Page 43 of Kidnapped By the Beast (Beasts of the Kindred #11)

brANDT

It was time—the petition had been signed and the crowd had been gathered.

Brandt had helped gather them himself—speaking to the ones who had been wronged, urging them to come.

And they had certainly listened—the Hall of Judgment was packed.

The air around him reeked of sweat, incense, and the acrid tang of fear.

Voices muttered and hissed in the packed chamber, the sound like the restless growl of a beast waiting to be unleashed.

Brandt stood at the center of it, shoulders squared, arms folded tight across his chest. His gaze was locked on the Magistrate who perched on his high dais, smug and self-important in his heavy robes.

This was the male who had sentenced Alexandra to pain and humiliation—today he was going to pay. Brandt continued to study him.

The light from the stained-glass windows in the vast chamber caught on the metal frames of the spectacles perched over all four of his beady little eyes. He looked down on the crowd below as if he were a god, not a worm fattened on power.

Beside Brandt, Alexandra trembled—but she didn’t cower. Her chin was lifted, her eyes sharp, her face pale but defiant. Just a few days before she had stood here helpless as she was sentenced to unspeakable torment. But despite that, she had come back again.

Brandt kept his arm around her, letting her feel his strength—letting her know she was safe. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, and pride swelled in his chest so fiercely it hurt.

She came back here, he thought. Back to the place where she was humiliated… tortured…terrified. And she’s standing tall. My brave little Lexi.

Dr. TOo-loo’s voice rose, firmer than usual, echoing off the stone walls. In his hands he held a long parchment, filled with signatures.

“Magistrate GrOin-der, complaints have been lodged against you—many of them. Enough signatures have been gathered to call for your removal.” He showed the parchment and the signatures. “By Terian law and tradition, you must step down.”

The Magistrate’s jowls quivered as he slammed one thick hand against the arm of his seat.

“Nonsense! You think you can strip me of my authority with a scrap of parchment and the whining of women? You and your off-worlder pets have no standing here!”

Brandt’s fists tightened at his sides, his nails digging into his palms.

Off-worlder pets, is it? He’s going to be fucking sorry he said that!

The bloody curtain edged at the corners of his vision as the Rage threatened to take over, but he forced himself to breathe, to wait. Not yet…not yet, he had to at least let this part play out.

“If you refuse to vacate your seat, the people may choose to pull you from it—then there will be no stopping their retribution,” Dr. TOo-loo said sternly. “Let me urge you to come down on your own rather than face their wrath.”

“I’ll hear no more of this!” The Magistrate pounded the arm of his chair again. “I’ll never vacate my seat—I have the rightful authority to sit here and pass judgment and no one can say otherwise.”

But his words seemed to have angered the crowd which had gathered. They muttered loudly but no one stepped forward. Brandt lifted his voice.

“Because of you, my woman was assaulted and publicly humiliated. You wouldn’t listen to her case—you just sentenced her arbitrarily to agony and torture!

You’re corrupt! Or else too damn lazy to do your job.

Either way, you don’t belong in a position of power over others!

You need to step down or we’ll bring you down! ”

His words seemed to break the tension and the crowd’s angry murmur swelled and rose. Defying a Magistrate was no small thing, as Dr. TOo-loo had explained. But now that he had spoken, maybe others would as well.

Then a Terian man shouldered his way forward, his face blotched with rage.

“My wife was raped because of you!” he shouted at the Magistrate. “You let your men put her in the stocks and strangers took turns with her! She’ll never be the same—her mind is broken!”

Another stepped up, his voice trembling with grief.

“My daughter was beaten nearly to death over a simple misunderstanding. You let it happen—you wouldn’t listen to her when she tried to explain!”

Another Terian man came forward, and then another and another. It was like a dam had burst. All their stories were similar—women that they loved had been beaten, abused, or assaulted—sometimes all three—because the Magistrate refused to hear their testimony or listen to them speak.

It became clear to Brandt very quickly that the bastard was what the Kindred called a Broken One—a male who derived pleasure from the pain of women. Either that or he simply hated everyone female. Either way, he deserved to lose his authority which he had misused over and over.

The noise in the chamber swelled—murmurs rising to shouts, fists pounding against palms as the crowd swelled and shouted.

And then Alexandra stepped forward.

“I want to be heard!” Her clear voice rang out above the rabble and somehow caught the attention of the crowd. Everyone hushed.

Brandt’s breath caught. Every muscle in his body tensed, fighting the urge to pull her back to safety as she pushed her way to the front of the crowd. But no, this was her moment—he had to let her speak.

Her hands trembled at her sides, but her chin was still high. Her voice shook at first, but each word grew steadier.

“You let your officers hurt me,” she said, her voice carrying through the hall.

“You ordered me dragged through the marketplace like a criminal, stripped of dignity. You put me in the stocks and locked a cruel device inside me that tore me apart with every step I took. You left me exposed while a crowd jeered and leered at my body. That wasn’t punishment—it was torture!

And it was all over a misunderstanding—but you wouldn’t listen to me! ”

Brandt’s chest swelled with fierce pride.

That’s it, sweetheart! Tell him. Make him hear you.

“You didn’t care that I was an off-worlder who didn’t know your customs,” she continued, her eyes burning. “You didn’t care that I begged you to listen. You didn’t care that I could have died! How many others have you condemned like that? How many more women have you destroyed?”

Her words were the final straw. Up until then, only men had spoken on behalf of the women they cared for. But to hear a woman who had been wronged speak for herself seemed to light the crowd on fire!

The chamber exploded with sound—the crowd roared as one, the sound deafening—the stench of angry sweat and rage filling the air.

The Magistrate paled, his four eyes darting wildly as people surged forward.

“No! No, you can’t do this to me!” he screeched, clutching at his heavy robes, trying to keep them out of the hands of the angry mob. “Officers! Officers, protect me!”

But the officers hesitated, and the mob rushed the dais. Hands tore at GrOin-der’s robes, dragging him from his lofty seat. His spectacles fell, clattering across the stone floor and were instantly trampled by hundreds of feet.

Brandt let himself savor the sight for one heartbeat—justice finally claiming the pompous bastard. He was getting a taste of his own medicine, as the humans put it.

Good. Let them have him. Let him taste fear for once. Let him feel what all those women he sentenced went through!

But then movement caught his eye.

Two officers shoved through the crowd, their eyes fixed on Lexi.

She froze, her breath hitching, terror flooding her face.

“Brandt…please…” she whispered.

Brandt didn’t need her words—he knew. He saw the fear in her eyes and the way her body flinched back. These were the evil bastards that had shoved the metal rod inside her and locked her in the stocks.

His voice came out as a growl from deep in his chest.

“Are these the two?”

Her lips trembled, but she nodded.

“Y-yes.”

Rage slammed into him, hot and unstoppable—the bloody curtain fell over his vision, painting everything red.

Brandt was moving before he knew it, fists swinging as he roared into battle.

One male’s nose exploded under the force of his punch, blood spraying as the man collapsed.

The other tried to raise a weapon, but Brandt’s fist smashed into his jaw with a crack like thunder.

He dropped like a stone, bleeding on the floor.

They were down. But it wasn’t enough—not for what they’d done. Brandt’s vision pulsed red, his fists tightening, aching to smash until there was nothing left but blood and bone. He raised his bloody fist again—

“Brandt!”

Her voice—Alexandra’s voice stopped him.

He turned, chest heaving, fists still curled.

She stood there, her hand reaching toward him, her eyes wet but steady.

“Enough,” she said. “I just want to get out of here. I just want to go home.”

Her words cut through the Rage like a blade. He wanted to kill—to extract bloody vengeance. But even more, he wanted her to feel safe and happy and well. Slowly, painfully, the curtain lifted and the Rage bled away.

He growled low and frustrated, but he turned his back on the broken officers.

She’s right. Not here. Not now.

Besides, it was time to get out of here—the crowd was out of control.

The chamber was chaos. The Magistrate screamed as the mob dragged him across the floor. More people surged—shoving and shouting—their fists raised high. The whole place was about to explode.

Without hesitation, Brandt scooped Lexi up and slung her over his shoulder.

She gave a startled cry, pounding her fists against his back.

“Hey! I can walk!”

“Not fast enough,” he snarled, barreling through the crowd. “Hold tight, sweetheart—it’s time to go.”

The mob parted for him—some out of fear, others out of awe—as though they could still see the fire of Rage burning in his eyes. Brandt didn’t stop until they burst out into the sunlight, the cool air hitting his chest like water.

Safe. Alexandra was safe and she had been avenged.

That was all that mattered.