“Should we try to stitch the letters?” John’s voice trembled.
Zenith said, “Yes.”
I opened my mouth to tell them no, but another bone cracked in my back, and all that came out was a high-pitched scream.
“We need more supplies,” Scorpius said, and there was a commotion as everyone searched the bathroom for more first aid kits and rags. Everyone was distractedly looking.
Malum pressed his lips against my ear and whispered roughly, “I don’t care that your mother’s dead. That is not enough. Whoever served her will burn by my hand. Whoever failed to help you will burn by my hand. Whoever was within a hundred-mile proximity to her when she did this will burn by my hand. I swear it on the honor of the House of Malum. You will be avenged.”
I tried to speak, but my throat was shredded from screaming.
Turning my head to the side, I mouthed at him, “I hate you.”
I didn’t want his vengeance.
I didn’t want anything to do with him.
As I glared up at Malum, silver eyes hardened into molten steel.
He looked at me sadly.
For a long second, he looked soft and young.
Devastated.
Then his expression hardened. “You don’t have to forgive me, just like I don’t have to forgive them. I will make this right for you. You’re not alone anymore.”
Crack. I whimpered from agony and the pain in my heart.
Did he know that was what I wanted?
My deepest desire?
To finally belong. To have a family that loved me unconditionally.
There was a reason I latched onto Sadie and John.
“It’s not that simple,” I whispered. “Everything isn’t black and white.” I panted as I tried to keep my thoughts straight. “You can’t just murder people.”
Malum’s expression turned dark. “When it comes to those I care about, I can. I’m the Ignis of the illustrious House of Malum. I’m the twenty-seventh immortal king to serve the sun god since the dawn of time. I don’t deal in shades of gray. I hurt those who hurt what’s mine.”
He tipped his head back and bellowed, and fire shot from his tongue in a long arc. “She carved a slur into your flesh, Aran. Everyone who served her is dead. They’re all dead.”
Unconsciousness pulled me under, and one thought rang clearly through my head.
He couldn’t massacre an entire realm. Right?
Chapter 41
Orion
SCARS
Rebirth—Day 56, hour 6.
I turned to my Protector and said, “She has ‘WHORE’ carved into her back. It’s a dark enchantment.”
My lyrical voice rang loud.
I was too numb to control my power.
“Mother did it. The night before I killed her,” Arabella whispered.
Scorpius’s eyes widened, and he turned toward her with horror. He shouted, “What?!”
Arabella’s voice was drenched in pain. “She used to light me on fire. For fun. Just like you, Malum.”
As if something possessed me, I staggered forward and collapsed onto my knees beside her. Horror paralyzed me.
On her skin, blue letters glowed with enchantment.
“WHORE.” The W was too big, as if the person carving it had wanted to take up as much space as possible. The rest of the letters were jagged and cramped.
It was unmistakable.
That dead cunt had marked my sweetheart. Permanently. She’d tortured her with fire.
I pulled at my hair as I looked down at the fileted pale flesh.
Memories slammed through me.
We’d called her a slut. I ripped harder at my scalp because I couldn’t remember. Had we called her a whore?
The bathroom door burst into flames as my Ignis ripped it off its hinges.
Corvus lit her on fire, and we watched him do it.
A hideous sensation twisted in my chest.
Recognition dawned.
I’d wondered why she was always scratching absentmindedly at her back. I hadn’t cared enough to figure out why. I’d assumed she went into the bathroom to change because she was a woman. I’d assumed that was why she never took off her shirt in the bathhouse.
I ripped the hair out of my scalp, but it wasn’t enough.
I needed to avenge her.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was supposed to be my sweetheart. I was going to protect her and take care of her.
It was already too late.
She was marked.
I trembled as I knelt beside her, and tears streamed down my cheeks. John collapsed on top of her, and tears also ran down his face.
He cried for her.
I cried for myself.
Because for the first time in my life, I didn’t just hate what I was—I loathed it. I didn’t want to be a Revered. I didn’t want to be the person who was sheltered and protected.
I wanted to protect her.
I wanted to be her shield and her sword.
I wanted people to tremble at the sight of her because they knew I was standing beside her. Ready to carve anyone up who disrespected her. I wanted to bring her mother back from the grave so I could skewer her body parts on the pikes in front of our mansion.
One thing was for sure.
Every person in the fae palace was dead.
Every. Single. One of them.
No exceptions.
They were all complicit.
A disturbing calmness washed over me as I stared down at my sweetheart. I had a new life purpose, and it was attainable.
Everyone would pay.
Brutally.
Just like my mates, I had no mercy.
They wouldn’t stand a chance against us.
Chapter 42
Scorpius
SCARS
Rebirth—Day 56, hour 6
Arabella whimpered.
A chair sizzled as it caught on fire, and then there was a loud cracking noise as Malum ripped the bathroom door off its frame.
Orion and John gasped shakily as they knelt beside her body. They were probably inspecting the letters that were carved into her skin.
The demons stumbled, their feet tripping over the carpet as they backed away from the center of the room.
Arabella screamed in pain and kicked the floor with her foot.
So many sounds.
Everywhere.
I dug my fingernails into my palms to ground myself, but the pinpricks of pain did nothing. Every interaction we’d had with her flashed through my mind. All with perfect clarity.
We’d called her a whore.
Shamed her for killing her mother.
Made fun of her for being a prude and changing in the bathroom.
I remembered all the times she’d forgotten to breathe. Had she been in pain? Had she been suffering? I’d never bothered to find out why.
She’d told Malum that she’d experienced much worse than him. Was this what she’d been referring to? Her mother had lit her on fire and carved her up.
My hands trembled at my sides.
Bile crawled up my throat as an abominable thought hit me—Lothaire was her father. He hadn’t protected her. He’d let this happen to her.
She’d said it like her mother had lit her on fire frequently.
I slapped my hand over my throat as I felt the eye tattooed on my neck start to open. No. Not now.
Lothaire would die by my hand.
We just needed time.
To figure everything out.
I’d thought I’d known rage when Orion had explained that Xerxes shifted and Arabella used her body to protect him. For hours. The coward had hid beneath her instead of helping her.
She’d been stabbed with glass shards for hours.