The Camp (Chateau 2)

I didn’t blink.

He waited for me to argue, as if the past few months would have given me a change of heart, as if I would stick out my neck for her again, humiliate myself to keep her out of this place. It was a test.

I passed.

“Help her escape again…and I’ll kill you.” His gaze burned into mine, ferocious.

I knew he wasn’t bluffing. He would grant no more mercy—even if our blood was the same.

He turned away and raised his voice so the other guards could hear. “We need a new executioner.” He turned back to look at me, like he would nominate me for the role as an opportunity to prove my loyalty to him, to everyone. “I think Magnus—”

“I’ll do it.” Alix’s eyes gleamed with mirth, as if nothing would make him happier than putting on that mask and butchering innocent women who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They went to the grocery store alone at night. They rode the metro alone after a long night at the office. Just regular women…who should have taken a different route home.

I kept a straight face, but my lungs relaxed when Alix volunteered because no amount of anguish would make me want to take on that role even once, let alone every week. It’d been offered to me before, but I never volunteered myself. Now, my brother put me on the spot, but Alix came to my rescue without even realizing it.

Fender accepted the offer. “Then let’s get to work.” He headed back to his horse with his men to leave the camp. After he got into the saddle and grabbed the reins, he gave me a final look before he rode off. “No one escapes this place. No one.”

Three

The Camp

Every time a wagon arrived at the camp, it was full of bound women.

They were assigned their cabins and put to work instantly.

Since we had to start over and establish obedience with the frightened girls, we had a Red Snow every day until the group of women became so afraid they stopped fighting, stopped talking back, and then they became the quiet and submissive group we wanted.

They were officially traumatized.

Years ago, I’d told Fender that the Red Snow was an unnecessary maneuver to establish obedience, that there were other things we could do to maintain control, but Fender dismissed my suggestions.

Eventually, I stopped asking.

I once told Raven that after the first time, she would get used to it.

That was a lie.

I never got used to it.

I was in the main cabin when I heard her screams.

I’d recognize them anywhere.

I sat at the table in front of the TV, blankly staring at the screen, listening to her yell and scream as she fought to be free. It was quiet and distant, but the sound became louder, right in my ear, like my mind filled in the sound from memory.

My hands automatically tightened into fists, not from rage at her treatment, but from rage over what she did to me.

I gave her everything.

Fucking everything.

I pushed the chair back with my legs, and I jumped to my feet. It was an out-of-body experience, the way I threw the door open and descended the stairs of the porch to the earth below, seeing red in my vision because I was still furious—even after all this time.

My body would be forever mutilated…because of what she did to me.

She was on the ground with her hands bound, Eric’s heavy boot resting on her back to keep her pinned. She tried to squirm free even though there was absolutely no chance of escape. She tried anyway, like an idiot.

Eric kicked her in the side.

She groaned then stilled, the air forced out of her lungs.

“Now, if you’ll be a good little bitch, I’ll free your wrist and take you to your beautiful suite.” Eric stared down at her, returning his boot to her back to keep her in place so she wouldn’t writhe anymore. “That sounds nice, huh?”

She breathed hard, furious and in pain.

I walked across the ground and slowly approached where the guards were gathered, looking at the woman who had killed our own, who had torched this place to ash and tried to burn us alive. They all stared down at her with ferocity in their gazes. They would probably kill her…if Fender hadn’t instructed them to torture her by keeping her alive instead.

I stopped near her head, looking down at her dark hair, her face turned away so she couldn’t see me.

The guards looked at me, as if they expected me to save her ass.

Eric cut the rope that bound her hands. “Ready to go, Your Highness?”

She was still for a second, just breathing on the ground, like she was afraid to rise and meet her fate.

I’d never seen her look so weak.