Page 200 of Scourged

“Do you see them? They are gifts from my new benefactor. That is strength, to be sure, but it is not power. Not like what you have, just by being the right slut born in the right year.”

Mariah’s gaze darted helplessly between Shawth and her family. Her father’s eyes blazed with fury, but he gave her the smallest shake of his head.

He wanted Mariah to stand strong. To not give in. To not give this man what he asked.

Beside him, her mother lifted her chin. The stoic rage shining in her eyes was enough to wrench a small, choking sob from Mariah’s lips.

Wex and Lisabel Salis were strong. The strongest people Mariah knew.

But Mariah … was not. Not like them. The demons tightened their grips, pressing claws closer to her family’s throats. Her Armature was chained and bound before her, raging and helpless.

Her guilt, her shame, her empty rage pounded through her until everything around her drowned.

Selfish.

Pathetic.

A shameful daughter.

An unworthy queen.

Something cracked deep in the darkest crevices of Mariah’s soul. Something that had remained strong, even when she was held captive. Something even the strike of a metal-tipped whip couldn’t break.

Shawth saw her fracture. He leaned forward, still grinning, foul breath brushing her cheeks.

“Do you know why we let you go?” He chuckled. “I’ll admit, we had fun sending our friends from the Kizar Islands to torment your Armature during your stay with us. But we soon realized that we could never break you here. As much as we did not wish to admit it, you were too strong. You care very little for your well-being and your body. Which I suppose we should have known, given your reputation.”

Mariah was numb to the laughter that rose around the gardens.

The whore queen.

“I will admit, we were stumped for a time. Until Lord Laurent helped us make an invaluable realization.”

Andrian’s father sat in his chair upon the dais, expression a careful, solid mask. But despite his efforts, the wicked delight that glimmered in his eyes was impossible to ignore.

“You have a weakness, Mariah: your ability to love. You don’t love many, but once you do …” Shawth glanced once at Andrian, then to her Armature, then finally to her family. “Once you do, you would tear the world down and spit upon its ashes to keep that love safe.”

Mariah’s heart thumped against her chest. Had she really been so easy to read? She’d said almost those same words to Andrian before they’d left.

She’d tried to make love her retribution, but it all turned out to be her weakness.

“We knew about your Armature and the Laurent heir; your ties to them were obvious. But it was our esteemed Lord Donnet, who reminded us of all you’d left behind in Andburgh. With a little help from thetruegod of Onita, we had them brought here. For safekeeping, of course.”

“What do you mean by true god of Onita?” A force beyond her control yanked the question from Mariah’s mouth. Likely that beast still crawling beneath her skin, growing more agitated as the seconds ticked past.

She contemplated giving over control to the beast of her rage. But she clung to the last broken pieces of herself, if only for the hope that she might, somehow, be able to bargain her way out of this.

She’d gladly toss herself, her magic, and her crown at Shawth’s feet if it meant her family—both those of blood and those she’d selected for herself—could leave this place free.

Shawth blinked down at her, brow twisting with curiosity. His empty eyes flashed, and something dark and sinister slid across his features.

“Patience, little queen.” He tsked. “You will meet him before the day is done.”

The beast in Mariah’s skin stilled.

Something was very, very wrong. Mariah wrapped herself around the beast, begging for just a few more moments.

Please. Please, I have to try to get them out. Please.