No one heard his cries except for the silent, snickering guards. The halls were empty, and the soldiers were ordered to comb the countryside, as well as the cities, but judging by their lack of loyalty, they either were going to disobey his orders entirely, or they were too stupid to know where to search.
Confused and alone, Severin suddenly wished he had Ruby near to tell him what to do. It was, perhaps, the first time he felt separation anxiety. He hadn’t anticipated the loss that came with her silence. Everything was wrong. So fucking wrong. The plan was all he knew, and he would have gone along with the obvious killing when need be. After all, he’d planned on killing both Ruby and Rae when the right time came. Now, he was empty-handed before he expected to be, and it angered him to no end.
“Cunts,” he cursed.
He reached into his pocket
and felt the dense pack of cards. Riffling through them blindly, he pulled out the one that felt best against his fingertips. When he looked at the image, he winced. The fool’s card. So obvious, yet it was there. Even quicker than he saw the slobbering jester’s tongue flap to the side, he ignored the pick.
Quickly throwing the card onto the floor, he tried his luck a second time. On this occasion, the card revealed the image of the hermit. This card ultimately satisfied him, although, he wondered if he was reading it right. In the end, he decided it was just a silly children’s game and not to be taken seriously.
Instead of acting as minister, he had to don his best detective suit and figure out what the hell had happened and to where the queen had escaped. First, he entered the chambers and saw a rather immaculate room. The only visible blood was underneath the bed, but even that was mild compared to the amount she had truly lost.
“I expected too little from the queen,” he whispered. “Thought I could keep her docile without raping the little tart. I should have held her head before taking her. I was too weak. I have one hope left…”
Why had he agreed to let her roam unchained? He would never allow a mistake like this to happen again. When he found her, he’d cut off her toes, throw her into the Cathedral, and let the slaves have their way with her. Yes, that was the only punishment fit for a whore such as herself.
His eyes went from the window, down to the bed, where the guards had apparently found Ruby’s twitching limbs struggling against the rolled carpet that tucked her in smug. It disgusted him to think of the ruling class as mortal as insects, but the way her eyes gaped open at him on the operating table drove the point home. When it came to life and death, the cards were out of their hands. Good men just didn’t do what they did. Good men stood for their values. Good men were loyal to their woman, an oath any true alpha would die for.
“Damn it all!” he screamed.
As his lack of power became more and more apparent, a violent torrent of emotions controlled his body. He grabbed the windowsill and lunged forward, shattering the ledge. The curtains hanging over the bed were his next targets. He roared like a wild beast, a boar maybe. At the end of the day, he knew he was losing, and he never lost. He kicked the heel of his boots against the wooden wardrobe, shattering the carved animal faces. There wasn’t a point of that room that went unturned and destroyed, for he was intent on showing his might to no one but himself.
Of course, soon, the energy dwindled from his belly, and his spine drooped forward like an old flower stem. Breathless, he wheezed and clung to the broken drywall. “I can’t stand myself,” he muttered.
He fell to the floor and wept, but no tears fell. Defunct, alone, and absolutely pathetic, he crawled underneath the bed and found the comfort of the darkness. Power was not worth the effort if he had to keep playing the same games throughout time. Truthfully, in that moment, he felt ready to give up.
No one would come to his aid. No one would dare defend his right to power. Even the guards, as loyal as they were, would leave him if he were to fall from his throne. Then, there was his loyal army. They were on their way to planning a coup. No, he hadn’t been the leader he thought he’d be. Worst of all was the fact that a worthless little trollop—a girl who was she told was special throughout her life—had outsmarted him. It went against everything he thought to be true.
But as he shed the last of his frustrated tears, he turned his head and saw the silver brush that was used as a weapon. Fingers wrapping around the icy handle, he held it into the air and recoiled when he saw the reflection of a blackbird, hideously posed triumphantly without its head. He must have broken it during his childish acts.
Oddly, the sight gave him a newfound curiosity. He crawled back into the light and took another glance at the stuffed bird. His pupils dilated as a wave of truth hit him. “Virgil…”
How had he not seen it coming? Struck by the sudden revelation’s heaviness, he nearly collapsed and felt his heart pumped painfully. He ran through the tower hallways, jumping down the staircase to the basement, finally reaching Virgil’s place of residence, where the old swine was known to preach and work in silence. Pounding on the door, he did not wait long before kicking it in with the round of his shoulder.
The room was empty, but on his work desk was a single card. It was the Hanged Man.
Chapter Nine
“Virgil, I’m tired,” Rae moaned as she held onto Killian’s back.
Killian laughed and reached up her thigh to get a better grip. His hand just barely brushed her pussy, sending the right amount of edging pleasure. “You’re tired? I’ve carried you for three miles. And what do I get in return?”
“Anything you ask for and more.”
Admittedly, none of them had expected to work this hard. It had been at least twelve hours since they escaped the towers, and the rising tide of the water was starting to really get on their nerves. Still, the one thing that kept them going was the hope that they’d get to hold their children soon. Reunited, life could resume as normal.
Except, Killian wondered how they would escape the eye of her captors. Ruby was a soldier, and that meant they would be preyed upon sooner or later. The group would have to choose between fighting and running until they found someplace remote enough to hide away. It wasn’t a good position to be in.
“We’re almost there. Just another few hundred feet before we dip under,” Virgil said, stopping to quench his thirst with his pouch of water.
Killian stopped and eyed the dark water. The sea had been inching higher for some time now, and he worried that he might be forced into its depths. As if water had a mind of its own. As if it could take him away like a child lost in the swath of the womb. It horrified him to no end, and knowing Rae’s life was an echo of that sentiment, he felt deeply against the idea of it existing at all in nature. “How far do we have to swim?”
“A mile or so. If you want to rest here, you should,” Virgil said.
The men eyed each other. The ache and sting had done all it needed it to do. They were beat, and the thought of rest with their woman was like heaven. The night would only last so long. Yes, it was time to fuck her senseless before falling into a deep sleep.
Rae lowered herself from Killian’s shoulder and rubbed her ass against his crotch. He huffed in her lingering scent, instantly turning him erect and hard. Fucking warm. Fucking jolting. Why did the bitch have to be so god damn electrifying?