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Every bit of wry amusement drained from his expression, replaced by cold fury as he looked me over.
“You are not one of the Descendants?You’re a slave?” Solok hissed, looking…shocked at the revelation, his narrowed gaze scanning me from my dirty bare feet to my tangled mess of white hair.
Too late, I dipped my head to hide my pale green eyes. Solok saw the unnatural color and his mouth thinned into a tight line.
I was so, so dead.
“A slave who needs to be taught some manners.” Berenger whined, instantly averting his gaze when Solok growled low in his throat.
“You marred her.” The Axe murmured, studying my face, the raised marks on my exposed back.
“She fought back, didn’t she?” He made a tsking sound. “A slave who raised her hand against the mighty Descendants. How dare she?”
“Yes.” Berenger found his voice. “She attacked us.Andshe lied.” He said smugly, swiping back his dark hair, straightening his jacket as if he were the wronged party.
“Adefiantliar who fought back. What a lovely surprise.”
Solok closed the distance between us without seeming to move. One moment, he was ten feet away, the next…his polished black boots touched my bare toes, the air so cold around us my breath froze.
“Lift your head, little liar. Let me see those eyes better.”
The second I did, his gaze ignited, a gold circle of flame where his pupils would be, if he were one of us.Please, just make it quick.I squeezed my eyes shut, body tense as I anticipated the blow.
Across the back of my neck.
One slice, and this will all be over.
“Oh, I’m not here to kill you, slave. I’m here to liberate you.”
That was worse.It certainly sounded worse, though my heart lifted at the word—liberate.
Except…if I was meeting my end at the hands of Solok, this was my last chance—my only chance—to pay Berenger back for every vile cruelty he’d inflicted on us. I pivoted on my heel, the pompous bastard’s eyes flying wide when I kicked him in the balls, toes screaming in pain when they bent back with a crack, no doubt broken.
He doubled over, wheezing, before he snarled, retribution in his eyes. I met his glare, flicked my fingers in a foul sign and hissed, “I hope you die badly, you bastard. You deserve everything that’s coming to you.”
For what they almost did to me.
For what they’d done to my friends and to countless others. For every cruel lash, every bruise, every humiliation, I owed these fuckers as much pain as I could muster in whatever little time remained.
“I hope the Old Gods consume you and spit out your bones.” I was wild with fear and exhilaration, seconds away from tasting death, yet in that moment, not one part of me cared, as powerful as I’d ever been in my hopeless life.
“I hope you rot in darkness and never find rest in the Great Beyond.”
Berenger heaved up a mouthful of vomit, a string of drool hanging from his mouth, his hands clutching the dirt.
Solok chuckled, a flash of humor crossing his face when Berenger lurched to his feet. “So very entertaining. It’s such a shame this doesn’t happen more often.”
We all froze.
“That’s right, spawn. I’ve come to this godsforsaken land to collect the king’s tithe. I am here for the Scything.”
The Descendants around me preened, entitled arrogance replacing their blind fear of only seconds ago. Of course, they’d believe the stories of wealth, power and magic. Why wouldn’t they? How could they imagine anything else?
I hoped Solok took them.
I hoped he took them all, to whatever fate awaited them, death or riches, it didn’t matter, so long as they were gone. Gone forever from my life, from Castle Ravenshade, from Varitus.
One second.
