Page 158 of The Chains You Defy

He suspected something.

No. Galrach fuckingknew.

Fuck.

The dress he’d sent to Naya for the tea invitation. The low neckline—

Oh. Fuck.

Of course. He could see through Glamour. How could I have forgotten?

I was fucked. Now, everything was about damage control.

“For the last time, bare your chest, Scriosta, before I forget myself.”

On the outside, I was still the perfect picture of boredom as I made a spectacle of slowly unbuttoning the top button of my tunic while holding eye contact with the High King, but on the inside, my mind was reeling.

Naturally, Galrach lost his composure upon my newest provocation—after all, temper ran through our family like a red thread. One second, he glared at me; the next, he pounced. Like a rag doll, I flew through the Sun Room, impacted on the wall, and fought against retching as Galrach’s smelly exhale insulted my nostrils. He was too near, pinning me against the hard surface,and my breath was shaky. The impact had rattled me, even though I’d expected an attack and had allowed the assault to happen.

Galrach snarled at me, and his spittle soiled my cheek, burning like acid rain, but I showed him my teeth in return as a growl rumbled in my chest. A hot flash of pain speared into my brain at the hostile act. Fuck.

The High King appeared savage as he growled right back, keeping me trapped against a glass panel with one hand, ripping my tunic wide open with the other without further hesitation. Buttons flew everywhere and landed on the ground.

Fuck again—his eyes, which were glued to my skin, confirmed that he’d pierced my Glamour.

Gods, I was in so much deep shit.

Exposed and pinned to the wall by my grandfather like a useless sack of bones, chest bared—my facade had completely crumbled.

Even when I’d held my speech during the ball, Galrach hadn’t glared at me like he did now, nor had he been so openly furious. Of all my recent sins, the one painted on my skin weighed heaviest for him—a transgression I hadn’t even chosen myself.

Since I couldn’t afford to lose consciousness, I did fuck all to defend myself, not even when my grandfather used his strength to hurl me through the air another time. The impact on the marble was sohard that if I hadn’t been able to protect my head, I would surely have cracked my skull.

No.

Pain spread through me, centering on my hip and shoulder, which had taken the brunt of my fall. Darkness stirred in my veins, clouding my senses as I stared at Galrach with more hate than ever before, more intense than I’d thought possible.

The monster had to die.

Shaking the brain fog away, I picked myself up. Keeping my face as neutral as attainable, I closed the few surviving buttons before raising one corner of my mouth.

No backing down.

“I liked that tunic. A refreshing lack of silver.”

“Scriosta, stop provoking me, for your own sake.”

Enough.

This godscursed annoying voice in my head. Why the thing riled me up all the time, urging me to more defiance than was healthy, was a mystery to me, and only as I surrendered to my temper, dropped my mask, and stared daggers at the king did some of the pressure in my chest ease.

The damage was done. Gone was my bored behavior, and the chance to fool Galrach into believing me to be unaffected was zero.

“Not my fucking fault. What else do you want me to say?”

“Who knows?”

“Me. And now you.” And Antas, but I wouldn’t mention him to his brother. He was caught in the crossfire enough already.