Page 43 of The Princesses of Ruin (The Princesses of Ruin #5)

Chapter thirty-nine

Lily

“ M ove him. Carefully!” I cradle Alastair’s head as the Spiders lift his massive body off the sled and onto the stretcher.

Duskaryn watches with gold-glowing eyes, and the promise that rings my wrist burns. The high-magus pact I made in my desperation and death. To save my love.

To save our child.

I had suspected. The sickness in the morning, my missing courses…but I had thought perhaps it was nerves. Or the sobriety.

I had hoped it wasn’t a baby.

Duskaryn had felt her heartbeat fluttering and seized the opportunity to burn a hole through my resolve to die with Alastair. He presented me with another piece to trade. Another way for us to all be together.

Only if Alastair survives.

I glare at Duskaryn.

That was part of the deal. Alastair lives.

“I’m aware.”

He murmurs in my mind just like Alyse can, but only when I allow him in.

Invite him. This creature of ancient shadow and flame is far more powerful than we could’ve imagined.

Fighting was never going to be a winning option.

Zephrom sent us because she knew I would make a deal with the beast. She knew everything, all along.

The fucking cunt.

When Alastair is strapped securely, we bring him inside. There’s a craft room off the main foyer with a table large enough, so I direct the soldiers there. Duskaryn follows into the room, looming in the corner.

“Everyone out,” I snap at the Spiders.

Emillia lingers in the corner with her puppies on each hip. It pains me, but I nod for her to leave, too. She dips her head and closes the door behind her.

I glare at Duskaryn. “Fix him.”

He prowls around Alastair, knocking spools of thread off tables and tipping chairs as he goes. “He will survive as he is.”

“No! He needs to live. We can’t do that if he doesn’t have an arm. If he doesn’t ever wake up.” My throat tightens. “You did this, now fix it! ”

The duskwalker crowds me against the wall in a flash. His bony maw presses against my cheek and a shiver of revulsion moves through me. I suppress a whimper as I cradle my stomach.

“You do not command me,” he says in a deep, sinister growl.

“I can still end my life,” I say, my voice quiet.

Duskaryn’s claws dig into my hips as he covers my hands with his. “You. Wouldn’t. Dare .”

A wave of sickness spikes through me at the thought of betraying our deal. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I would have to ask someone else…

“Fix him,” I snarl. “And you won’t have to find out what I’m capable of. ”

Duskaryn’s glowing eyes burn into me as he slides his maw along my cheek. The sharp drag of his fang across my flesh reminds me that he is a demon of greater strength, magic, and years than I could ever hope to fight against. My single saving grace is right here, under his hand and mine.

But I need Alastair if she’s going to have a fighting chance against Duskaryn. I need my husband to train her in all the ways I can’t. I need him to teach her the strength I don’t have, so when it comes time for her to fight the duskwalker, she can win.

He knows it, too. But he also promised Alastair would live.

The green, gold, and red brand of thorns flares to life on his massive black wrist as if to remind him.

Duskaryn growls in submission and pulls away. He turns to Alastair and roughly begins undressing him. I look at my husband for the first time with eyes that aren’t actively roaming away from his damaged form.

Tears gather on my bottom lids and I hold back a sob as the duskwalker reveals more and more of him, all battered, all damaged. My gaze finally settles on his right shoulder, which ends in a shattered bone and a bloody nub.

“Fix him,” tumbles from my lips as the tears escape my grasp. They roll down my face and patter against my cradling hand.

Duskaryn digs his claws into the table. He draws runes I’ve never seen before that come alive with his golden magic. Strings of power zip from the table and wrap Alastair like a harness, then burrow into his skin. The scars his mother carved in him activate, shimmering pearly purple.

His mother’s magic. It’s been alive in him for so long.

It drifts off his body like an ephemeral vision of him, creating a shadow Alastair that hovers in the air over his real body .

Duskaryn slashes the first rune with his claws, cutting Alastair’s skin with a wicked swipe. I cry out, reaching for him, but I know the duskwalker is doing what he promised.

The rune explodes on the shadowed version, and it transforms his arm into that of the scaled demon.

Alastair’s right arm stub pulses with red light.

Bones jut forth with violent snaps. Muscles wrap them tightly.

Purpled blood flows over the sinew and solidifies into midnight skin.

Scales as hard as iron ripple to the surface.

Duskaryn slashes another one of the runes. Alastair jolts on the table, spitting blood. I suck down a deep gasp as another sob wracks me. The skin on his leg morphs until it’s encased in scales. Another patch grows over the gaping hole in his stomach.

Finally, the magic restraining Alastair fades, receding into the duskwalker. He turns to me, his gold eyes dimmer than they were before. Perhaps he’s weak…

Weak enough for me to kill—

Nausea punches me in the gut, and I spill forward, vomiting.

“You cannot even think it without consequence.” He taps the glowing brand on my wrist. “You’re bound in this agreement same as I am. Same as he is.”

He palms my stomach and pushes me against the wall. “ The same as she is. ”

I grunt through gritted teeth as I pant. “She can beat you.”

His dark tongue snakes out and licks his exposed teeth. “We shall see.”

He pushes off me but keeps his hand firmly on my belly. I want to vomit again.

“You will not harm her. You will not hide her. You will not trick me. ” The air in the room thins and my head grows light.

“As agreed, I will return in twenty cycles of the seasons. She will be ready to engage me in combat, or she will surrender to me willingly. Either way, I am leaving with my mate.”

My body burns with shame. I bare my teeth to hide it.

“You won’t be leaving at all. She’ll take your head and mount it on the tallest spire of her kingdom.”

Duskaryn makes a rasping chuckle as he steps back. “I can only hope she’ll be strong enough to make the attempt, else she won’t survive my affections.”

I slap his maw hard.

My chest aches like my hand.

I slap him again, harder. Something in my wrist pops. I hit him again. He watches me with passive malevolence, allowing me to rain down on him with my agony. Making a mockery of my strength. Knowing not one of these blows has the intent to kill. Knowing none of them are for him, but for me.

I want to die for what I’ve done.

Sobs overtake me and Duskaryn draws back into the shadows.

“Twenty cycles, princess.”

His body dissolves into black mist and seeps through the cracks of the window.

My knees hit the floor and pain erupts from my mouth in a gurgling scream. My broken heart pours onto the rug next to my vomit. Tears blind me. Hate fills me.

I’ve done this…

I’ve done this to her.

The monster isn’t the creature I sold her to for her father’s life. It’s me, and I deserve whatever fate gives me for this betrayal.