help me.”

They jammed him in the narrow space between them, holding him up with their own bodies as they rolled through town. Loren was only vaguely aware of people staring at them. How often did they see fae being transported to Elvanfal? It had been a good-size town the last time he’d been there, one where humans and fae lived and worked side by side. How many of his people were prisoners there now?

The bitter aftertaste of the tea lingered on his tongue. He’d never drank so much of it at once before. It had been enough to keep him from feeling what they were doing to her—but there was no amount of tea in this world that would keep him from remembering what it felt like.

After all, he’d lived it.

He would never forget how they layered the pain, drawing it out just enough to keep him conscious. The relentless rhythm of the cuts, interspersed with questions he had no chance of answering. He carried the scars to prove it across his entire body.

And now she would too.

“Loren?” Finn said, his voice careful. “We need you to stay with us. Just for a little bit longer.”

“I should be there,” he mumbled. “Not her.”

Your guilt does not help her, the shadows hissed.

They churned in the darkness beneath the bench, unnatural cold seeping through his boots. Brynn pulled her feet up with a squeak, watching frost spiderweb across the wood.

You locked her out. They lashed out, icy tendrils raking like claws across his skin. At the time she needs you the most⁠—

“Loren,” Serafina’s soft voice cut through the darkness. “The Shaws know how the bond works. They’re trying to provoke you into doing something rash. It’s horrible, but we knew they would escalate eventually. You’re doing everything you can.”

Was he?

Loren shook his head, unable to form the words he needed to respond. He didn’t know what he needed. Space. Air. Her. The iron weighed heavily on his wrists and neck, the wagon suddenly claustrophobic.

What kind of a king couldn’t even protect his own queen?

Chapter

Twenty

Every morning started the same.

Araya kept her eyes closed and her breathing even, pretending to be asleep as Jaxon moved around the tent getting ready for the day. She doubted he believed her act for a moment, but he never challenged her on it. It had been over a week since he took her to the cages and forced her to stare at what could become of her until her tears ran dry. The faces of the fae in those cages haunted her nightmares. There was nothing she could do to help them, but Araya still couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that something here was watching her—judging her inaction.

At least Jaxon hadn’t touched her since—not like that. That first night, Araya had curled up on her pallet and braced herself for the inevitable, expecting him to force her into his bed whether by compulsion or brute force. But all he’d done was toss a blanket over her, coldly ordering her to get some sleep.

And then in the morning he’d taken her to Caylin.

Jaxon’s footsteps crossed the tent, stopping so close to her face that Araya could smell the polish he used to keep that black leather so shiny. His hand settled on her shoulder, shaking her gently.

“Time to wake up, Starling,” he murmured. “You don’t want to make Caylin angry by being late do you?”

Araya’s breath hitched, betraying her ruse. She opened her eyes, ready for Jaxon to say something about it—but all he did was kneel beside her, fussing with the cuff around her ankle until it fell away.

“Go on,” he said, straightening. “Get yourself ready for the day. I laid a dress out for you.”