Page 103 of Scarred

A lying, pathetic excuse of a man.

My legs ache from my crouched position and I shift on the balls of my feet, that ever-present ache flaring to life between my legs, only this time it doesn’t bring comfort.

I can hardly stand to look at him, but I force my eyes there anyway, maybe to prove that I can live through the worst kind of betrayal, or maybe the masochist in me wants to live in the pain as I try to come to terms with the fact that despite everything, the one person I thought I could trust, turned out to be my worst enemy.

He licked my tears, and told me I was his, right after he sent men to kill me.

My chest squeezes until the blood vessels burst, exploding in a fury until all I can taste is the sour notes of betrayal.

The rebel king.The scarred prince.

My hand flies to my mouth to stifle the scream.

I let him see the darkest parts of me. Allowed him to mark me, and hurt me, and Ibeggedfor it while I rubbed his cum into my skin and prayed to God it would brand my soul.

My teeth grit as hatred, black and true, burns through me until I shake, violence pounding in my ears.

I’ve done many things that will keep me from the gates of Heaven. I’ve come to terms with my sins, giving up my faith long ago in order to seek vengeance. But right now, I feel as though I’ve truly betrayed my father’s memory for the first time.

I slept with a Faasa. But worse than that, I fell for the man responsible for his death.

My heart trembles and cracks, the jagged edges slicing through tendons as they fall to my feet, until nothing remains but a blackened hole thatalmostknew what it felt like to fall in love.

Tristan’s head snaps to where I am, green eyes piercing as his head tilts.

Jumping to my feet, I turn and flee, adrenaline pumping like acid through my muscles as I run back the way I came, promising my father’s ghost I won’t forget why I came. Not again.

I will eradicate the Faasa family and kill the rebel king… no matter how much it may break me.

CHAPTER43

Tristan

My brother asked if I was a man of faith.

I’m a man of many things, but faith is something that is best suited when it’s placed within yourself instead of seeking for it in other people.

Other people disappoint.

I saw her. It was quick; just a flash, but I’d know those dark eyes anywhere.

Everything in me demanded to follow; to hunt her down and sneak into her room like I did the other night. But something is telling me I shouldn’t. Not yet.

So, I went to her cousin instead.

Xander has been with us since the night of the engagement ball, naturally. And in the time since, he’s been on display, beaten and abused, the open wounds growing infected and causing what I’m sure is an immeasurable amount of pain. I imagine sepsis will set in soon, eating him from the inside out.

I splash a bucket of water on his face, rousing him. He looks around, but I’ve tied him to a wooden slab in the tavern's backyard. I secured both of his legs with rope, and his good hand as well.

He jerks but realizes quickly he isn’t going anywhere. Even if he was free to move, he’s far too weak to escape.

“Good morning, Alexander.” I smile.

“I’ve told you,” he mumbles, his tongue peeking out of his dry mouth to wipe over his cracked and bleeding lips. He coughs before he continues. “Everything… I know.”

Tsking, I shake my head. “Come now, Xander. We both know that’s not true. You haven’t told me anything.”

“Just kill me,” he whispers. “Please.”