CHAPTER 128: ONE HUNDRED & TWENTY EIGHT

Valka

A trip to the dungeons without questions meant I had to commit a grave crime. I couldn’t tell for sure what Lucien was planning, but this I could do.

I chose the crime. And the time. And the place.

The revel is as boring as every other. Laughter. Dances. Wine. Not so subtle fondlings here and there. Shy looks and giggles hidden behind fans. The celebration is to the coming conquer of Ebonheart. Tomorrow, they sack the kingdom and raze it to the ground. Tomorrow, all goes to hell for us ’beasts’. Tomorrow is the start of a new empire, where all life is equal.

Nonsense, if you asked me.

My eyes run over the crowd, the fresh filing of my fangs still bleeding in my mouth. I’d done it myself this time. Picked up the blade and scraped until I had human teeth. Cut the growth on my healing ears, and waited for minutes, watching it try stitch itself together.

It hadn’t.

I knew then that I was still being poisoned and I can’t tell what it is. The food? The water? The tonics that would help improve the health of the baby? I never took them, so it must have been the latter.

It meant Rafael still didn’t trust me enough to let me walk free with my powers like he did Lilith.

His fingers are presently running up and down my thigh, inappropriate in the way they push up the tule of my purple skirts, nearing the apex of my centre. I sit still, keeping a bored, unbothered expression on my face, because he watches me with each stray touch. With each drop of wine he gobbles down, he grows a little more emboldened.

Lilith is forgotten by his side, his full attention on me. On the swell of my fuller breasts. On the hideous dress he’s chosen for me to make me the class clown of his revelry, and the skin it reveals. On the crown of thorns he’s placed on my head to make mockery of the kingdom that falls on the morrow.

He smells like lust. And I know it’ll be harder tonight to keep him away from my bedchamber. It didn’t make me feel good everytime he kissed me. I know it’s necessary, but I feel like I am selling a part of myself away. I don’t feel like Valka anymore.

Letting a seductive smile curve my lips, I bring my gaze to his grey ones that are tracing the outline of my breasts in the bodice. "I would like to dance."

Dark brows quirk up. "Do you understand the significance of this event?"

I lean in, blinking softly. "Should I? If my king is on his way to victory, should I not celebrate with him?"

He is pleased by my response. He is pleased that I call him my king. He nods, eyes flicking once more to my body. "Very well. Do not stray too far."

"I do not think that is a good idea, Your Majesty," Lilith counters, green eyes fixed on me. We haven’t spoken since she... for a lack of a much better word, helped get into Rafe’s head to let me keep the baby.

She has gone back to ignoring me for the most part, but I feel her watching closely, waiting. Like she knows I’m up to something.

Rafael waves her off, dropping his chin on his fist. "Shut your mouth, woman. I tire of your nagging."

The crowd below the dias hushes as I rise from the small seat and take the steps down. My chin is raised high, my stare sharp as knives as I hunt down for a face in particular. The dance floor moves fluidly around me, skirt twirling against marble, men lying in the ears of women who care for promises of sweet nothings, even as their gazes stray to the next beautiful thing.

I am the next beautiful thing.

Dressed for the attention of the male gaze. Because Rafael likes to flaunt his newest toy. He likes to tell the men he lords over that they can see but never touch. It is why all of my dresses are sheer and revealing.

And tonight, it is to my advantage. Because letting me take to the dance floor makes me fair game, even with the collar attached to my neck screaming ownership.

The males stray closer, testing boundaries as they look to Rafael for permission. But one in particular, makes a beeline for me.

His hair is a dirty blonde sticking to his scalp in an overtly slick look that reminds me of chicken feathers in boiling water. He halts before me and in the months since I’ve been gone from Silvermoor training camps, Kaelin, Rafael’s Beta, has lost muscle and grown softer.

Then he had been coy and disgustingly smug. He had called me Rafael’s new toy and had a notorious reputation of sleeping around, and with the Prince’s women. He had been more intrigued by Rafael’s interest in keeping me around.

However, over the last few weeks, he’s been at every meeting, legs kicked up the table, teeth clenched on apples, watching me with that hooded expression.

I hear the maids talk about him. He still has that habit. And I bet Rafael refusing to share me aggravates him.

He halts before, extending his arm to me in an awful attempt at charming me. "You look like you need company." His black gaze flits about us with a pointed look. "You should take a pick before they all decide they want a piece of you."

I smile, flatten my fingers against his arm. "Thank you."

He leads me to to the forefront of the hall, eager to let everyone see precisely how he mauls me. I let him. The more people who get to see what I’m about to do, the graver the punishment.

He holds me in for the waltz, and where his hand should rest on my waist, it curls on the curve of my ass. The same hand had yanked back my mate’s hair and cut it, scattered the strands at my feet like strands.

Kaelin had laughed, delighted. And it was he who shoved the bag of silver into Lucien’s face. I’ve only realized recently that when I wish to hold a grudge, I do so murderously, with calculation.

And that is why Kaelin is my target tonight.

I breathe in. Reel my temper in. Smile.

He leans in close, breath sour with wine. "You clean up rather nicely, Valerian."

I force a laugh. "Ah, that."

Black eyes hone in on the steadiness of my pulse, on the strands of hair running down my neck and sticking to my cleavage shamelessly. "How you hid all of that beyond the armour is beyond me. But I suppose it does answer the question of why he kept you around."

My lips have begun to ache from the effort of keeping the smile in place. I’m a horrible actress, I think. "Do tell."

He dips his head and I fight the urge to push him off when his lips graze the shell of my ear. "You were warming his bed. Playing soldier by day, spreading your legs by night." His lips curl. "Makes me wonder how many cocks you rode to keep your identity hidden."

My nails bite into his sleeve. I force another laugh. "For a man who isn’t fit to lick the dirt off my shoes, you seem awfully preoccupied with where my legs have been."

He grins, teeth white, pleased that he’s getting under my skin. "I’m interested in what he leaves behind. When he tires of his toys, I tend to inherit them." His hand slips lower, pressing my ass through the skirts. "And you’ll come to me willingly. You’ll beg for it. Because when Rafael tires of you--and he will

--the status you pride in will mean nothing, and you will be joined in the dungeons with the rest of the half-breed whores."

He presses closer until I can smell the rot on his breath. "And then, we’ll all have our turn with you. I imagine the guards will make a great line up for you. As well as the homeless rats on the streets. You’ll spend the rest of your miserable, long years, wishing for death. Then you’ll wish you had come to me sooner. I’d at least make it quick."

I grin. "I’m so fucking terrified, I’m shaking."

He chuckles low, dark. "You should be. Because only then will you consider my offer."

"Your offer?" I echo.

He nods and my body begins to stiffen when his hand starts to wonder to the crack of my ass. I didn’t blame him. When he had a king who thought he was entitled to every woman’s body, it was hard to believe his subjects would be any different. "I could protect you when he discards you. Take you in. I may not be an Alpha, but I am the King’s Beta. The kingdom’s coffers are filled with my wealth. My House will welcome you. All I seek is one night. Part your pretty little legs for me. I’m sure Rafael will not mind."

My laughter this time is not forced. It just lurches from my chest, startling those around us. "You always did think too highly pf yourself." My gaze flicks to the guard dancing with the brunette on my left. More importantly, the sword hanging off his belt. A few more twirls and it will be within reach.

"But I must decline your offer. I’ll take my chances with the horde," I say sweetly.

He doesn’t like that very much.

Kaelin’s face hardens, that smug cruelty fading into anger. "You speak with the pride that suits a queen. But you are no better than a gutter whore."

I try not to roll my eyes. If I had a penny for every time I’ve been called a whore by an angry man, I’d probably be as rich as Lucien. Okay, maybe that’s overreaching.

When Kaelin sees that his words have no mark, he takes it a step further. "Rafael’s little charity case. And that mate of yours? What was his name again? Lucien?" My fingers twitch on his sleeve. "They say he broke towards the end. He died begging like a swine. Not for himself. Oh no. He was calling out your name. Roaring it, actually, as we flayed his flesh off his bones. Good that he never found out that you couldn’t have cared less. Don’t look so shocked. It fits, doesn’t it? From one monarch to the next, you fuck your way up the ranks until you find someone stupid enough to crown you..."

I hear the last few sentences in the way you hear someone speak when your head is submerged in still waters.

The crime I had picked for a trip to the dungeons was attempted murder.

The guard twirls his partner, putting them within reach and his sword even closer.

He keeps talking. "Shame he couldn’t even crawl--"

I stop hearing.

At some point between grabbing the sword and swinging it, I changed my mind.

And trajectory.

The blade feels like a familiar weight in my hand and Rafael’s bark is all the warning anyone can get before the sharpened edge of the blade sinks into his neck.

One heartbeat he’s smirking. The next, his mouth opens in a soft sound of surprise as his head leaves his body in a wet, perfect arc.

It hits the marble with a hollow crack.