Page 89

This time, when Lawson speaks, he addresses the Obsidian Council members directly. “Now that you’ve seen proof, I believe you have enough evidence to find him guilty of all crimes. If you agree, I’d like your permission to carry out his sentence.”

We all know what the sentence for treason is, and I imagine what Lawson has just put him through is punishment enough for the crimes he committed against me. Still, I wait with bated breath for the Council to pass judgement.

A man sitting in the middle of the front row stands and removes his mask, and I’m shocked to see it’s someone I recognise. Reginald Gilson, Head of the Obsidian Order Council, who was also a friend of my dad’s before everything went to shit.

Reginald is an older man, probably in his early sixties, though he still looks quite good for his age, despite the small dad belly he seems to have grown since I last saw him a couple of years ago. He stands in the middle of the room, exuding confidence as he draws all eyes to him, and it’s clear why he’s the one with the most power, it’s been well-earned.

His voice is loud and booming, not a hint of uncertainty as he passes judgement for everyone to hear. “Pledge Nigel Higgsley, you have broken our most valued rule—the privacy that protects us. You broke the vow you made when you were initiated into Crowhurst House, letting down your fellow Crows in the process.

“You have put us all in danger by revealing our secrets, all because you wanted to brag your way between a whore’s legs. You then proceeded to drug and rape multiple women, something a true Order member would never need to do.

“You are a disgrace to the Obsidian Order. I vow you will be stripped of your title, the Crow ring sliced from your finger, and you shall face your punishment as the nobody you were before you betrayed the greatest gift we bestowed upon you.”

Reginald inclines his head towards Lawson, who stands beside Nigel once more. He unfastens the rope from around Nigel’s right wrist and holds up what remains of the man’s mangled hand.

After Lawson removed all the skin from his flesh, the silver-masked man with him must have put Nigel’s Crow ring back on, as it’s hanging loosely from what remains of his first finger, but wasn’t there before. It’s nothing more than bright pink flesh with hints of bone poking through, and my stomach rolls once more.

Lawson doesn’t choose simply to remove the Crow ring, even though it’s barely hanging on and could easily come off. Instead, he pulls his knife out once more and cuts off his whole finger. Nigel’s screams slice through the air, and bile rises in my throat as Lawson discards the finger onto the floor, whilst keeping hold of the ring that is an exact replica of the one he wears on his own right pointer finger.

Nigel is begging and pleading in between sobs, but I can’t make out what he’s saying, too lost to the pain. Not that anyone would listen to him, even if he were making sense. He’s made his bed, and now it’s time to lie in it.

Lawson hands the ring to Xander, who looks absolutely furious, his knuckles turning white as he tightens his hold on it. Both Xander and Lawson turn to face Reginald once more, who gives them a sadistic smile in recognition.

“Traitor, the punishment for your crimes is death. Lawson, as he touched your Prize without permission, and you are the High Crow, as well as the person to unveil his betrayal, I grant you the honour of choosing how he dies,” Reginald announces.

Lawson bows respectfully as Reginald takes his seat, before turning to face Nigel once more. He grabs hold of his greasy, blood-soaked hair again, dragging his head back until he’s forced to look at him with his only remaining eye.

“I was going to take your remaining eye, but I want to watch as the last bit of life leaves you, and I want you to watch as you lose everything,” Lawson spits, allowing a hint of emotion to bleed into his voice, before the mask slips back into place and he pulls out his knife again.

I lose track of how long Lawson tortures him, but by the end, a thousand tiny cuts cover every patch of Nigel’s skin, and a pool of crimson gathers beneath his feet as he bleeds out.

All the colour has drained from Nigel’s skin, and he’s so exhausted he can’t even cry anymore. The only thing keeping him upright is the bindings tying him to the chair, whilst Lawson jerking him regularly keeps him conscious.

I don’t know how Lawson decides when Nigel has suffered enough, or maybe he’s just done, but he moves to stand behind him, pulling his hair once more. I watch with sick fascination as Lawson slides the sharp blade across his throat, the flesh parting to reveal a river of blood as his neck slices open.

Sure enough, we all witness the last bit of light leaving Nigel’s remaining eye, as the blood flowing from the multiple wounds slows, with more of it on the floor than in his body. And despite it being fucking awful to witness, I breathe a sigh of relief knowing he’ll never be a threat to me—or any other woman—again.

Lawson stands beside Nigel’s body, covered in his blood, a cold, almost deadly expression on his face. I know I should be fucking terrified of the man standing before me, and the bloodlust he clearly enjoys, but that’s not at all how I feel. Strangely, I’m grateful for him getting revenge on my behalf, like he was, in some weird way, trying to protect me.

I don’t know if that’s my mind going crazy after everything I just witnessed, but I can’t deny how I feel. I push those thoughts aside when Lawson grabs hold of my arm, jerking me to my feet.

The room emptied while my mind wandered, leaving just me, Bram, and Lawson with Nigel’s corpse. As Lawson roughly grabs me, I jerk away on instinct, fear flashing through me as I look into the eyes of the cold-blooded killer he so easily became.

Lawson drops my arm straight away, hurt flashing in his eyes as he takes a small step away from me, suddenly looking like my Lawson again…but it’s too late. He saw how I reacted, and with the tape over my mouth, I’m not able to explain it was nothing more than a reaction.

Bram shuffles next to us, clearing his throat awkwardly as he says, “I’ll take care of the body. You can take the car. I’ll call some of the first-years to help, and we’ll take him to the graveyard out back.”

Lawson lets out a dark chuckle as he shakes his head. “It’s really fucking handy having a graveyard behind the Black Chapel where we can bury new bodies on top of old ones.”

If my mouth wasn’t taped shut, it would definitely be wide open right now. Of course, the Obsidian Order has its own fucking graveyard, and the Pledges know how to dispose of bodies. I don’t know why I’m even surprised.

Bram hands Lawson his keys and pulls out his phone to send a text, before moving towards the bloody mess that remains of Nigel. I look away, not wanting to see whatever he’s going to do next.

Lawson takes hold of my arm once more, only his touch is much more gentle this time, and he leads me towards the door that Nigel was brought in through.

He guides me along a corridor, turning twice before we reach another door. This opens to the outside, and as I step out, I look around to get my bearings.

We’re not in the car park, like I expected. Instead, we’re at the edge of the woods that run around the outskirts of the Shadowmere Campus. The cool night air hits me; the darkness letting me know we had been in the building long enough for the sun to have set and night to descend.