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The words had barely settled before a Sanctifier stepped forward and struck him down. The blow landed with a sickening crack, echoing into the silence as Ren crumpled.

“Your drunk cousin goes first,” he said, drawing a ripple of laughter from the others. “Then it’s your turn.”

The crowd didn’t move. No one dared.

Dareth turned to the man beside him. “Lash her,” he said. “Then she will be hanged and disemboweled, her anima forcibly removed and scattered to the winds. And take your time. Ithink some of these people may have forgotten what we do to sympathizers. Let’s remind them.”

Taly slammed into the ground. Hands forced her down, rough and unforgiving.

Then two fingers settled at the base of her spine.

Her breath hitched. Her heart stuttered.

She braced herself.

Chapter 74

Taly understood pain. She knew what it felt like, how to weather it. When she dreamed of the palace, it was all she could remember.

But at the first prick of white-hot agony, she realized—she knew nothing at all.

Pressure at her spine, and it was building.Burningas vines—thorns—burrowed beneath her skin and wrapped tight around her spinal cord.

It was an archaic method of torture, not illegal, but certainly looked down upon in civilized circles.

The thorns slithered from her spine, branching outward like roots—twisting along her nerves and tearing through everything in their path.

Eventually, she would either bleed out or the thorns would strangle her heart. But that would take time. As much time as the earth mage standing over her decided it should.

Her skin felt tight, stretched to its limits as the vines coiled deeper inside her.

She felt them twisting, expanding—tendrils creeping through her like living chains.

Every breath was a battle.

Shards, oh Shards, it hurt.

Her eyes scanned the crowd. A few dared to look back, their gazes holding hers for a breath before shame or fear forced them away. Most couldn’t look at her. Their heads dipped low, eyes fixed on the ground, as if acknowledging her might mark them as next.

Sanctifiers held her arms and legs as thorns slithered along sensitive nerve endings, causing them to fire. Taly thrashedwildly. She bit her lip so hard it bled. Tears blurred her vision. She couldn’t stop them.

But she didn’t scream.

Blood sliding down her back. Blood on her face. Blood pooling beneath her.

Blood, blood, and more blood as the thorns kept digging, kept slicing.

Thorns writhed beneath her skin, stabbing up through her wounds. Delicate like rose vines, green and slightly curling, they glistened with red.

But she did not scream.

She wouldn’t give them the fucking pleasure.

She’ddiebefore she let them see her break.

Taly didn’t make a single sound.

Not as blood frothed on her lips.