Page 93

Bloodbath

B lood splatters across my face, dripping into my parted mouth, and I quickly spit it onto the dying man, not wanting any part of him in me.

He groans loudly, the sword protruding from his back as his hands scramble to get a grip on the stone floor of the throne room before he attempts to crawl away.

I look over at Dray next to me with an arched eyebrow to see him grinning madly, watching the man.

“How far do you think he will get?” I ask calmly, glancing back at the man who is making painfully slow progress as he drags his limp body over the floor. I scoff when I notice he’s heading toward the door to the throne room. Really? Does he think he will get away? What a fucking idiot.

“I say a quarter of the way before you get bored and kill him,” Dray replies with a shrug, grinning at me as he strokes his blades across his chest, those ice-blue eyes heating as he watches me.

“I say halfway before you kill him so you can fuck me,” I retort, with a smile curving my lips.

“What’s the winner get, soulmate?” he purrs, his eyes heating as they flicker over my body.

“A king or a queen.” I grin and he laughs, the sound loud in the stone room.

All of the gathered Berserkers and Seekers are now leaning against the walls or filling the tables, enjoying the show. Bloodthirsty lot, they are… I guess I am too. Ivar’s body is still to the side of the throne, a reminder of what happens to those who hurt me and mine .

A slice of panic cuts through me at the thought of what The Cities are doing to my men right now, but I push it away.

I’m a queen now and I can’t afford to be weak.

Besides, they have survived there before, so they can survive there again.

I know it. At least until I get them free—and I fucking will—and kill anyone who dared hurt them.

But first, I have some cleaning up to do.

We are heading for war, I can feel it in the air.

A line has been drawn in the sand and I need to make sure I can trust the men on either side of me.

Some of these Berserkers helped and enjoyed torturing, raping, and killing people.

They will die for their past crimes, here and now.

I won’t give them a chance to betray me or stab me in the back. No fucking way.

I look back down at the man, who hasn’t made much progress towards the door, seeing the trail of blood behind him.

Sands below, he is taking a long time. Can’t he just die already?

He’s a tough fucker, I’ll give him that. He sort of looks like a tortoise… with a sword protruding from its back.

He had tried to run at me, thinking he could do what?

I don’t fucking know, but I swatted him away like a fly and then stabbed him.

The gathered warriors know who I am, know what I can do, and they don’t bother to help.

For fuck’s sake, I just killed Ivar the Destroyer while he sat with his limp dick on the throne.

This simple man thought he could take me? What an idiot.

“Fuck this,” I grumble, already bored and filled with an urgency to race to The Cities, even though I can’t.

As I cover the short distance between us, I hear him crying. With no fanfare, I place my booted foot on the sword and press down until he’s skewered to the floor. He stops moving and blood pools around him.

“Guess I get a queen, soulmate,” Dray calls, and I flip him off without looking.

“Anybody else want to challenge me?” I shout, my voice echoing around the room. I really hope someone does, I could use a way to burn some of this worry and energy off, if not in a fight then at least I can take it out on Dray. The sick bastard would love it.

“You’re no queen, ya a fuckin’ slave whore!” a rumbling voice yells, as a mountain of a man steps forward. Instantly, all the men surrounding him step away, creating an empty gap around him like they don’t want to be associated with him. Smart move.

“You’re big.” I nod, and he starts to grin, his wide, sweaty, meaty face breaking into a crooked, yellow-toothed smile until my next words stop him. “I’ve fought and fucked bigger.” I chuckle and laughter echoes from the men gathered around the room.

With a roar he charges at me, and I watch him move, analysing for weak spots.

He’s big, a fucking solid hitter. One smack from him and I’ll be out cold, but he is slow, really fucking slow, so slow I have time to reach down, pull the sword out of the dead man, and sprint forward.

He falters for a moment before heading towards me, and at the last possible second, I drop to my knees, sliding through his legs and lifting the sword at the same time, gutting him.

I roll when I’m through and flip to my feet to watch him as he stumbles, letting out a low whistle when he looks down at his guts spilling out onto the floor.

“Fucking—” He doesn’t finish his sentence as he topples over, his head landing just before my feet. Looking up at the crowd, I see some grinning, some appearing terrified, and others appearing downright angry.

“Cunt!” someone calls, and I whip around but Dray is already in motion.

He moves like silk to the wall where everyone is backing away from the man who must have shouted.

As the enraged Seeker King faces him, the man looks like he’s going to piss his pants…

oh wait, he just did. In one smooth move, Dray slides around the man and slits his throat, letting him fall to the floor as blood splatters across his chest. This man wears blood the same way others would wear jewellery. My crazy ass soulmate.

“Does anyone else want to insult my queen?” he growls menacingly, stepping out with a blade in each hand and narrowing his eyes on the gathered crowd. “If I hear one fucking whisper, I will skin you alive and make a coat for her!” he yells.

No one speaks up, in fact, I think a few people physically can’t because they’re so fucking scared. Dray does make an intimidating sight standing there covered in blood, blades in each hand, and his face carved in cold fury. Me? I’m turned the fuck on.

I never said I wasn't crazy…

Dray nods with a smirk and slides back over to me. Tilting my face up with his blade, he presses the cold, bloody tip of his sword against my chin. “I was promised a queen, unless you want me to get on my knees right here and taste you, I suggest you finish up here quickly.”

I resist for a moment, but I know he will do as he says, he doesn’t give a fuck. Crazy bastard would probably kill anyone who was unlucky enough not to escape in time and see it happen.

“Where are the slaves?” I ask, needing to free them before Dray has his wicked way with me.

A throat clears, and I look away from Dray and focus on a familiar man—it’s the rebel guard I’d met in the hallway.

He drops to his knees instantly, tilting his head down as I step closer to him.

“Don’t kneel for me. I lived my life on my knees, and I won’t let anyone else do the same,” I say softly.

I hear the men closest to us suck in a shocked breath, but the rebel at my feet simply stands with a knowing smile.

“My name is Roan, My Queen.”

“The slaves?” I repeat, growing bored.

“He killed them,” he growls.

My body turns ice-cold and I step closer, fury racing through my body. “What did you say?” I query quietly, deadly.

“Ivar had them all killed last night… He was going to take you to the room and show them all off. I’m sorry, My Queen,” he whispers, with fear in his eyes.

We are on the same side, but he stood there and did nothing as innocents were slaughtered?

Obviously reading the question in my eyes, he hurries to explain, “None of the rebels were in the castle, we were out meeting with others to figure out a way to get you free. When we got back we found out—” He stops, swallowing hard, sweat breaking out across his brow.

I step back and flicker a look over the uneasy crowd. “Who?” I call loudly, and they share looks.

“Who?” someone repeats in confusion.

“Who killed the slaves? I want them before me… now !” I scream, gripping my sword in my hand as I prowl down the lengths. “Who killed the innocents? Who ?” My fury echoes around the walls.

“We were ordered to,” someone fires back.

“So? You could have said no. You could have not done it. The guards who followed those orders made a choice to. They killed women and children on a mad man's whim just to keep themselves alive,” I growl.

“She’s right,” a big man calls. “We neva hurt tha kiddies or tha women, we didnee stop it, but we never did it by our hands, Ma Queen. I kna a few of them,” he offers hesitantly, treading forward.

“Bring them to me,” I order, before stepping back. I feel Dray behind me, his warmth centering me as guilt and hate roll through me.

I know Ivar killed the slaves to get a reaction out of me. Their blood is on my hands. Just another of Ivar’s games. Even when he’s dead, he still manages to deal a crippling blow.

“What are you going to do, soulmate?” Dray rumbles.

“Kill anyone who touched the slaves. Then, I will find that room and lay them to rest. I need to see their faces. They died because of me, because of Ivar’s game. I need to do this. I can’t change what happened, but I will not fucking let their deaths go unavenged,” I vow.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers.