She didn’t wait for his response before making her escape.
Unfortunately, she didn’t take more than a few steps when his hand landed on her elbow. His fingers dug viciously into her flesh, only stopping when she winced. She gritted her teeth against the need to retaliate and gave him her best confused look, batting her lashes at him.
He appeared confused at first, releasing her to run a hand down his crisply pressed jacket. “You should remain here. Daxion will be making an announcement soon.”
“Oh, then I should be at his side.” When she tried to move away once more, his hand lashed out, grabbing her wrist in a brutal grip and refusing to release her. By tomorrow morning, her arm would be covered with a motley of bruises that was going to put Mason in a rage if she didn’t have a chance to use her gifts to heal before he saw them.
Rage darkened Karl’s eyes, his lips flattening, and he leaned forward to snarl at her, “You don’t get to walk away from me and disrespect me in front of everyone. When we’re married, I’m going to enjoy showing you your place.”
When her jaw dropped, his expression turned smug. He took a sip of his drink and smiled at people passing them.
After she got over her shock, Annora couldn’t help it and laughed in the asshole’s face. “Sorry, but I’m too much woman for a man like you. You literally wouldn’t know what to do with me.”
Wrath darkened his face, a vein throbbed alarmingly on his forehead, and she started to worry that it would pop. Sadie and Cedwyn also looked alarmed, ready to charge to her rescue, but she waved them away. For the first time since she’d joined the party, she was actually enjoying herself.
He gave her wrist a brutal twist, her bones creaking.
Annora only smiled, her voice light and singsong. “Careful, or you might break it. Whatever would other people think?”
He hissed, his smile more of a baring of teeth. His chest was heaving with rage. “I’m going to love keeping you in line, half-breed. You’re an abomination. No one will interfere or care what I do to you once we’re married.” Excitement shimmered in his eyes, and he pulled her close, licking his meaty lips, his arousal grinding into her hip. “It won’t take long to break you.”
Disgust twisted in her gut, the thought of him touching her revolting. It sickened her to realize that he had a taste for violence, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many other women he’d brutalized and broken.
At least her uncle had spared her that…couldn’t have his clients dying when she killed them for touching her. That would be bad for business.
She would enjoy taking this piece of shit apart a little bit at a time.
Magic skated against her, and she glanced down when her dress quivered alarmingly. Instead of flowing fabric, the dress looked like it was made up of thousands of tiny spiders linked together, squirming as they vied for space. She could feel their furry little bodies wiggling against her, and the brush of thousands of feet on her skin. Dozens of bites pierced her flesh, and a few of the bolder spiders scurried down her arm.
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to try harder than that…really get your hands dirty.” Annora didn’t even bother trying to flick the spiders away, instead giving him a pitying look. “Your illusions are top notch, I can actually feel them on my skin, but they really don’t compare to being locked in a small space with real spiders for days on end. The pain from the bites is pretty realistic, but they’re only an annoyance. You’re missing the venom that makes the experience pure agony.”
He gaped at her, and she tutted, reaching over to close his mouth. “Daxion really hasn’t told you a thing about me, has he?”
He jerked away from her, disappointment and confusion playing across his face at her complete lack of fear. The best way to put a stop to this ploy would be to rattle him so much, he began to doubt their plans for her.
There was no fucking way in hell she would marry him.
“You wouldn’t be the first man to think he could break me. My uncle tried everything he could to bring me to heel, but he failed.” Disbelief warred in his eyes, and the jerk hiked up his chin, positive he would succeed where her uncle failed.
“We’ll see,” he sneered.
Annora nodded, stepping closer to him. “Yes, we will. I think I was twelve when he tried to skin me alive. Well, the first time, anyway. He just didn’t have the skill or the patience for it. He got better and better at it each year, but there is a delicacy to the human skin that takes years of practice to master.
“He could never perfect the skill. He would ultimately get frustrated as the skin tore or he cut too deep and took a chunk of flesh. It doesn’t just take hours…if done right, it takes days, and it’s a struggle to keep the person alive. He even had special blades created specifically for the job.”
Karl went from curious to morbidly fascinated, hanging on her every word.
“Eventually, he got bored and would finish the job by using a blowtorch to melt off my skin instead.” She grimaced as she recalled the agony. “You know the worst thing…? It’s the smell of burned hair and charred flesh. You see, he would starve me for so long that sometimes, my brain would smell the scent of cooked meat, and the hunger would claw up my insides.”
For the first time, true belief darkened his eyes and he stumbled away from her, but she stuck with him relentlessly. Darkness rose inside her, relishing the sweet taste of his fear. “My uncle did love his power tools. A nail gun was a special torture he saved for when I disobeyed. He would strap me down to a big, thick piece of wood,” Annora held her hands apart to show him the thickness, “then he would proceed to shoot nails into my flesh. Hundreds and hundreds of them. It would take hours to get it just right, so I couldn’t even move an inch. By that point, not a section of me was unmarked.
“Once done, he would hang the board upside down, suspend me from the ceiling, and wait for gravity and my own weight to rip me free. Most times, it took a day or so. It was the constant noise of my blood dripping that would drive me insane.” Annora became lost in the memory, clicking her fingernails to count off every few seconds in time to the soundless drips she could still hear. “It was relentless, never-ending, and fucking annoying as hell. Watching your life drain away a drop at a time becomes an obsession, a distraction from the pain. Eventually, it’s all you can hear—the constant, endless drip.
“Drip.” Click.
“Drip.” Click.
“Drip. Until your flesh finally rip free and you crash into a pool of congealed, decaying blood. The smell of death and rot is worse than you can ever imagine.”
She let her grin turn slightly maniacal. For each step he retreated, she followed. “So you go ahead, break my bones...that’s such an amateurish move, and really lacks creativity. A piece of advice—invest in a hammer. It’s easier to crack the bones that way.” She studied him for a moment, looking him up and down. “But you might want to start working out first. It takes a lot of stamina to break every bone in a person’s body. Hours of meticulous work so you don’t miss one.
“Are you sure you have the stomach to keep me in line?” Annora couldn’t resist taunting him when his face went pale. “My uncle may have been just a human, but he had a special talent and a vicious imagination when I refused to obey him. Don’t get me wrong…after weeks of torture, I eventually broke and did what he wanted, but every time, it took longer and became that much more work for him.”
“My god…you’re fucking insane.” This time he actually looked afraid.
“Quite possible.” Annora gave him a predatory smile. “Did my father not tell you? I heal from mortal wounds, so it takes a lot more to break me. I wonder if you have a strong enough constitution.”
Annora leaned closer, almost able to taste the darkness that waited under his skin. “You have some power, so you might be able to heal fast enough when I fight back, but I’m stronger. Much, much stronger—or did Daxion fail to mention that too?”
He frantically shook his head, completely rat
tled, stuttering as he spoke. “When…when we’re married, you…your power…it’ll be mine. We’re to be married this evening.” But his confidence was shaken, and he looked doubtful.
Ringing sounded in her ears at his announcement, and she stopped playing with him as things fell into place.
Marrying her off was the real trap, not the wards.
And she’d left her mates alone and vulnerable.
Darkness surged up from her bones, swirling around her dress, and she clenched her hands into fists to keep it from escaping. Her mates were safe, and she needed to remain calm if she wanted to keep them that way.
“You’re Daxion’s little guinea pig. If this works, he has his little puppet to do his bidding. If it doesn’t…” Annora shrugged. “You’ll be too dead to care.”
“I’m no one’s puppet.” Outrage sparked in his eyes, his thirst for power overriding any concern he had for his own safety. “Daxion is old and foolish. It’s past time for him to be replaced. If you’re as powerful as you claim, then we can come to a deal. We kill him and take over his seat on the council.”
Annora agreed that Daxion needed to be removed permanently, but Karl was completely fucking insane if he thought he was any match for Daxion.
“And you think you can accomplish that?” She shook her head at the moron, scorn for him leaking through her tone. “This is a test, you fucking idiot. Do you think he would just hand me over to you without precautions? He wants my power for himself, but it’s too much for him to handle alone.
“If we’re married, the dark matter will burn through you like a candle. As my powers kill you, it will leave me weakened, and that’s when he’s going to strike.”
It made a sick sort of sense.
If Daxion had her power, he’d become a bridge himself. It was doubtful that he’d kill her outright—he wouldn’t risk that her death would take away his new abilities—which meant the guys would remain prisoners to make sure she obeyed.
“Lies!” he hissed, sneering at her, but he looked shaken.
He could hear the truth.
Glasses clinked, breaking the stalemate, and she and Karl both turned to see Daxion standing on a pedestal. “I am happy to announce the joining of two houses in marriage—my daughter Annora from House Daxion and Karl from House Conway!”
Whispers erupted throughout the room. Sadie and Cedwyn looked alarmed, pushing their way through the crowd toward her.
Karl lifted his glass in the air, nodding and smiling at those who were looking at them, while his other hand lashed out and snatched at her wrist, his grip making her bones ache.
Annora could feel the noose tightening around her neck. If she didn’t stop this now, her fate would be sealed. Without an ounce of remorse, she allowed a string of darkness to rise. It lashed at Karl, peeling a strip of flesh off the back of his hand. He hissed in pain, jerking his hand back and scowling like a little boy whose toy was taken away.
“I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible.” Annora didn’t flinch, even when everyone’s attention swung toward her. “You see, I’ve already found my mates.” To prove her point, she lifted her arm in the air, her tattoo proudly on display between the gap in the bracer.
The crowd looked titillated by the scandal.
Daxion looked thunderous that she’d openly defied him, a muscle ticking in his jaw, his glare promising retribution. “Unfortunately, none of your mates are approved or recognized by the council.”
Nausea churned in her stomach at the thought of them refusing to acknowledge her mates.
“That’s not exactly true.” Edgar, dressed as a warrior, stepped out of the crowd, his sword strapped to his back, striding toward her like an apex predator stalking his prey. He moved differently from humans, more ruthless—not even shifters could match his effortless self-awareness.
His skin was pale and smooth, the angles of his face sharp, weathered by life and hardship. His jaw had a strong, stubborn look to it, and she couldn’t believe that she hadn’t recognized him for what he was when they first met—her mate.
Shocked gasps echoed around the room, excited murmurs ringing throughout the room as he reached her side and took her in his arms.
“You came.” She stared up at him, basking at his possessive claim in front of everyone.
“Always.” He cupped the back of her neck and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll always come for you, no matter what.”
Her heart melted, and she allowed herself to sink against him.
The babble of voices from the crowd rose, people desperate to find out how he could’ve survived so long on his own.
No one had ever returned from the banished lands after being gone for years.
Some gaped at Edgar with awe, more than a few glancing at her with disgust, no doubt believing she’d trapped him somehow.
But she saw nothing but Edgar.
He’d walked through the wards to reach her, faced his greatest fear…for her.
Then her chest tightened when she remembered the danger he put himself in by stepping forward.
As people began to crowd in on them, a quick glance showed the rest of the guys were stationed around the room, waiting for chaos to erupt.
Karl shoved forward with a scowl. “Prove you’re mates.”
A couple of other people nodded, glowering at the both of them.
Without hesitation, Edgar rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattoo that marked him as her mate. He held his arm out, and she followed suit. The two tattoos were side by side when the branches began to sway together, the roots digging deeper and growing.
People gasped, the room falling silent as they watched.
Edgar looked up and locked eyes with Daxion. “As your heir, I already have council approval. Annora’s mine.”
Annora flashed the unwelcoming crowd a vicious smile. “Now to prove my eligibility, a show of power, so no one can claim deceit.”
Dark matter swirled in the air around her as she unleashed all her anger and pain. Darkness spilled across the floor and up the walls. Candles sputtered and died, the remaining lights dimming, leaving the room swathed in gloom. The pristine walls began to crumble, the flowers wilted, and the glass windows turned to sand and rained down on them.
Her dress floated around her, glittering like diamonds in the murky room. Dark particles sailed on the air like a current, and her hair slowly untangled to drift around her. The weight of the world fell off her shoulders, and she felt like she was finally home.
Screams sounded as the crowd surged away from her, shoving and bumping into each other, trampling more than a who’d fallen. A rare few stood in awe, their hands reaching out as if they could feel the power. She wasn’t surprised to see the captain and Cedwyn among them.
“Those who tried to leave will find themselves stranded in the banished lands.” Edgar’s voice boomed throughout the room, halting the stampede of people as they tried to literally crawl over each other to get away.
Even over the shouts and yells, she heard the snarls and growls of creatures from beyond. Guards drew weapons, uncertain if they should attack her or defend the exits. While everyone was distracted, her guys strode through the crowd without an ounce of fear, taking up a protective circle around her.
Shapes began to form out of the darkness, and more than a dozen reapers stepped into existence in all their finery, scythes in hand, Livia in the lead. She glanced around the room, spotted Annora, and gave her a nod of greeting, then smiled broadly.
“A welcoming committee?” Livia raised a brow at her, standing tall and proud, her scythe gleaming bright with power. “When you said you would get us in front of the council, I had my doubts, but you honored your word.”
At that statement, pandemonium erupted.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Protect the bridge!” Valen yelled, and the reapers surged forward, standing between her and the rest of the room.
Leaving them at a standoff.
“Daxion!” Livia
tipped back her head and yelled, “Come and greet your wife, you cowardly asshole.”
People scrambled toward the edges of the room, leaving a furious Daxion facing off with his bride.
Livia tsked and chided him, “Only you would lack the balls and send a child to kill me instead of doing the job yourself.”
“Why don’t I remedy that right now?” Daxion snarled and flicked his wrist, a spiral of dark smoke bursting into the air, forming a sword nearly as tall as him.
“Stop!” Annora shouted, thrusting out her arm to bring up a wall of darkness between them, bringing them both to a stumbling halt. “You can’t kill the reapers, not if you want to maintain the balance. Without the reapers to retrieve the souls of the dead, dark matter will fill the world.”
More than a few phantoms seemed unfazed by the fact, and Annora wanted to smack them. “Maybe what you fail to understand is that dark matter is poisonous. So while you might have access to more magic, what happens when the rest of the world dies out and all the magic is gone in a decade or so?”
Unease spread throughout the room, the phantoms disturbed at the possibility of living without magic. “Reapers are being targeted first because they’re the first line of defense. The world needs to be put back into balance before it’s too late—a job that phantoms have neglected for over a century.”
“Don’t be foolish.” Daxion’s eyes blazed as he glared at her. “You’re a child who doesn’t understand our way of life. We’ve retreated from the world to preserve it. You have no right to judge what we had to do to survive.”
Though a couple of phantoms nodded with Daxion, the rest of the room remained divided.
“She’s a bridge.” Valen broke the silence, facing off against his brother. “They’re born in great times of strife to right the wrongs of our people. She speaks the truth.”
People were torn between horror that a half-breed like her had been given so much power and awe that a bridge lived among them once again.
Ransomed to the World Page 30