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“Defiant until the end.” Elizabeth scoffs. Then she looks around, seeming to remember that we have an audience. A wicked twist curls her lips. “To show you how magnanimous I can be, before I end your miserable life, I will allow you the honor of witnessing a moment foretold to me almost three hundred years ago.” She steps close enough to whisper so only I can hear. “All you have ever done was cause harm to anyone unfortunate enough to be near you. Have you learned nothing from the death of your family? How heartless to care so little about the end you wrought upon them.”
I struggle against my captor, ignoring the cruel words. Varin reins in my strength, rendering my efforts useless. The man at my back tightens his grip, fingers pressing into my skin as if he’s feeling for my bones below the muscle.
“You would do well to be on your best behavior.” The warning is mild, yet there is an undeniable threat underneath.
There’s no time to wonder at her meaning. Elizabeth lifts her hand, and at the snap of her fingers, the door behind the thrones is flung open. The echo of marching soldiers precedes their arrival.
Seven guards emerge. Each holds a chain attached to a metal collar around the neck of a prisoner. The bands have the unmistakable gleam of night-forged silver.
Bruises cover their faces, with smears of blood marking their lips and noses. Yet it does not stop them from standing tall and scowling at the crowd. I scan the line of captives, and am relieved that none of them are ones I recognize. But I am no less furious that anyone is subjected to her abuse and humiliations.
“You should not have involved your wolven friends in your pathetic plots,” Elizabeth says, coming to stand beside me and admire her line of hostages. “Should you disobey me, my men will kill them. Should they attempt to shift, they will kill themselves.”
Elizabeth has relied on her power for too long. I am under no illusion that she has any intention of letting them live.
I hold my tongue. If I can just get free…
“Soon you will have even more blood on your hands than I do.” She laughs at her own mocking words.
I will not allow her cruelty to crawl under my skin and eat away at me. Every death she has ordered or carried out is of her own doing.
It was all her.
She believes she has the right to decide the fate of others. The right to use whoever she pleases if it means getting what she wants. The right to kill anyone it takes to exert her control over whoever she wants under her thumb.
But I will not bear the burden of those deaths in her place.
Elizabeth tilts her chin up. The Voice, understanding the signal, steps to the edge of the dais from where she has silently been observing, nearly unnoticed against the background of white and silver.
Demons curse her—she was the betrayer.
It was the Voice who told Elizabeth I lived, stripping us of our advantage. They both knew I would come. Knew I would try to stop her—
And Alaric… she knew I would wrest him from her control.
I hurl every ounce of hate I possess that is not already bestowed on Elizabeth toward her with my gaze. If she can sense it, then she hides it well.
Why bother to help me at all? Why not kill me before Oliver and his pack could reach me? Does she believe I deserve to suffer more at Elizabeth’s whims before she finally kills me?
Fine. If I must die, then I will drag them both into the Otherworld with me.
The entire room slides their attention over to the Voice, pulled by the spell granted by her position.
“Midnight draws near. It is time to crown our prince and welcome him as our queen’s consort.”
Alaric approaches, never taking his eyes off Elizabeth. She removes her mask, letting it fall from her slender fingers and clatter to the marble floor.
Lifting up on her toes, she presses her body against his. Her hands slide over his chest and curl around the back of his neck in a deliberate show, claiming him. She wants to prove that she can have anything and anyone she wants. Elizabeth pulls his head down and kisses him deeply as her fingers untie the ribbon of his mask.
It churns my stomach to watch, especially because he doesn’t fight it. But to turn my face away would give her the first of many victories she seeks tonight.
Blurring my vision, I slide my gaze to the back of her head, and the shining pin stabbed through her hair.
Varin, I plead, though I do not know what to ask for.
The demon rumbles, a sound of anger directed at her. Their emotions are as easy to read now as my own. Varin takes control of my face, removing every trace of emotion.
Finally, Elizabeth pulls away, and Alaric offers her his elbow. As she accepts, she can’t resist sending a cold flash of teeth back over her shoulder before they climb the stairs.
