WALL MEN: A Vow Broken (The Wall Men 2)

But why would she help me, betraying her own brother? Maybe it’s not a wise idea to make your sister a servant. Either way, I’m going to have to pretend I’m still under his control if I want to keep this a secret. He can’t know what she’s done.

The woman slides the garment over my naked body, leaving two long flaps—about a foot wide—down my front and back. She takes a thick red satin ribbon and ties it around my waist.

I look down. All of my strategic parts are covered, but one wrong move and I’ll be showing off more than just my arms, bare hips, and outer thighs. She brushes my long hair and wraps it into a swirl atop my head, which she pins into place.

“Black hair is all you have going for you, human. Not much else to work with.” She looks me over with disgust. “I suppose it will have to do.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly.

“Now you may come with me to the feasting hall.”

“What happens there?” I ask.

“You will meet the other proxy. You will dine with the Blood King and the rulers of his kingdoms.”

I highly doubt that those kingdoms agree they belong to Benicio. “Will Alwar be there?”

“Of course. You are his proxy.”

Wait. “How long have I been at the palace?”

“I am unsure. Two, maybe three days.”

I cover my mouth and look down at my arms. Scabs, bruises, puncture marks. Benicio did this. I lost all sense of time.

I thought he wasn’t allowed to touch me, so he either found a loophole, or he doesn’t care if he breaks the rules. Does he know the No Ones aren’t enforcing vows any longer? If yes, then he wouldn’t care if the Proxy Vow is broken.

My mind hops back and forth between sharp clarity and a lingering fog from so many bites. My heart begs for more fog, but my head tells me I have to try harder. Think, Lake. Think. What’s going on?

Benicio said he planned to kill Alwar, the party traveling with him, and all the War People still guarding the wall.

My gaze settles on my scabby, bruised arms. Alwar’ll know the moment he sees these marks that Benicio’s been drinking from me. Alwar will be furious. He’ll attack.

Okay. Benicio’s attempting to provoke a fight, which means he’s thought this through. He has a plan. He wants Alwar to lose his shit. Maybe he plans for one or both of us proxies to die in the skirmish, which would void the Proxy Vow. I just don’t know!

My heart accelerates. Calm down, Lake. Breathe. I have to focus. What do I do?

I clear the noise in my mind and see the answers as clear as day: I want the Blood Battle. I want to win. I want to claim my prize and turn this whole monster-mess on its head.

No, you want to be Benicio’s queen. I hug my arms to my chest.

No, stop. He’s lying to you. You know that. Alwar’s your husband now. Still, I can’t let my feelings for Alwar blind me either, even if our last conversation triggered doubts about who he really is or what we could be together. Yes, I hardly know him, but he said he’s willing to cross the bridge to be with me. It’s a huge sacrifice. I feel something, too, a connection, but we haven’t had more than a handful of moments together.

No. Think straight. You can’t throw in the towel on your plan. You have to do this. For all the people and creatures back home.

“Are you ready, Norfolk?” asks the woman, finishing up the last of my hair.

“Sure. Let’s get this feast going.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The woman takes me into the hallway, and unlike my last visit, there are Blood People scrambling in every direction, carrying bowls, trays and silver goblets. The air’s filled with the aromas of flowers, roasted Flier meat—yuck—and the pungent scent of herbs that remind me of fennel.

We continue down the narrow hall made of stone walls and arched ceilings. We pass the room where I once witnessed the staff draining a War Woman to feed the Blood People army. Today, I catch a glimpse inside, but now there are dozens of iron pots filled with squiggly tentacles, bubbling over open fires on the floor. I guess it’s a good thing the palace is made of stone, but I definitely won’t be feasting tonight unless a sealed microwave dinner shows up.

We walk another ten minutes until we reach a set of dark wooden doors with a silver serpent insignia.

“Right through there,” she says. “You are to take the seat to the left of our Blood King.”

“Thank y—I mean good.” I push on the door and enter a massive banquet hall with an open-air ceiling and large banners on the stone walls. Each banner has a coat of arms depicting various creatures and objects: books, trees, a wolflike creature, the silhouette of a dragon. One depicts a stone wall with crisscrossed swords. It must belong to the War People. I look up at the night sky, there are no stars out tonight, but purple streaks light up the night in a spectacular display of monster fireworks. It’s magical yet terrifying.