Page 145 of The Incendiary

White hot rage burned within me. I reached again to wield my magic, this time to control the water around me, but I couldn’t. The spokes were visible in my mind, but my fingers passed through each one like mist.

Where the fuck were they? Reaching into my wheel had become as easy as breathing, and yet both breathing and reaching felt impossible.

“Shera?” I called desperately down our pathway. “Shera, I think I need you.”

I normally kept my knife on the floor next to the stall wall, but I had been too tired, achy, and foggy to remember it. The last time I forgot my knife, that night in Damond’s tavern, all I had to do was scream and he’d been there.

“Celebrating what?” I shivered, despite the warm water. I needed to delay them, and maybe whatever came next wouldn’t happen. Maybe someone would walk in. Maybe that someone would be him.

Alec Gerard curled his lips into a sinister grin I would never forget.

“The Butcher of Nyrida is dead.”

FORTY-TWO

ARYELLA

If I never make it back to you, know it was all worth it just to see you smile again.

—FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I

I repeated his words in my head. Had I heard him correctly?

“That seems unlikely.” I grasped the arm stretched across my bare breasts to try to hide my trembling. They laughed and prowled closer. I hated myself for choosing the widest shower stall. Had it been smaller, they wouldn’t all fit.

“Unlikely,” Alec said, “but true. After our little gathering, the commander sent the four of us to investigate a sighting of a man that fit his description. We found him, and we killed him on sight.”

“I doubt that,” I croaked.

Alec tilted his head, a predator surveying its prey. “You don’t want this to be true? An allegiance to the Butcher would be quite the betrayal to our commander, wouldn’t it?”

“He’s a savage!” My voice cracked unconvincingly on the last word. It was true, and it wasn’t. “I just don’t believe you’re capable of killing him.”

Four against one? For anyone else, the odds weren’t good, but he wasn’t anyone else. The real question was: them against him? I’d watched him slaughter an entire band of Insidions in seconds. Eli taught his fighters well, but they had nothing on Gavin Smyth.

“You better believe it, because he’s dead.”

My eyes, nose, and throat burned with the urge to scream, but I lowered my voice to hide its shaking. “How would you know it was him?”

“We were given multiple markers to identify him,” Alec answered. “Scars. One on the left side of his face, among other places. He was quite the nasty-looking fucker.”

I shook my head and retreated until my back hit the wall. My foot slipped on the wet stone. I barely caught myself. “Lots of men have scars.”

“He had tattoos all over his body, too.” Alec closed in on me. “All over his arms, back, and chest. Tally marks.”

No.

I stopped seeing and breathing. For a few terrible moments, until my body sucked in only enough air to survive. Maybe I was lucky this was how they’d found me. Naked, so they were too distracted by my body to notice life leave my eyes. I felt the resilience, warmth, love he’d cultivated in me flicker, sputter, and die out like a flame deprived suddenly of air, and I knew if they were to see it go, they would wonder why.

But then Gerard uttered, “Does that mean anything to you, Your Highness?”

My knees buckled. My ears rang.

“What?” I breathed. This was all a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. “What did you say?”

“Molochai was right.” Gerard eyed my wet, naked body like a feast. “Our queen is quite difficult to resist.”

They knew.