Page 82 of Unmasked

The

Door!

Open!

Open!

Ahhhh!”

My fist pounded into the wooden door, and I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Exhaustion didn’t exist. Pain didn’t deter, not when the agony I felt on the inside was more powerful than the bruises and cuts covering my body.

I collapsed to the ground, still hitting. Still putting my weight into the wood.

Betrayed. … By my own Magister. By my own Judic. By my guard.

They spoke of safety. For them. For me.

But what of the safety for my Intended? For… my child?

No child. Not anymore.

Lord Summerlyn had told me of the blood. Of the miscarriage he’d witnessed when they’d prepared her for bed back at Glenbrae. My Reeve… dead. Mark, dead.

My child… My heir… My first….

Dead.

Dead like King Lawrence was going to be.

Dead.

“Open!

The!

Door!”

Another yell left me. I pushed to my feet, moving back and crashing into the barrier. The force caused a pop, and my arm went limp. Pain exploded, and I yelled out, but that only had me lifting my limb into place so I could slam into the door again to fix it.

The anguish dropped me as it popped back into place.

Tears.

I would have never thought someone as unfeeling as me could hold so many tears.

I was going to kill him.

Not if. Not when.

He was already dead.

I’d drag out his death so long and violently that there’d be no one in the world who didn’t know the details of how horrific it was. Men—men like me—like him—would have nightmares at hearing my name. I’d show them. I’d show them all.

“Open!

Now!

Open!”