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“That I am, but I am so much more too.” I smirk as I lean into him, feeling my men move closer. “I’m your worst nightmare. I’m here to judge you and your court, and you, my king,” I purr. “You have been weighed and have been found wanting.”
“What do you mean?” He watches me, fear entering his eyes as I continue to effortlessly thrash him with my power, and my kings reveal themselves at my side.
“I mean that your court and your sick, twisted games are going to end tonight. Ironic, isn’t it, that the man you tried to ruin is now the one coming back to do just that? Now be a good boy and sit there silently.” I pulse my power into him, sealing his mouth and binding him to his throne he loves so much.
He lived upon it, and now he will die upon it.
Standing, I notice Azul’s torturer, Cassandra, has stopped and is looking from me to her king. I flick my fingers, and she flies through the air, away from my mate. “She is his. Everyone else is fair game,” I tell them as I glance over at my men. “Consult with Azul, but I’m sure he will agree.”
The matching grins on their faces are sinister and hungry.
They might be judges, but tonight we all feel the glee of killing the people responsible for Azul’s pain. Maybe the god of death was right and I am dangerous, because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for my judges, for my kings, including breaking my oath. It just so happens that tonight, my duty and my desires align.
“Change,” I order as I stand taller, looking over the court that’s finally realising something is truly wrong. They try to leave, but Conall slams the door shut, trapping them in with us. “Kill them all,” I demand of my men, of my nightmares.
Screams ring out as Zale transforms into his black hound and leaps into their masses. Lycus scrambles up the wall, and people fall all over themselves to escape him. Osis prowls towards me, swiping at those who get in his way. Conall disappears into the shadows, while Nathair’s snake strikes, swallowing a man whole. I grin and rip the mask from my face, and my own judge’s mask appears in its place, conjured by my powers. I feel the king trying to fight my binds, but I send my power into him, subduing him as I step into the chaos.
Bodies and blood fly around me as I walk towards Azul, who sits up and rubs his head. His body is coated in blood, and when I reach him, I hold out my arm. “Drink, my king. Drink deeply and heal, and then revenge is yours.”
He slams his fangs into my arm, making me moan as I hold him to me. I turn away and watch my men rip through the masses. Every now and then, I see them hesitate, and when Azul communicates, they knock that person out and lay them before the throne, while the others are killed instantly. Nathair strikes, pumping them with venom. Lycus’s spider catches people in his web and then kills them with his own venom. Zale bounds through the crowd, setting those in his way on fire before ripping into their throats. Osis does the same, ripping them apart with his teeth and claws. Reve has people screaming before him as he laughs.
I’m drawn back when Azul licks my hand, and I press my head to his. “She is yours, as are any of the others. Go.” I push him, and he walks through their masses as his armour and mask appear. Gone is the scared man Cassandra called her pet, and in his place is the warrior that was always there, waiting to be set free.
Conall clears a path for him with his powers as Cassandra tries to run away. Standing in the middle of the massacre, I watch the man I’m falling in love with take his revenge. I expect him to play with her, and to a certain extent he does. He follows her as she tries to escape, and when she finally gives up and turns to him with a wicked smile, he simply rips her heart out and sets it on fire, turning away as she crumbles.
She isn’t worth it, he tells me.It was all I dreamed of, but revenge is empty. She doesn’t deserve any more of me. She’s dead, and that’s enough.
I nod and turn back to see the crowd gathering before the throne until the screams finally stop. Bodies litter the ground, those who were judged and killed. The rest are awaiting their judgement. They are angry, scared, crying, or begging. Some still try to fight as I walk around to the throne where their king awaits his own sentence. He’s furious, but he’s scared, too, as he tries to break free of my power.
The remaining crowd is on their knees, bleeding and wanting to beg for their lives as my men circle them like nightmares. Turning to the king, I sink my fangs into his neck to embarrass and ruin him, and when I step back, I grin at him with his blood on my lips, and then I turn to his people. “Tonight, you will face judgement for your crimes. Everyone here was invited because of their proclivities for violence and pain. You relished the torture of others, and you took pleasure from it.”
“We did as we were told!” someone yells.
“Silence!” I roar. “That will be judged. You can’t lie to us. We will discern the truth from your blood. If you are found innocent, you will be let go. Otherwise, you will die just like your king.”
Turning to him, I smirk. “You are not worthy of your throne, the one you made out of death and pain, but tonight you will die on it.” I focus on the bleeding wounds on his neck and send my power into them, watching as his life force pours from the punctures. He starts to die, and then I step closer. “Goodbye, false king. May you burn in your victims’ blood for all time.” I thrust my hand into his chest and send Zale’s power down my arm, burning his heart and stepping back as his body turns to black ash on his throne.
Those who were chained are freed, and they stay at the back, watching. I nod at them, seeing them relax, and then I step towards the masses and hold out my hand. We do not have time to judge them one at a time, but they are all bleeding in some way or another, so I close my eyes and call it to me. It slams into me, filling me with their power and memories, and I stagger as I sort through it. I point wordlessly and blindly, feeling my men end the guilty ones, until only the innocent remain—those who were forced into it.
Only five people stand before us.
Two men and three women.
I jerk my head, and Reve leads them to the others at the back as my men transform and move to my side, their judge masks on their faces.
Turning to those I freed, I let my mask fade away. “We were all like you once—used, hurt, forgotten, and weak. No more. You are free. Spread the word of the judges, of the blood kings and queen who are coming for those within our race who wish to break our covenant. Their crimes will no longer be forgotten and dismissed. They will be punished. They will be judged.” As they begin to ask questions, Conall wraps his shadows around us, and we disappear the way we came.
We take the souls of those we collected with us, their blood coating our bodies.
Principes Court is no more.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SEVEN
AZUL
As soon as we reappear in the judgement room, they surround me. Althea rips off my mask and searches my face. I smile under her inspection, her worry for me palpable. The jealousy, possessiveness, and anger I could feel in her mind surged from her when they took me, and that’s what got me through the walk to the table, and then Reve was there.
He transported my mind far, far away. We were back in bed, and she was smiling at me as she held me. I was safe and happy, and when he released me, I woke up to chaos. My body was in agony, but the wounds quickly healed with my queen’s blood, chasing away the reins of my old mistress and court.
