Chapter Thirty-Four

***Remi***
Thrown over the shoulder of a fuming Kieran, his scent is the only calming thing about him.

Even in a forest surrounded by flowers, he is the best thing. Like vanilla and moonflower. Adventure and the sea.
If only his body wasn’t shaking in rage.

We barely even make it back to his castle before he sets me down and turns on me. He goes on and on about my magic and my hidden powers, but I have nothing to say on the matter and dissociate when men yell at me.

So instead I look at his castle.

I think it’s the first time I’ve really looked at it. The rain storm has thinned to wispy night clouds, revealing black onyx spires and twisting towers. It’s massive, hugged on two sides by mountains. Vivid green trees and white night-blooming flowers dot the property. Nearly all of the windows are aglow, sending a golden glow into the descending night.

When we were little, my dad used to tell us stories of the Midnight King’s castle. Of Twilight House. He always said there was magic in his lands, and after tonight, seeing the forests, and the glowing flowers, I knew what he was talking about. The tribes, the city, the rivers, and the ocean.

It is magic.

As dark and twisted as the mountains themselves.

I love it here, I realize. I love the gray, and the black, and how half of Twilight House is carved into the stone. There’s something so familiar about it, like my mother’s castle was all bright and white and fake and golden, but this place, this wickedly cruel and wild place, is my home.

A place to be yourself. To have self-reliance, thick cut armor on the outside, but a warm, glowing home hidden within.

Strength on the outside. Vulnerability within. The true beauty is protected from people like the Midnight King.

I never had that growing up. Not after my dad died, at least. And I’m not talking about the cozy home within.

I never had the armor.

And my time here has helped me build it up.

As much as an innocent I can.

I follow the King up the steps to the front of the castle and into a grand hosting room. It’s the size of a small field, and three tall willow trees occupy the space with room to spare. There are so many people around, lingering with glasses of champagne. Some women giggle at me and I cower behind Kieran.

The King, even with his new, detached mask, takes notice.

“I’m their entertainment for the night,” I say to him, not quite as a complaint, nor a plea. “I-I don’t want people to watch me d-die.”

The Shadows gather around Kieran, and I swear, Something like empathy glimmers behind his ice-blue eyes. “I–”

“Ah, our King,” Kallias says, emerging from behind a tree with his arms half outstretched. “Where have you been?”

I guess I’ve never seen Kieran angry, because he pulls the sword strapped to his spine in a heartbeat and stabs it through Kallias’s stomach.

“How dare you not report what happened at the River,” he seethes. Such careful, hidden words, cautious of the people of the Court.

Every inch of the King is alive, terrifying.

Because of his royalty, there’s always been a certain distance between me and Kieran that I don’t have with the others. The weight of a crown and a line of two hundred and fifty thousand he considers more innocent than I am.

I will never be enough for him.

Because I am just the blood of what was stolen.

Rhodes stalks out of the corner, his steps sharp and sure. For a second I think he’s going to attack Kieran, and his violet eyes suggest he might, but to my surprise, Rhodes growls, then kneels beside his bleeding-out brother.

Trapped. We’re all trapped in this castle.

Slaves in one way or another to the cruel King’s reign.

Fuck what I said earlier about armor protecting a good person. This place, Keiran, is nothing but cold, gray stone. My dad was right all along.

The Midnight King snaps his fingers at Xaden. “Get the court out of my throne room–”

“Don’t they usually watch–?” Xaden interrupts.

Kieran shoots him a look that’s perhaps even more terrifying than the Demon Slayer himself. “No one but we and the Priestesses watch–”

Xaden makes the mistake of opening his mouth. “But the Witches--”

Kieran’s voice rises, and I swear, the shadows in the room do, too. “Then tell the Witches that's their King’s order. You two,” he barks at the twins. Four purple eyes jerk from the gray stone floor to Kieran.
“Do I have to remind you morons what will happen if you fuck the Offering before our ceremony?”

The women staring at us earlier suddenly either choke on their wine or have other places to be.

Kallias and Rhodes both shake their heads, but with the eyes of hundreds watching, Xaden decides it’s not cruel enough.

The Demon Slayer, no doubt on Kieran’s sick orders, steps forward and twists the knife in Kallias’s chest.

I'm sobbing now, and I think I scream Kallias's name. I move to run to him, the only male here who showed me true kindness, to beg Xaden not to hurt him any further, but from the corner of my eye, I see Vienna shake her head at me.

Not now. She seems to be saying. Let it be.

I doubt Xaden’s sadism is anything but a show. “You speak when your King addresses you,” he seethes at the twins, then uses his foot to push Rhodes’s head down. Far too many of the Courtiers laugh at the twin’s humiliation and sobs well up in my throat. “Do it now.”

“Apologies, your Highness,” Kallias spits out, blood pooling from his mouth. “We won’t-” he gasps for air, “we won’t fuck the Offering.”

Kieran is all villain. All darkness.

A King is as many times more powerful than he is older than all of us.

Xaden puts a similar-sized dagger to Rhodes’ back, breaking his fighting leathers and drawing just a hint of blood.

Ah, there are the monsters who run the Midnight Court that my father warned me about. The Vampire King and his Demon Second in Command.

Kieran's smirk could end wars. Start them, too. “Say you want to,” he commands Rhodes. I swear, I’ve never seen a male look more hateful. “Say you want to fuck her and beg me to do it, now.”

Everyone’s eyes are on me, the unfuckable Offering. The virgin.

Gods I miss my sister's so much right now.

Rhodes's violet eyes hold the most violence I’ve ever known. “No,” he says, and hundreds of vampires gasp. "I won't say such words."

The shadows in the room intensified, surrounding Kieran's shoulders like a set of tall, black wings. Some of his own court members flee from him.

So much for my free strip show.

"Say it to her now," Kieran's voice is calm, calmer than I've ever heard him speak before., "or I will remove you from my court by slitting your throat."

"Keiran, please-" I choke out, attempting to grab his arm, to reason with him, "p-please don't hurt him, he's done nothing wrong-"

"Silence," The King commands, and my breath catches in my throat. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

My heart settles like a rock in my stomach. Keiran is using the same magic Xaden used on me, fear, cold-hearted, pure fear.

How dare he.

And of course, of all times, of all places in the world, three red-hooded witches, equally wicked, walk into the House of Twilight and smile at me.