Page 32 of Wings of Destruction

He’s the sort of meathead, muscle-bound basilisk’s rear I’ve learned to steer clear of. There are a few of them in the village, the morons who walk around with a cocky swagger boasting about their prowess both on the field and off.

They tend to travel in packs, one of them standing out from the rest, and the others falling in line behind him.

This lecher has his chest on display, and I hate the little cape over his shoulders. He’d look even better strangled with it, or maybe even made to eat the material. He should choke.

I haven’t decided what kind of punishment I’d like the dark one to receive. It has to be worse than physical violence. He seems like the type to brace for it, absorb the impact, and smile when he asks for another hit.

Ether forbid I give him what he wants.

It will need to be something thoughtful, unexpected. Cutthroat.

“We send her to DragonSpear,” the dark one says, “but as a servant.”

Tristan catches his breath.

“That way, she can watch the life she gave up when she chose the wrong side.”

Kieran’s order clangs through me and I lose my sight. Black and white stars dance in front of my vision and for a moment, his face is clouded by the spots.

“You can’t!”

The wrong side? What is he talking⁠—

“Your abuse tactics aren’t going to work.” I seethe, my body filled with emotion too sharp to pinpoint and too deep to shrug off. “You’re manipulative and abusive. I’m not going to DragonSpear. Not with you. Not with any of you.”

“Am I?”

He slides one hand down my arms and rests it at the base of my neck, squeezing my wrist tighter with the other. His entire body presses to mine, the pressure exacting but steady. He could strangle me or snap my neck with an angle change.

He wants me to know it.

“My cousin is right, you know. Pretty girls with too much fight do make the most interesting conquests. They break in such fascinating ways,” he says. “If you’d rather not go to DragonSpear, there’s always my offer of war prize.”

“You’ve already used that tactic on me.” I lean in closer.

He won’t do it.

“Let me assure you with certainty, if you try to force me, I will find a way to remove what makes you a man.”

I’ll do it with a smile on my face as well, to let him know I’m serious. Tears are there and pressing eagerly against the back of my eyes to escape. For some reason, there’s a block to it, which only makes the heavy throb in my skull worsen.

His eyes drop back to my lips, and the slight shattering of his cold features brands me.

I don’t belong to myself anymore. Not wholly.

The cave, which no more than thirty minutes earlier had been a sanctuary, is now a prison.

The children cry, hushed only by the frantic care of the farmers and elderly. I can’t look at them yet, unless I want attention in their direction. Everything I did, everything my mother died for, and we’re still here.

We’re still doomed.

Kieran smirks at me, which only angers me more. “I’d love to see you try. I never took you for the type who preferred an audience.”

“Do your worst,” I reply with an equally wide sneer. “Show me what kind of monster you really are.”

Not that I particularly want him to force himself on me. The thought clangs distantly through me without finding a place to land.

If the brunette and the blond changed positions, I know without a shadow of a doubt he’d do it. He’d take me in front of my people and his men and enjoy every moment of my humiliation.