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“Then why are you here?” He glanced at the cane. “Your brother?”

I shook my head.

His cheeks hollowed. “The Maiden.”

I smiled.

“You will not get your hands on her,” he swore, his dark eyes glinting. “I promise that. You won’t—”

“You know what I find fascinating about the trees that grow in the Blood Forest?” I interrupted, drawing my palm down the smooth side of the reddish-brown cane, enjoying the rumble of his anger. “Besides the fact that you clearly treat these canes as if they are an extension of your withered cock?”

Air hissed between his clenched teeth.

I chuckled. “While bloodstone leaves nothing left of an Ascended, the wood of a Blood Forest tree simply kills a vampry. Slowly. Painfully.” One side of my lips curved up as I met his stare. “Leaving the remains to rot and decay, just like any other body.”

Teerman swallowed. “And what does it do to an Atlantian?”

“Not much.” I smirked. “I bet that gets to you. The Ascended want so badly to pretend they’re Blessed by the gods. You and I both know that is a load of shit. You’re nothing special. You never have been. None of you are. You’re just a poor imitation of us, desperately clinging to the last vestiges of your waning power and privilege.”

“And do you think you’re any better than us?” he retorted.

“Most of us are. Me? No. I’m not that much better. Hell, perhaps I’m even worse than some of the Ascended. But you?” I pointed the cane at him. “You’re not even horse shit compared to me.”

“You insolent—”

“Traitorous, murderous bastard. I know.” I sighed. “Anyway, back to these canes.” I watched him through half-open eyes. “I know what you do with them.”

Teerman went silent.

“I know you’ve used them against her.”

His shoulders straightened. “And did she tell you that?”

“Poppy hasn’t said a word.”

Teerman’s brows shot up. “Poppy?” he repeated, and I knew I’d made a mistake there. I’d slipped. The Duke stared, a slow smile creeping across his cheeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Now, it was I who fell silent.

He tipped his head back and laughed. “Anyone else taking an interest in her wouldn’t have surprised me all that much. She has a…certain way about her. A fire.” He laughed again, and I went cold. “Her last guard had a soft spot for her. But you? The Dark One? Didn’t see that coming.” One side of his lips curled up. “Then again, Poppy is beautiful. Well, at least half of her i—”

I moved then, leaving the cane on the desk as I vaulted over it. In a heartbeat, I had the Duke by his shirt collar and his back against the spot my boots had just dirtied. I clamped one hand around his throat, just below his chin, pressing my fingers into his cold skin until the fragile bones there started to crack. I didn’t break them, though. I wanted the fucker to still breathe but not scream.

“You will not say her name again,” I said as a thin rush of air wheezed from his gaping mouth. “Not Penellaphe. Especially not Poppy.”

Teerman grabbed for the cane.

I caught his arm, snapping it at the elbow. The crack of bone made me smile as a low moan rattled out of him. He swung his other arm. I broke that one at his shoulder.

“Make one more move, and your legs will be next,” I warned as his skin dampened along his brow. “Do you understand? Blink once for yes.”

Teerman blinked.

“Perfect.” I patted his chest. “There is something I want you to understand. You were already dead before you ever laid eyes on me. You were already running out of time. But your death, why it’s coming now, it has absolutely nothing to do with the Blood Queen or the throne and lands you’ve taken part in stealing. It has nothing to do with my brother. You were right when you said it was because of her. You’re dying right now, right here, because of her.”

A tremor went through Duke Teerman as he struggled to breathe. He went as still as a fucking statue, though, when I picked up the cane.

“You’re dying because of this.” I watched him track the cane as I moved it above his face. “The last time you used it on her, how many times did you bring it against her skin?”

He moaned, flopping unsteadily on the desk.

I leaned in until our faces were inches apart. “Use your eyes. Blink,” I instructed. “Blink once for each lash you delivered.”

Teerman’s eyes remained wide for several moments, then he blinked. Once. Twice. When he got to five, a rage that tasted of blood unfurled in my chest. When he finally stopped blinking, I shook.

I fucking shook.

It was part horror for what he’d subjected Poppy to, and part awe that she had withstood it. And a couple of days later was out on that Rise. Godsdamn.