“Yes. Not that long ago, unfortunately,” James said, with another sigh.
Asher looked at him sidelong. “Do you ever regret it?”
James looked at him with hard eyes. “No. And you won’t, either.”
Asher looked away, nodding. Noah deserved justice, as did his father.
Troy spluttered a cough and shifted in the chair he was bound to but his eyes remained closed.
James leaned forward and slapped his cheek.
Troy’s eyes sprung open and it seemed to take him a few moments to focus. His eyes locked on Asher.
Troy opened his mouth to speak and winced. He rocked forward, as if trying to relieve his pain. But his pain was just beginning.
He opened his mouth gently, managing to speak this time.
“Your . . . Majesty,” he said, mockingly.
“You’re such a disappointment,” Asher said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Why did you do it? Power? Money? Why?” he demanded, his voice rising.
Troy looked like he was trying to smile.
“Your . . . family . . . incompetent,” he said, coughing. Blood dribbled down his chin.
Asher’s eyebrows lifted and his teeth ground together. His father wasn’t incompetent, and he refused to be—but he pushed those feelings aside for the moment.
“Why Noah?” Asher asked.
Troy raised an eyebrow. “Because he was smarter than all of you,” he said with hard eyes. “He came to me concerned about whispers of a revolt. He didn’t want to worry you, and he didn’t think you could do anything about it—so he came to me instead. He wanted me to help shut it down.”
Troy scoffed and Asher wanted to smash his fist into Troy’s nose.
“I said I’d work on it,” Troy continued. “But Noah wasn’t stupid, and he had me followed. Did you know that? His mistake was thinking he was untouchable because of you. He thought Jesse would protect him.”
“You organized the switch of the meds in his IV bag, didn’t you?”
“It was so easy,” Troy said with an arrogant smile.
Asher lunged forward, but James had a grip on him before he could raise his fist.
Troy laughed. “Your Majesty, look at you now! This role will break you before you’re a few years in. Your father had one thing that you don’t: resilience.”
Asher grit his teeth. “I’m going to kill you. You will pay for their deaths.”
“You can’t stop it. You’re too late. The wheels are in motion, and it’s only a matter of time. And if you kill me, you’ll never find that boy,” he said with a knowing smile. “If the babysitter doesn’t hear from me within the next twenty-four hours, the boy won’t live to see the next sunrise. Of all the gifts Alistair gave me, that screaming little thing is the best. I couldn’t have asked for better leverage.”
“You’re going to tell us where he is,” James said beside him. His voice was cool, calculated.
Troy looked at him for the first time.
“I’m not weak like the others—like the captain. You can’t make me talk,” Troy said, lifting his chin to regard James coolly.
Asher looked to James, whose lips turned up.
“I can make anyone talk,” James said flatly.
Asher looked back to Troy, who smiled. “The thing is, I just need to hold out for twenty-four hours, and then it won’t matter. The boy will be dead, and I’ll die a happy man.”
James stood with a scalpel in his hand. Asher didn’t even know where he’d gotten that from. Had it been up his sleeve or had he been holding it the entire time?
James Thomas—the deadly magician.
James walked around Troy, stopping to stand behind him. For the first time since Troy had opened his eyes, his confidence wavered.
“King Asher,” James said, placing his hands on Troy’s shoulders. Troy jumped.
James continued. “Here’s your first lesson of the day. I’m going to teach you the fastest way to remove someone’s face. The ability to skin someone alive is a tool all men should have, don’t you think?”
Troy’s pupils dilated and Asher would’ve smiled, except that he couldn’t forget—despite it all—that the man sitting in the chair opposite had once been his confidant.
His cousin.
His blood.
James pressed his scalpel to Troy’s forehead and sliced from the center of his forehead to his earlobe.
“Step one,” James said, his voice chillingly cold. “Slice the skin from forehead to chin.” His scalpel continued tracing Troy’s jaw, stopping at his chin.
Troy hissed, breathing heavily. Asher’s stomach rolled and he wasn’t sure he had the stomach for this, but James Thomas seemed to be in his element—his eyes danced with excitement.
“How are you feeling?” James asked, leaning over Troy. He asked the question so pleasantly is was almost comedic.
“Fuck you!” Troy spat.
“Very well,” James said, straightening. “Asher, step two: repeat on the other side.”
Troy groaned and hissed, bucking against his restraints, swearing obscenities Asher was sure he’d never heard before.
“Step three is where things really become fun,” James said with what appeared to be a genuine smile. “It’s a little tricky and it takes some practice, but luckily I’ve had a lot of it.” James reached an arm around each side of Troy. “The trick is to get your fingers underneath the thin skin of the chin. And then you slowly peel up, like peeling a thin layer of onion. Don’t go too fast, otherwise the skin will rip.”
James touched Troy’s chin, feeling along the cut lines. Troy screamed, bucking and hissing. Asher’s stomach clenched but he didn’t make a move to stop James.
“Ready to talk, Troy? I can peel one inch of skin for the next twenty-four hours . . . and you still think you can survive me?”
“Fuck you!” Troy screamed, livid.
James shrugged casually. “On the count of three, Troy. Three, two . . .” James dug his fingers into Troy’s cut and he bucked in agony, but Asher refused to feel sympathy for the man in front of him.
“That was only a millimeter. An inch an hour,” James said in a singsong voice. “On the count of three. Now, take a deep breath, Troy,” he said, mockingly. “Three, two—"
Asher looked up at a violently shaking Troy. His eyes rolled back in his head and his labored breaths came out like whispered screams, but he didn’t utter a word.
“How are you feeling?” James asked, mockingly as he massaged the torn skin on Troy’s face, ripping it farther. Blood bubbled out, sliding down Troy’s throat.
James’s phone rang and he paused to take the call. Asher watched him flip from torturer to businessman in a split second.
“Thanks,” he said before ending the call. He looked at Asher, tilting his head to the door.
Asher had no idea what was going on, but he stood on legs that were a little weak beneath him.
James crouched in front of Troy. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in a minute.” He stood and walked out of the room and Asher followed.
“He’s not going to break,” James said as he closed the door behind them. “And if I keep going, the torture will kill him. I’d still like him alive at this stage.”
Asher’s eyebrows threaded together. “How do you know he’s not going to break?”
James sighed. “Because there’s only two types of people that don’t break: the ones who are insane, and the ones who are devout. Troy is the latter, and he believes so deeply in his convictions that he’s prepared to die for the cause. I’ve run into his kind before.”
“The cause to ruin my family because we’re so inept that we would destroy Santina?” Asher asked, bitterly.
James nodded sympathetically. “They’re his convictions, but that doesn’t mean they’re well founded.”
“Yet he’s managed to assemble a group of people who clearly think the same. How many Santinians believe it too?” he asked, not actually expecting James to have an answer. Asher pin
ched the bridge of his nose. “What’s the plan now?”
“Samuel was able to see Troy entering the station on CCTV footage. The team is working on tracking him back through the streets to see where he came from. We have twenty-four hours to find Alistair’s son—that part is likely true—so we need to use every minute of that time. Troy isn’t going to give us anything so I’m not going to waste my time. I’ll work with Samuel and see what we can find. We’re also running some logistics on his cell phone. It’s an untraceable device but we might be able to get something from it.”
Asher sighed heavily. “Okay,” he said, unable to ignore the churning deep in his stomach.
How many Santinians believed he was going to fail?
Maybe they were right.
James’s eyes looked behind Asher. He turned to see Reed approaching.
“There’s nothing more you can do right now,” James said. “I’ll keep you updated.”
Asher sighed heavily. “I’ll go to my office.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Reed said and Asher noted the stitches on his cheek.
“Yeah, I’m not impressed,” Reed said, following his gaze.
Asher didn’t miss the smirk on James’s face. “Your face looks a lot better than his did after you bludgeoned it.”
Reed looked through the viewing window. “Now you’ve made a mess of my masterpiece,” he said dryly.
Asher looked to James. “How many people have you skinned alive?” he asked. He didn’t really want to know the answer, but he thought he should probably know.
The man paused, as if seeming to have to mentally count them all.
Asher shook his head. “I don’t need the details,” he said, holding up a hand.
James paused, then nodded. “I should’ve given you warning but my plan changed once he started talking,” he said with sympathy, a stark contrast from the man who had been holding the scalpel a few minutes ago. “I will do whatever is needed to protect you, Asher. And to do that, I need to be efficient. I could’ve pulled his fingernails or sliced off his ear, but that all takes time—time we possibly don’t have.”
Asher nodded once. He understood the logic, but he wasn’t sure what disturbed him most—what he’d just seen, or that he hadn’t made a move to stop it.
Asher wasn’t sure he was going to recognize the man he saw in the mirror tonight.
Abi
Abi heard the water running when she walked into the living quarters. She made a cup of tea and settled on the couch before turning on the television, not caring what she watched.
When the program ended some time later, she realized almost an hour had passed—and the shower was still on.
She put her tea on the table and ran for the bathroom, then opened the door, not even bothering to knock.
Abi expected to find him on the floor, but instead Asher was there standing tall, his head tilted back, letting the water fall on his face.
The sight stopped her, and for a moment she couldn’t look away.
She cleared her throat. “Asher?”
He opened his eyes. There was something off about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She thought he might be uncomfortable or embarrassed standing naked in the shower. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him naked before, but still . . .
Instead he curled two fingers and motioned her in.
She raised her eyebrow and then decided she couldn’t think of a good reason not to join him.
She slid her pants over her hips, letting them fall to the floor then lifted her top over her head and threw it with her pants. Asher undressed her with his eyes as she threw her lingerie on the pile. He held out his hands and welcomed her in.
“Hey,” he said as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Hey. Are you okay?” she asked gently. “You’ve been in here a long time.”
“I felt . . . I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head.
Abi looked at him, biting her lip. “Why?” she asked.
He gave a crooked smile. “I’m scared of James Thomas. Hell, I’m scared of myself.”
Abi looked up at him, almost laughing at the odd expression on his face—except there was nothing funny about it. It was like he couldn’t decide if he was sad or darkly amused.
“What happened?” she asked.
Asher paused for a moment, then shuddered. “Apparently James thought I needed a lesson in removing a man’s face.” He looked away from her. “The most disturbing thing is that I watched him and didn’t make a move to stop it. I don’t even think I flinched.”
“Hmm,” she muttered, not entirely sure what to say.
“It’s an efficient and effective torture technique,” Asher said, like it was a phrase he was repeating. “Supposedly, anyway, but Troy’s not talking.”
Abi’s eyebrows lifted. “He didn’t break?” She couldn’t believe that—Abi didn’t think she’d be able to hold out if James Thomas was cutting her face off.
Asher’s jaw set and his eyes darkened. “This all started because they thought my father was useless and that I would be too. They killed Noah because he found out about their plan.” He shook his head sharply. “Everything my father did was for this kingdom. He served Santina well. I don’t care if they doubt me, but to disregard everything my father contributed? To the point where they were willing to kill him to end his reign? I can’t . . .” he said, his voice strangling.
Abi cupped his cheek. “That is not what Santina thinks. The opinion of Troy and his little minority is not the opinion of the majority of your people. Look at their support for you, Asher. They believe in you.”
“Maybe they’re right about me. Maybe I’m not fit to lead,” Asher said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back.
“Maybe that’s what they want you to believe,” Abi said slowly. “Troy’s still playing games with you. Even now.”
Asher opened his eyes and looked at her.
“Don’t give him that power. Use your anger to prove him—and all of those who think the same way—wrong. Use it as motivation,” she urged.
“I don’t even know who I am right now,” Asher whispered, as if he was scared to admit it. “What I just saw should’ve made my skin crawl, but I justified it in my mind and I sat there and watched it,” he said absently, seeming to go back to that moment.
“You won’t be the same person tomorrow that you were yesterday, Asher, and you certainly won’t be the same person next year. You’ll do whatever it takes to save Santina, and that’s something you should be proud of,” Abi told him, meaning every word.
Asher’s eyes locked on hers and she brushed her lips over his. He gave a deep moan and turned her around, backing her up against the shower wall. She knew he was using sex as a distraction, but she didn’t care. If that helped him cope, so be it.
“I really like this idea,” he said, planting kisses up the soft skin of her neck.
She felt him harden against her waist.
He moaned into her ear. “You feel so good,” he whispered.
His hands slid down to her ass. He leaned into her, pressing her back flat against the wall. He licked the droplets of water running over her collarbone, up to the soft space below her ear. Abi closed her eyes as he sucked on her earlobe, and heat exploded deep in her belly. A soft moan fell from her lips and she barely recognized the sound of her voice. Asher groaned in response.
One hand trailed up her inner thigh, causing her to shudder. She rocked her hips forward into his hands. Her body screamed for more.
His fingers slid through her wet folds and brushed over her clit. He teased the small bud mercilessly. Her body wound tight, coiled and waiting for more.
Abi’s entire body shook, and it only seemed to encourage Asher.
“I need you, please,” she begged. She was not above begging, especially not now.
“I’ll give you everything you need,” he said in a throaty voice, and Abi didn’t think he was just talking about sex.
Her brea
thing was rapid and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in. Only a few inches separated them, but that was still too much.
“Asher,” she moaned as the heat deep in her hips built. Her entire body ached for him.
“I love it when you say my name like that,” he said huskily as he pushed two fingers inside her, and her world exploded. She folded into him, letting him hold her as her legs gave way beneath her. She rocked against him, grinding as she reeled from her orgasm. Asher gave her a minute, his hands soothing her, bringing her back to earth.
He lifted her chin, guiding her eyes to him. Their gaze locked, and she felt the tip of his hard cock before it pushed into her, stretching her wide. His eyes stayed on hers, never looking away, as he continued to rock in and out of her. He’d captured her eyes and her soul, and she was lost. In that moment, she never wanted to be found. There was something about the look in his eyes, and the domination with which he demanded her gaze—it was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. She’d hardly been a virgin before Asher, but she’d never had a lover like him.
But then, when did Asher ever follow the rules? He made his own rules, and his train was one she didn’t want to get off of. She was along for the ride—in and out of the bedroom.
He released a low, guttural moan that sounded more like a groan. Abi’s breath hitched in response, and that only seemed to encourage him further. He pressed his palms into the wall and pushed harder, slamming into her, unleashing everything he’d been holding in.
Then he broke the hold on her gaze and his mouth came crashing down, consuming her as his body shuddered and he slowed.
Abi kissed his shoulder, letting her lips linger.
“Fuck me,” Asher swore as he nuzzled into the crook between her neck and shoulder. He nipped and sucked the delicate skin softly and Abi opened her neck to him.
Slowly, his breathing settled and he pushed against the wall once more. He stood straight, peering into her eyes. He wore an arrogant smirk, seemingly pleased with his performance.
Abi grinned. “Yes, you just blew my mind,” she said, her own throat husky.
Asher chuckled. “I don’t know where that just came from.”
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