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Chapter

Thirty-Eight

S ilence hangs in the air in the wake of Remy’s accusation. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. All I can do is stare into the face of the man I love like a father, begging the Fates to let me wake up from this nightmare.

Remy belongs to the whisperer now.

When did it happen? I rack my brain, trying to remember the last time we spoke? He’s been so busy searching for the sword, I don’t think I’ve truly spoken to him since the night of the ball.

The night my father was murdered.

No. No, that couldn’t have been Remy. Memories of him glaring at my father that night make their way to the front of my mind, forcing me to see what I should have noticed then. He wasn’t himself. I assumed it was because he was exhausted, but I was wrong. The almanova had already latched onto him.

Remy is one of the Forsaken.

Baylor’s hand snaps out, snagging my wrist in a tight grip. His claws prick against my skin in warning. “Have you any proof of this claim, Captain?”

Remy nods. “There are several witnesses who can place her at each crime scene.”

I’d bet my life those witnesses are all Forsaken.

“But what made me suspect her in the first place is the fact that I saw her exiting Lord Pomeroy’s room around the time of his murder,” Remy adds. “And she had blood on her clothes, Your Majesty.”

My fists clench at my sides as I pull against Baylor’s hold. “That’s a lie.”

“Why did you wait until now to bring me these concerns?”

Remy lowers his gaze, his features twisting with false sorrow. “Forgive me, my king. I was conflicted about turning in someone who’s been like a daughter to me.”

I bark out a laugh.

“Do you deny these claims?” Baylor raises a brow.

“Yes!” I insist. “I didn’t kill my father.”

“And what of the others?” He tilts his head. “You didn’t kill those people in the city, did you, pet?”

I open my mouth to deny it, but I can’t bring myself to lie. Not anymore. Still, there’s no way I’m admitting to more than I have to.

“My hands may be filthy with blood,” I admit, hating how true the statement is. “But none of it belongs to Nigel Pomeroy. I was in my room that whole night.”

“If only someone could verify your whereabouts.” Baylor sighs dramatically. “Wasn’t that the night you refused to come to my chambers?” He tsks as his fingers squeeze my wrist tighter and his claws break the skin. “What a pity. If you’d simply done as I asked, I could have been your alibi.”

“You know I didn’t do this,” I tell him, ignoring the pain.

“I don’t know any such thing.” A vicious smile breaks across his face. He’s enjoying his revenge after our earlier conversation. “Captain, it appears we’ll need to keep my dear fiancée under supervision until we can get to the bottom of these matters. Take her to her chambers and station a guard outside her door. And tell no one of her involvement in these crimes.”

Panic sets in. Pulling on my power, I begin to wrap myself in an illusion, but Baylor yanks on my arm. He pulls me closer as his hand darts out to grip my collar, his thumb pressing into the rubies.

“No so fast, pet,” he orders. “Drop the illusion.”

I comply immediately, unable to deny any order given while his hand is touching the collar.

“That’s better,” he croons. “I prefer you obedient. Now, you’re going to be good and let Captain Remard escort you to your chambers. You will remain there until I come get you. Tell me you understand, Iverson.”

The order settles over my skin, leaving it tight and itchy.

“I understand,” I whisper.

“Good.” He moves to hand me to Remy but stops at the last second. “One more thing. You need to decide how you want the rest of your life to play out. We can continue on in the way we’ve always done, or I can take away your illusion of free will and show you just how much of a prisoner you really are. The decision is yours, but you’d better make it quick, pet. You know I can’t stay away from you for long.”

Finished with his threats, he allows Remy to drag me out of the study. The guards give us curious glances as we pass but say nothing. Reality mirrors my dream as Remy leads me through the halls. Inside, I scream at myself to fight back, but my body refuses, unable to disobey Baylor’s order.

“When did the whisperer claim you?” I demand.

He ignores my question.

“I know you’re still in there, Remy. You can fight this.”

He gives me a cold glare. “I stopped fighting it the moment I murdered your father.”

“You killed my father because you still care about me,” I insist. “I know you do.”

He shakes his head. “You’re wrong.”

“You did it to protect me.”

He doesn’t answer.

“I know somewhere deep down you still want to help me, Remy. You have to fight.”

He opens the door to my room, tossing me inside.

“I’m done fighting. He’s coming for you, Ivy. When you hear the whispers, you’ll know he’s close.”

He slams the door, leaving me to face my fate alone.