Page 123 of Brutal Crown

He speaks again. “She has defied the Rite. Broken the terms of the Binding. She is no longer protected by tradition.”

He lifts a single bony finger and points it at me.

“The girl lives—for now. Take her home. Tomorrow, she will return to hear the judgment of the Circle. Until then, she remains under our watch.”

He waves a hand, and the guards step forward.

I’m still on the stone floor as the guards step forward. I’m too weak to fight them. My feet are raw, and my limbs no longer work. I barely register the movement as they lift me and carry me toward the archway leading outside the temple.

I don’t see Francesco again. I don’t even know if he’s still in the room.

But maybe it’s better that way.

I close my eyes. My body is wrecked. My future uncertain. But something inside me—something stubborn and starving finally exhales.

This isn’t freedom. Not really. I’m still theirs. Still a prisoner of this world.

But for the first time, I said no.

Outside, the place where the ritual was held is silent when they lay me near the altar stones. A sigh escapes my lips as Iwelcome the bite of cold night air against my wounded skin. Around me, I hear the crowd dispersing—the soft drag of robes across the floor, whispers floating in the darkness. I don’t open my eyes. I don’t move. I just wait for the car to come.

I lie there for a long time, until my breath evens out and my pain feels a bit more bearable. It will take a while for my physical body to heal completely, but my mind and soul are already whole.

After a while, a black vehicle waits by the back exit, its engine already running. It’s one of Marco’s—I recognize the crest stamped on the side.

A driver steps out and opens the door. He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t say a word.

I’m not being taken home. I’m being stored.

When he asks where to take me, I tell him. It’s a pointless request, but he nods and drives.

Maybe they’ll kill me tomorrow.

Maybe they’ll make an example of me.

But tonight, I want the sky.

I’m backat the Romano estate. My eyes flutter open to the stars above, spinning slowly across the sky. I survived. Somehow. At least until tomorrow.

When the driver Marco arranged pulls up to the gates, I tell him to take me to the courtyard instead of my room. I’m not ready to go back there.

Hell, I don’t even know if it’s mine anymore.

I’ve rejected Marco. Shamed the ritual. Burned every expectation they had for me to ash. Tomorrow, they’ll decide what to do with me.

But tonight, I just want to lie beneath the stars and pretend—if only for a moment—that things might be different when I wake.

By tomorrow, the Society will determine the punishment for my disobedience. But right now, I just want to lie here—to take a deep breath and laugh, because I’ve finally caught a break. It may end in my death, but I’ve made peace with that—because it’ll be on my terms. Not theirs. Not Dante’s. Not anyone else’s.

My body stiffens when I hear rustling in the small bushes around me. The sound thickens, and I make it out to be footsteps. Despite my injured state, my body jerks up at the sounds near me.

That’s when I see masked figures rushing toward me from the side gate. Their faces are covered in black masks, and their movements are swift.

I try to stand up, but my body is too weak.

Before I can even scream, one of them rounds on me and presses a cloth hard over my mouth.

A sharp chemical smell pierces my nose. With the little strength left in me, I thrash against them. My arms swing wildly, and my feet kick on their own accord as I feel two hands clamp against me. But it’s no use. I’m already far spent. My strength is gone.