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Smacking wood drew my attention to the servants rushed to prepare a pyre outside, the dying sun casting them in an eerie glow. Another group appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later. “My Kral,” the first said, dipping into a low curtsey. “Do you need anything in here?”
“My throne,” I a
They scurried away to fetch it from a few rooms over. Minutes after they placed it in the middle of the grand ballroom, the first of the noble houses appeared. House Turrokar, permanently relocated to the capital since the Angels overran their territory, halted as a unit when they saw me lounging atop my throne.
Kormánzó Sorn was the first to step forward and greet me. “We have come at your urgent request, My Kral.”
“Find a place to stand while we wait for the others.” I waved my hand as if I were dismissing a fly from my presence. He gathered his family and relocated them out of my sight. Their whispers echoed in the empty space before the patriarch shushed them.
Several houses followed after them, receiving the same treatment from me. Tension hung in the air like a thick fog while I waited for the one family I really fucking wanted to see—House Varrir.
They were fashionably late, as always preferring to make an entrance. I masked a smile behind rough knuckles. I’d counted on their pompousness, and they had delivered.
Orith, the daughter, dipped into a curtsey so low I was surprised her nose didn’t brush the floor. Veilless, with cleavage on full display, I knew exactly what Ollmund’s designs were. Thank the Fates he’d never used his second term to force us into marrying her. Scorned by Rokath, affirmed by Kiira, he was tossing her at my feet instead. But his attempts to close the distance between us were for his own power plays, and not because he revered me as a God among Demons, unlike many others.
“Please stand,” I commanded, my voice hard despite the pleasantry.
“May the Reaper’s eye pass over you, My Kral,” Ollmund purred like he hadn’t fucking assaulted the female I loved.
A muscle feathered in my jaw as I rose to my full height. “Ollmund, just the male I was waiting on.” I kept my voice courtly, not betraying the anger rising within me at the sight of his lecherous face.
“What an honor, My Kral. What have I done to deserve this favor?” he asked, hands folding behind his lower back. He regarded me with a wide, easy stance that told me he didn’t view me as a real threat.
I took a step forward and let out a sinister laugh. “I’m not sure I would call what I am about to rain down on you ‘favor.’”
The gathered nobles sucked in a sharp breath.
Ollmund’s bushy brows dipped together. “I’m not sure I un–”
Before he could finish his sentence, I stepped forward and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, wheezing. I didn’t hesitate to throw an uppercut to his jaw, launching him backward. With a groan, he curled up on the ground, still clutching his abdomen.
I stomped on his lower leg with all my might, the crunch under my boot echoing around the ballroom with a satisfying crunch.
A few screams tore from the throats of the ladies of the court, horrified by my violence. They were unaccustomed to such actions. They’d forgotten I’d trained at the military academy for decades and had done patrols on the border for years before returning to Uzhhorod.
Just because I didn’t personally lead the army didn’t mean I couldn’t knock them about.
I dragged my attention away from the pathetic male at my feet, finding his wife and daughter with their hands clasped over their mouths and backing away. “I have received many notes these past days,” I boomed, sca
They’d read Kiira’s full, dramatized account soon enough.
“But that is not why I gathered you here.”
The room fell so silent that when a piece of metal clinked against the floor, many jumped.
“Ollmund Varrir has assaulted a member of House Vrak.” I let the words sink in and snapped my attention back to the male at my feet. He’d gone utterly still. Beneath his weathered skin, he paled. The wrinkles around the corner of his mouth deepened, along with the ones on his forehead.
I crouched down, then spoke low enough so only he could hear me. “You raped the High Priestess. Did you think the Fates wouldn’t punish you for that? That I wouldn’t punish you for that? The Reaper has come for you this day, Ollmund.”
A choked sob escaped him as I rose and returned my attention to the rest of them. “For that, he will be killed. His family will be stripped of their titles and impoverished. The crown claims all their coin and lands until a suitable replacement is found.”
That caused a stir among the crowd. It was well known that House Varrir held strong ties to House Vrak since my ascension. To see them stripped to beggars now? That was the shock, the unpredictability, the instability among them I needed to shove my agenda through.
I held up a hand, silencing them again. “The time has come for each one of you to swear fealty to me again, to confirm you understand the consequences for defying my holy orders and my holy throne.”
I drew a dagger from my waist, leaving my sword where it was. For now. “But first, I have justice to execute.”
Ollmund scrambled backward as I stalked toward him. Somehow, he managed to stumble to his feet. I herded him toward the double doors, which the Kral’s Guard swung open. A gust of winter air chilled the room nearly as much as my actions.
He raced into the dark, attempting to flee, but the soldiers caught him by the arms and dragged him to his knees. “Ollmund!” his wife shouted, falling over the threshold.
I paused, pivoting to the gathered nobility. “I suggest you gather around the windows to witness what happens when a member of House Vrak is attacked.”
None of them hesitated to press forward, all probably pla
“Father!” Orith cried, clutching her mother for comfort.
“Light the pyre,” I ordered one of the males. He took a torch to the base of it, and smoke soon filtered through the night. When the fire caught, it cast the scene in a haunting glow.
Ollmund struggled against the hold as I approached. “I did no such thing! I would never harm you, Xa
I leaned down and hissed in his ear, “We both know it wasn’t me. Speak what you did aloud, and I will not burn you. You’ll spend all eternity trapped in this world, yearning for the next life you’ll never have. It is honestly what I should do, but unfortunately I have to cater to the other sycophants in there. It wouldn’t help me to let you rot, as much as I want to.”
“I am calling on my second term,” he wheezed. “You will not kill me.”
Red coated my vision. How dare he attempt to stop me from showing Kiira that she deserved justice? My palms tingled with the memory of our blood oath.
“No,” I growled. “You forfeit that term when you raped Kiira.”
The vehemence in my tone made him whimper.
“On his feet,” I commanded, stepping back. My guard hauled him upright. “Strip him.”
Another raced forward, using a knife to shred his fine clothes from his body. Screams and pleas of mercy tore from his wife and daughter, but I paid them no attention as I turned to the nobility.
“Witness my wrath. Imprint it on your memory so that you may never attempt to rise against me.”
With that, I dug the blade into Ollmund’s skin, dragging it in one forty-five degree line, then another, until a large X covered his portly torso. Had I taken inspiration from Rokath? Absolutely. If it worked for him, it would work for me.
“Bring the whip,” I ordered, palm up and waiting. A guard settled it in my hand a moment later. With predatory slowness, I rounded to his naked backside. I stared every head of house down, slow and unblinking.
Muscles tense, Ollmund attempted to smother his sobs. I raised the nine tails studded with metal, the air hissing past my ear.
And then, I struck with all my might.
He screamed, pitching forward. If it weren’t for my guard holding him, he would have collapsed to the ground. I didn’t hesitate to deliver another blow, then one after that. Blood welled as I tore up his backside, but satisfaction was still out of reach.
Many females turned away as a garnet puddle formed around us. Yet the males, with hard set jaws, watched on, knowing they’d be judged for it. The firelight reflected their rage back to me. Their defiance. Their malicious intent. Mixed among the fearful were a few brave souls who would receive personal visits from me over the coming days.
Ribs emerged from the flayed meat of Ollmund’s back. The heat from the pyre rose to a new height, searing into my skin. The crackling accompanied my ominous steps as I drew my dagger and rounded the pathetic male.
Tears and snot streamed down his face, and his head hung limply. I gave him a few slaps to stir him. “You are no male, and for that, you will have your cock and balls removed before I throw you onto the logs. Pray to the Weaver now to bring you back as a female so you aren’t shamed with your utter lack.”
Eyes wide, he started to plead with me again, but I reached down and yanked what the Weaver had not blessed him with in this life. A scream ripped from him, and I wasted no time in slicing both away. Blood spurted from the wound, but I kept hold of the offending organs, intending to use them as proof to my cousins that I was committed to our changes.
What would Kiira think when she received them? Would she realize then the lengths I would go to for her? Would she see me as her protector as she saw Rokath?
That was all I wanted from her now. For her to remember the way we’d laugh late into the night. The softness of her voice, the way she’d prop her feet on my lap while we drank decadent wine. How she’d lean into me as I settled her in my bed to sleep it off.
I wanted to return to the before of her resentment. Before she turned to Rokath for confirmation instead of me. Before she clung to Rapp, let him make her smile and chase away her pain.
She should have looked at me like that.
Damn the consequences the Fates would invoke for disallowing Ollmund to call upon his second favor. This was far more important.
“Burn him,” I commanded my guard.