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“To our guests!” Soren booms, pulling me up sharp.
“To our guests!” the brotherhood responds.
Then like a well-oiled machine, the Skull Brotherhood all take a drink from their glasses before pulling their guns and aiming them at our heads.
“Ah, fuck!” Beast groans next to me. “Looks like the game’s up.”
A deep growl rumbles up my chest as I push back my hood and take a step forward.
“LET HER GO!” I roar.
Soren’s grip tightens around Cyn’s throat as he says, “You think I don’t have my own spies in the city? You came here on a fool’s errand. You lose. I win. She’s mine.”
“She will never be yours!” Arden shouts from somewhere to my left. “Let her go and we’ll make your death quick.”
A dark, monstrous laugh breaks free from Soren’s fleshless lips. “If it hasn’t escaped your notice, there are almost fifty of us, and only eight of you. We’re armed. You’re not.”
“Let her go and we’ll make your death quick,” Arden repeats, eerily calm.
Releasing Cyn’s throat, Soren shoves her forward. She stumbles, gasping for air, tears tumbling down her cheeks. The other woman, also wearing a red robe, rushes towards Cyn but Soren grabs her arm and forcefully throws her backwards, she lands awkwardly against his throne, a cry ripping out of her throat as Soren grasps Cyn’s hair and yanks her back up against his chest. She reaches up to scratch at his face but he grasps her fingers, breaking them.
“MOTHERFUCKER!” I roar, earning a gun to my temple by the big bastard who escorted us into the hall just a few minutes ago.
“Just give me a fucking reason,” the Skull says, digging the metal into my skin.
“Carrick, no!” Cyn cries, shaking her head fiercely, clutching her broken fingers against her chest.
“Easy now, mate. Our moment will come,” Beast says under his breath.
If I wasn’t so fucking incensed, I’d laugh at his confidence.
They could shoot us all dead right now. He knows it as well as me.
“Please don’t,” Cyn whimpers, as she implores us not to act.
Soren meets my gaze as he pulls on Cyn’s hair, licking her cheek. “You should listen to the witch,” he says with a smirk.
“Carrick, please. Justwait,” she chokes out, her voice hoarse, a mixture of fear and anger blazing in her eyes. “Just wait,” she repeats with a croak.
It makes no sense given the dire fucking situation we’re in.
We need to act. Now.
I look over at Arden, who glances at me. He shakes his head, flicking his gaze back to Cyn, trying to make me understand something. But I’m too fucking angry to try and figure it out.
He’s hurting her! He’s fucking hurting her.
I can’t fucking hold it inside. I tip my head back and roar.
Releasing my rage.
I let it pour from me in a torrent of anger and promises of death to every fucking man in this room. I don’t give a fuck that my reaction earns sniggers from the cunt pressing his gun against my head because he’ll die, like all the fucking rest.
Chest heaving, I glare at Soren, waiting for the moment when I can kill him.
Because it’s coming.
“This is what’s going to happen,” Soren says, his eyes narrowed as he looks between us. “Before you all die, I’m going to fuck your pretty little witch whilst you watch me ruin her. Then my men are going to string you up and gut you, and I’m going to dress your whore in your entrails.”
