The Queen's Consorts (30 page)

But it all happened too fast.

He knew without a doubt the horrors of this day would burden him into the next life, and likely many more after that. He deliberately avoided looking at Kayla. She had to be dead. Her last scream had been hours ago. He was trying to keep his memories of her as pure as possible, and seeing her torn and brutalized body wasn’t how she would want him to remember her.

She’d fallen limp fairly quickly, which was a small blessing. Then Laysa turned on the young soldier who had the misfortune of facing down Taryen the night before.

He’d sold out the queen after three lashes.

Now he was dead, his body hanging limply next to Kayla’s. Laysa’s playroom was a gruesome mess. Blood was splattered all over the floor and pooled at the feet of both of her victims. Tools covered with gore rested on the table. Macro had assumed he and Haven were going to be next, until Calder and Taryen were brought in.

The soldiers and females left quickly, obviously desperate to be away from the consorts.

When the doors closed, Macro studied Calder, now chained down between him and Haven. He was blinking heavy-lidded, light eyes. Then in a wild rush, he jerked his arms, as if reality had just punched him in the gut. His head shot up, and he looked around frantically.

A shout of raw horror burst out of him as he stared at the bodies hanging in front of him. He fell back on his haunches, pulling at the chains that held his arms bolted to the ground behind him. His gaze went from the young soldier to Kayla.

He blanched, and Macro knew what was churning the young consort’s stomach. No male could look at the damage of one as young and beautiful as Kayla and not become ill. Calder didn’t have to be in love with her to be horrified.

Macro saw Calder swallow hard, his wide-eyed gaze still leveled in front of him as he stared at Laysa’s destruction. Even though he had been dealing with her sick tastes since he was far too young to even know of such things, let alone endure them, it was clear this was more than even he could comprehend.

He shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Kayla was special.”

“She was.” Haven’s voice was raw and dull with defeat.

It hurt Macro to hear it, which was likely the reason they had both stopped talking. Neither one wanted to hear the other’s pain. It made it all so much harder to bear.

“What?” Taryen started, making it obvious he had woken the same time as Calder had, which was common with consorts once they were bonded with their queen. “Macro, Haven, she’s not—”

“Is the queen dead?” Macro cut Taryen off before he could put words to what happened to the woman he had served body and soul in secret for five cycles. “Is all hope lost?”

Calder turned to him, his features haunted, as he whispered, “Not yet.”

“She rests,” Taryen finished for him, his voice far off as if trying to connect with his lost queen. “They’ve got her somewhere underground and—”

The doors opened before he could finish, and all four of them stiffened defensively. Macro had enough fight in him to be tense for battle. Especially knowing the queen was still alive. Perhaps there was a weak link in Laysa’s chain after all. She should have killed the queen and her consorts instantly, while they were sleeping, as she’d done the last time. The arrogance of ruling for so long had made her forget just how powerful a royal trifecta could be.

“I want the defective one tied up first.”

Calder craned his neck. His eyes narrowed as Laysa breezed into the room with Larim by her side and eight soldiers, including Katon, who had taken on Macro’s title of captain of the guard over the past several hours.

“You know you want me instead,” Calder said tauntingly. “Take me, and I’ll bleed for you willingly.”

“A charming offer, but not today,” Laysa said lightly as she walked up to Calder and looked down at him. “He’s more expendable. I plan to keep you for a while. I see you dressed for the occasion.
So eager to serve me as queen?”

Calder tilted his head, looking at Laysa incredulously. “I wore these for Sari…
not you
.”

“I’ll be sure to take that little digression out of your lifemate. I can stretch out the agony of death for a
really
long time.”

Calder’s breath whooshed out of him in one hard gasp, but then he locked his jaw and gave her a hard stare. How sad was it that a man not even twenty-one cycles was so accustomed to dealing with this level of abuse that he’d taught himself to remain silent even in the face of watching his lifemate’s death.

“You two know, of course, that any actions you take to fight your punishment as traitors to the crown will be taken out on that little whore Sari. She may have to be gassed to death, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have her body hung over the walls for the commoners to see. The birds can peck her down to the bone. Not the most diplomatic of ways to state my claim as ruler, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

Macro had to give Calder credit. He didn’t even flinch at the threat. He was like stone, simply staring at Laysa while the soldiers unbound Taryen, who was also stoic and silent when they forced him to his feet. He didn’t waver, despite the series of holes burned into his red robes from bolter blasts.

“Kayla’s dead,” Larim said.

Macro flinched hearing it out loud. He lowered his head, trying to hide tears he’d thought had dried under the heat of misery. Now they rolled down his face as Haven grunted on the other side of Calder. In that one tortured sound, Macro could hear the tears of his lifemate.

“Get rid of her,” Laysa said as if throwing out yesterday’s trash. “We’ll replace one defective for the other.”

Macro kept his eyes closed, and he refused to open them in honor of Kayla. He held her beautiful and unharmed in his mind instead. He wished he could block out the sounds too. The rattle of chains, the grunt of Larim personally carrying her body despite the fact that he was slight in build the way Garid had always preferred his males.

He didn’t blink until the doors were closed and Kayla was gone out of his life forever. Still he kept his gaze lowered as they stripped Taryen. He was fully bonded to a queen. His body was supposed to be for her eyes only.

He did tilt his head and stare at Calder when he heard them tie down Taryen. His gaze was still leveled at Laysa, harsh and unforgiving, the light blue hue glowing in fury. Macro could almost physically feel Calder’s anger, that’s how powerful it was. It made the hair on his arms stand on end, and for just a moment Macro had a shred of hope. Something about the moment made Calder and Taryen seem so much bigger than Laysa. This entire ploy to overtake them felt like the foolish attempts of a young one playing at something she didn’t understand. He remembered Kayla’s bright smile and her unwavering assurance that they’d already won, and even in his mourning he understood in a way he hadn’t before now.

Then the air whistled with the heavy slap of the flogger, and Taryen let out a shout before he choked on the sound. His breathing was harsh, filling the deathly quiet of the chamber, as they all remained silent in a show of brotherhood with Taryen.

“You know you can’t win,” Taryen whispered after one long moment. “And you can’t hurt me.”

Macro flinched at the thud of the nailed flogger against his back and the grunt of pain from the consort.

Still Taryen managed to rasp between clenched teeth, “You didn’t hurt Kayla either.”

Laysa’s laughter echoed over the slap of another strike of her flogger, this one harder than the last, making it obvious she was going to lash at him until he died like the rest of her victims.

* * * *

Sari stood at the shore with her feet in the sand as the ebb and flow of the waves washed over her ankles. She closed her eyes, feeling the breeze on her face, and inhaled deeply, smelling the crisp power of the sea.

She walked deeper into the tide, letting it embrace her. The water was warm, welcoming, protective, and she felt herself growing stronger the longer she stayed in its arms. Then she turned around, seeing the massive mountain standing guard and hiding this alcove to the sea. It was green with life, welcoming, and Sari felt as close to it as she did the ocean. It was impossible not to love the mountain that endured so much and yet never minded the difficult tasks the gods had burdened it with. Even as she stood there in the sunshine with the sea, she could see a storm raging—a ball of untamable madness, and it was directed solely at the mountain.

All she could do was stand there and watch as the tempest overtook it, lashing at it over and over, yet it stood strong and unwavering under the onslaught. She could see the winds and rain trying to carve deep impressions in the majestic cliffs, but it all just rolled off the mountain’s back, and Sari got the impression it could stand there
for a
millennia and remained unfazed.

As she stayed rooted to the sea, admiring the magnificent strength of the mountain enduring rather than fighting the storm, the ocean started pulling back, leaving her feet buried in the sand. She turned away once more, watching the tide recede farther and farther, showing the seashells and crabs that had been hidden only moments before. At first she thought it was running away, as if trying to escape from the threat of disaster brewing in the distance, but then she realized it wasn’t running—it was gathering strength.

When the sea suddenly decided to rush back at her with a speed that was hard for her brain to fathom, the wave it created was so massive she had to tilt her head way back, but the top of it was impossible to see. She knew the sight was terrifying, a wall of water so high it seemed to touch the sky. It would destroy everything that stood in its way, and Sari didn’t know why she didn’t fear the attack. Instead she stood there quietly as it rushed at her. She shut her eyes and surrendered to her fate, waiting for the swift death the ocean could deliver.

She blinked in confusion when the strike didn’t come. With the rush of noise deafening her, she looked around, finding that the wave had parted, leaving her safe and dry.

Shocked, she turned to watch it head toward the mountains. The ocean was terrified, and all the more dangerous because of it. Its wrath was incomprehensible. Water continued to swell and rage around Sari, a fathomless source of anger and power.

The mountain was a symbol of hope and would always endure, healthy and strong and untarnished by the cruelties of life. That’s why the gods made it so steady and unmovable, but the ocean was exactly opposite, always moving; it was nothing but motion. Seeing the mountain attacked once again was more than the ocean could tolerate. The mountain was his oldest friend.
His companion.
It didn’t matter that they all knew the mountain would be fine in the end. The ocean would destroy anything that harmed his companion, or die trying.

Yet it protected her too, keeping her safe in this secret shell of water to the point that she could no longer see the mountain, and something about that scared her.

* * * *

Sari woke with a start, finding
herself
on a cold stone floor. She opened her eyes wide, attempting to see, but she was completely encapsulated in darkness. Sick and disorientated, she tried to pull herself together, but then the flash of Taryen’s pain struck her so potently she actually cried out from the white-hot agony of it.

She could feel his suffering as if it were her own. She could see his blood, the spatter of it going so far it actually hit her face. She blinked past the images, knowing they weren’t hers.

They were Calder’s.

Somewhere in this palace he was watching Taryen being tortured, and this wasn’t like the usual lashes they endured as punishment. These were delivered with the sole intent to kill in the most brutal manner possible. She shrieked when she realized Taryen was actually dying…in front of Calder’s eyes.

The electric light of her rage lit up her cell, which was made completely out of stone. There was only a small door in the corner, with a flap in the bottom of it, and she ran to it. With her cheek flat against the stone floor, she pushed the flap open and screamed.

“Calder! Taryen! Come to me. I need you!” Her cries reverberated off the walls of the dungeon. With tears streaming down her face, she demanded, “Calder! Save him! Save Taryen for me! Don’t let him die! Do anything to save him! If he dies, I’ll die!” Knowing he was tied down, she added, “Break your bonds! Your soul is connected to mine! Make the gold obey you!”

She didn’t know what words they needed to save each other, but she continued to yell commands past the small flap in the floor. She could sense she was alone. Those who sought to keep her imprisoned were far outside the dungeon. None dared approach as the energy of her fury built and built until the entire room was a vibrating ball of silvery rage.

* * * *

The storm rose up without warning, more violent than anything Calder had seen before. The sky was black. Wind shook the windows. The lightning was striking everywhere, and the pressure became overwhelming to the point that he could feel his ears pop.

It was so massive it distracted everyone in the room, even Laysa.

Then something happened that made Calder forget the deadly hurricane hovering over the Sacred City. He jerked when it hit him, and he saw Taryen have the same reaction. His lifemate stiffened against the cross, his hands tightening their hold against the wood, and then he flexed his fingers as if trying to break his bonds. When Laysa grew bored of the storm, she struck him once more, but he didn’t make a sound. He was completely silent. His body had other issues besides the pain of that flogger. He’d just been commanded to do something when he was tied down and physically prevented from obeying.

It was the most horrible feeling Calder had ever experienced in his life.

His arms immediately pulled at the bindings, even to the point of pain, but he couldn’t stop or even wince at the cut of metal into his flesh. He had experienced his body acting on its own accord many times under the sister’s rule, but this was different. The force of Sari’s command, clearly made in the most primal thralls of fear, possessed him body and soul. The bolts creaked under the weight of his strength, which was far more powerful than usual. He’d either break free of these bonds or break his arms trying.