Page 62 of Maneater

My eyes widened. I tried to fight against the restraints biting into my chest, against the crushing weight around my waist, but all I managed was a twitch. My body refused me.

The movement caught Hadeon’s eye. He looked down at me, and when he saw the panic in my struggle, a smile curved his lips.

“Curious,” he muttered to himself. “Perhaps this one will be the one to usher in the tide I’ve been waiting for.”

But I felt nothing, no breath, no voice, as I watched the woman who had shaped my life being dragged forward, forced to stand beside the other accused.

The knights positioned both my mother and Mag carefully, evenly spaced beside the first man.

Then, without hesitation, they forced them both down onto their knees, displayed before the crowd.

I heard the unmistakable hiss of a blade being drawn, and my fear collapsed into full-blown hysteria. My mind screamed, a sound louder than anything I’d ever known, but it stayed locked inside me. Silent, hidden, suffocating.

How could this be happening?

Gadriel stood tall before the crowd, the sword now unsheathed from the scabbard at his side. The sunlight caught its edge, throwing flashes of silver as he raised it high above his head .

“Today,” Gadriel exclaimed, “I have come prepared to deliver justice upon the three accused!”

He turned without pause, stepping toward the first kneeling figure, the one closest to him. With one hand, he grabbed the burlap sack covering the man’s head and tore it away. As he did, the crowd erupted in a shockwave of cries.

There, on his knees before them all, was the king of Hyrall. Gadriel’s father.

Gadriel’s expression remained impassive. No flicker of emotion crossed his face as he stared down at the man who had once ruled the realm.

A herald suddenly stepped forward, voice clear and solemn as he read:

“By the decree of His Highness, Prince Gadriel Ilarion, heir to the throne, let judgment fall upon this day. Let all who stand upon this stone bear witness, King Ithaniel Ilarion, ruler of the kingdom of Hyrall, is found guilty of high treason. For consorting with the devil realm of Torhiel. For allowing devils to walk among his folk. And for abandoning his duty to protect the realm.”

The herald’s voice held firm, rising above the stunned murmurs.

“From this day forward, he is stripped of all title, all land, and all claim to the crown. His crimes are met with death, swift and final, beneath the blade. Let his fall be remembered, not as a sorrow, but as a vow. This realm shall remain whole, faithful, and unbroken. May the gods render their judgment upon him.”

Gadriel didn’t hesitate. He stepped beside his father and raised the blade high over the king’s neck.

The king didn’t resist. He didn’t plead.

He said nothing to challenge the lies his son had told.

He only knelt, motionless. And in that moment, I knew something had been done to him.

Whether Gadriel had drugged him, or whether he was bound by Hadeon’s dark bargain, I didn’t know, but this wasn’t surrender. This had to be control .

“Speak now,” Gadriel commanded, “or meet the blade in silence.”

The king did not move. He didn’t even lift his head.

Without pause, Gadriel brought the sword down in a clean, brutal stroke.

The crowd erupted, gasps and cries splitting the air, as the former king’s head dropped from his shoulders, his body collapsing lifelessly to the platform. Blood poured down the stone steps starkly against the pale limestone.

Gadriel stepped past his father’s fallen body and approached Mag.

I knew I was supposed to endure whatever pain Gadriel meant to inflict by forcing me to watch. There was no escape, no shield. There was nothing I could do but feel it every ounce of it.

The herald began to speak again, another proclamation echoing across the courtyard.

I couldn’t take it in. The words blurred as they reached my ears, like distant echoes underwater.

A high-pitched ringing filled my head, drowning everything else.

I could barely think, barely breathe. Still, I caught pieces.

He was accusing Mag of being a devil. Of performing devilry in Brier Len.

Of crimes buried in years of silence, crimes the king had supposedly known and ignored.

They were lies, carefully crafted and cruel.

I turned my face away just as Gadriel raised the blade. I couldn’t watch.

I heard the song of the blade, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting stone, and something inside me tore open as he moved onto the next.

No, not her. Not my mother.

I wanted to scream. To beg. To throw myself between her and the blade, but my body wouldn’t move. I was trapped, held down by bindings, by fear, by the sheer weight of the chain. And in that moment, I felt myself unravel. Everything was slipping.

This wasn’t how it was meant to be. How had it come to this?

Me, watching it all unfold, powerless to stop any of it?

Why had Gadriel come for me? Why rip me from everything I knew, only to destroy what little I had left?

If I had just stayed, if I hadn’t left Brier Len, hadn’t followed the path that led me here, maybe none of this would be happening.

Maybe she’d still be safe. But it was too late.

All I could do was sit there, paralyzed, pleading in silence.

Please. Please don’t take her away from me.

But no amount of pleading would change anything.

Gadriel’s sword had already swung.

No realm echoed back my cries. No god stirred at the sound of my voice. I was a god among them, and still, I stood alone.

This world was cruel. It took and took, until there was nothing left but the hollow it carved out of me.

It hadn’t cared how much I’d already lost, only that there was still more to strip away.

And after everything I’d endured, every trial, every pain, why had this been the thing that finally broke me?

Gadriel’s voice bled into the emptiness of me, like venom drawn through a wound.

“I, Gadriel Ilarion, am now the rightful king of Hyrall, and I will rule this realm with unwavering justice. Today, we have cast down a false king. We have purged a devil from within our walls. And we have silenced the woman who dared consort with one.

“One by one, we will cleanse this kingdom. We will tear out every hidden threat and build a world founded on truth, on strength, on moral clarity. I will not rest. I will not hesitate. I will not allow this kingdom to rot from the inside ever again.

“The blood spilled in Falhurst will not be forgotten. And I will find the creature responsible. I will lead you into an era free of lies, free of filth. I will deliver you into a future worthy of my name.

“This will not end until I have the one who calls herself Odessa. She walks this world with a stolen name, a stolen face, and I swear to you all, there will be no peace until the she-devil is struck down.”