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“You can still be killed.”
“Is that a threat?” I asked, grinning.
“You take it however you want.”
It likely was a threat. My smile faded. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I know that what I’ve told you is a lot, but it is all the truth. Every part, Poppy.”
“Stop calling me that!” She wiggled, shifting slightly. Her ass rubbed against my cock.
“And you should stop doing that,” I bit out, unsure if I really wanted her to stop. “Then again. Please continue. It’s the perfect kind of torture.”
Poppy inhaled sharply as a tight, sweet shiver hit her. “You’re sick.”
“And twisted. Perverse, and dark.” I drew my chin across her cheek, smiling as her back arched in response. Her body knew what it wanted. Against the wall, I spread my fingers over hers. “I’m a lot of things—”
“Murderer?” she whispered. “You killed Vikter. You killed all the others.”
The breath I took was a heavy one. “I’ve killed. So have Delano and Kieran. I and the one you call the Dark One had a hand in Hannes’ and Rylan’s deaths, but not that poor girl,” I said, speaking of Malessa Axton. “It was one of the Ascended, most likely caught in bloodlust. And I am willing to bet it was either the Duke or the Lord.”
Poppy seemed to exhale the same heavy breath.
“And none of us had anything to do with the attack on the Rite,” I told her, which was true. They were never supposed to be near the Rite. “And what happened to Vikter.”
I could feel each breath she took as she asked, “Then who did?”
“It was those you call Descenters. Our supporters,” I told her. “There was no order given to attack the Rite, however.”
“You really expect me to believe the thing the Descenters follow didn’t order them to attack the Rite?”
“Just because they follow the Dark One, doesn’t mean they are led by him. Many of the Descenters act on their own. They know the truth. They no longer want to live in fear of their children being made into monsters or stolen to feed another. I had nothing to do with Vikter’s death,” I said, even though I felt responsible because I was responsible.
Poppy shivered. “But the others you claim. You killed them. Owning it doesn’t change it.”
“It had to happen.” I moved my chin without thought, much like a cat seeking touch. “Just like you need to understand that there is no way out of this. You belong to me.”
You belong to me.
My eyes opened, fixing on our joined hands against the cold stone wall. The back of my neck prickled.
“Don’t you mean I belong to the Dark One?” she countered.
I swallowed. “I meant what I said, Princess.”
“I don’t belong to anyone.”
“If you believe that, then you are a fool.” I moved my head, preventing her from retaliating. “Or you’re lying to yourself. You belonged to the Ascended. You know that. It’s one of the things you hated. They kept you in a cage.”
“At least that cage was more comfortable than this one.”
“True,” I admitted, and fuck if that wasn’t a kick in the nuts. “But you’ve never been free.”
“True or not, that doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting you,” she warned. “I won’t submit.”
“I know.” Admiration for her rose once more, but so did concern. I didn’t need her to submit. I needed her to see the truth, and there was so much I hadn’t told her. There wasn’t time. I needed to get to Berkton.
Poppy stiffened against me. “And you’re still a monster.”
Another truth. “I am, but I wasn’t born that way. I was made this way. You asked about the scar on my thigh. Did you look at it closely, or were you too busy staring at my co—”
“Shut up!”
“You should’ve noticed that it was the Royal Crest branded on my skin.” I wasn’t going to shut up. “Do you want to know how I have such intimate knowledge of what happens during your fucking Ascension, Poppy? How I know what you don’t? Because I was held in one of those Temples for five decades,” I hissed. “And I was sliced and cut and fed upon. My blood was poured into golden chalices that the second sons and daughters drank after being drained by the Queen or the King or another Ascended. I was the godsdamn cattle.”
My lips peeled back over my teeth. “And I wasn’t just used for food. I provided all sorts of entertainment. I know exactly what it’s like to not have a choice.” I went there because she had to know. “It was your Queen who branded me, and if it hadn’t been for the foolish bravery of another, I would still be there. That is how I got that scar.”
I let go of her then, burning with anger and grief, shame and desperation. The walls were down. Backing away, I saw that she trembled. I knew that what I’d shared shook her. Good. It was terrible. Horrific. It was the truth of those she wanted so badly to believe were the heroes.
