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“Quiet now, Gray.” Vera growled. If the insult was meant to hurt Violet’s pride, it failed. She was proud to be a gray sorceress. Her power was not as strong as Vera’s, but she knew how to wield a weapon better than most. And this would be the last time this bitch pressed a blade to her neck.
“Stop,” Gavin commanded, squaring his shoulders. The spice of his magic billowed around him. He was readying himself—but for what?
Was he talking to her or to Vera?
There was no way he could engage two Crows and his bastard commander at once. “Let her go. We’ve done what you asked of us. We are married. Isn’t that enough?”
Vera’s shrill voice burned in Violet’s ears. “Oh! This is endearing. He thinks he can fight me.”
“Vera, Vera,” Julius interjected. “Let’s not make a tremendous fuss about this. The child has a big mouth, and she’s my man’s wife now. Remember, Gavin’s parents are benefactors of Plume City, and he is in excellent standing with the King.”
Vera withdrew the blade from Violet’s neck and slid it back into the sheath on her belt. Her crazed tone eased. “Of course. If the royals like him, then I guess I can’t have any fun.”
Violet’s hand twitched with the need to grab her own blade and use it to carve Vera a new face.
“Speaking of what we demand of you.” Morgan spoke from the back, stepping toward Gavin and Violet. “We should head to the chambers for the union. Who would you prefer to be present during the act? Vera, myself, or the commander?”
The room spun around Violet. Or maybe her legs were growing weak. Gavin’s surprise was just as audible, a choked gasp that turned into a coughing fit. His cheeks bloomed bright red, and his wide brown eyes darted from face to face. “W-what?”
Had this not been about her wedding night—or a scenario that was becoming more real by the minute—she would have responded to his embarrassment in a provocative manner. Even under the unusual circumstances, heat rushed through her, knocking her off kilter. She pressed her legs together, trying to suffocate the tingling sensation that awoke in her core at the thought of sharing a bed with him. What was wrong with her? How could her own body betray her in a situation like this?
She fought the urge not to fidget under the room’s watchful eyes. Could they see how her breathing became ragged? Could he?
Violet was supposed to hate all of this. But it was hard to lie to herself. To acknowledge that even though she’d intended to escape tonight, her attraction to him had been very real from the very first time she saw him a couple of years ago. Now, he was her husband.
“You both heard me. One of us has to witness the act to ensure the marriage is in fact consummated and the bond is strong and in place. It’s the law, and it’s necessary to prevent falsehoods in the unions.” Morgan’s red lips tilted into a coy smile that made Violet feel sick.
The words were a dose of icy water to Violet’s heated thoughts. Morgan’s blue eyes trailed down Gavin’s chest, pausing at the edge of his pants as she drank him in like he was nothing more than an object for her entertainment. Violet tightened her fist around the pommel of her hidden blade and chewed on her cheeks, hard enough that she tasted copper.
“Neither of you are coming to our chambers,” she said. “I have studied the laws extensively, and while they demand a Society member witnesses the ceremony, they don’t require one for the wedding night.” As Violet spoke, Gavin reached out a hand to hers, grounding her amidst her rising anger.
“Well, well. It seems we were wrong.” Morgan walked around them in a slow circle. Her smile revealed yellowing teeth against red lips. “The peasant can read.”
She stopped next to Violet, meeting her eyes, unblinking. Her smile transformed into a snarl, and in the next instant, her small hand grasped Violet’s hair, pulling her back until their cheeks were pressed tightly together.
Morgan’s breath reeked of tobacco with a hint of mint, as if she was trying to hide something putrid lingering in her throat. Violet winced, struggling as the Crow dragged her across the floor and away from her groom.
Dimly, she registered Gavin’s panicked voice in the background, and through a veil of tears, she could see Julius holding him by the podium. He tried to wrestle out of his commander’s grip but wasn’t able to break free. Meanwhile, Morgan had already dragged her back toward the exit.
She lifted Violet by the hair and neck and brought her lips against the shell of Violet’s ear. “I will watch him fuck you tonight and have you recite all the laws you think you know.” Her voice was so low that only Violet could hear her. “And if you don’t entertain me enough, I’ll let my cousin have a go as well. I know he wants to, especially after you ran your mouth earlier.”
This woman—this monster—was a sociopath hiding behind the veil of the Society of Crows. She abused her stronger magical skills to torment those she considered beneath her. But her confidence in Violet’s weakness would be her undoing. She never saw the knife coming.
Violet tilted the blade, slashing through the fabric of her dress and pulling it out in a flash. She plunged it deep into Morgan’s rib cage once, twice, meeting resistance between the bones. The squelching noise of blood and muscle tearing was all she could hear beneath her captor’s screams.
Morgan clawed at Violet’s shoulders, fists trembling, and dropped to the ground. Violet’s hands were drenched in sticky red. She had just enough time to slice open the bindings around her wrists. The magic-canceling ropes she’d been wearing since Vera captured her fell on top of the Crow’s lifeless form.
Chaos erupted. Screams pierced the air. But Violet didn’t hover over the fallen Crow. Adrenaline flooded her as she fixed her gaze on Julius. Another monster that needed to be gone from this world. She hurled her knife by its very tip with all her strength, sending it flying across the room, just the way she’d been practicing since she was thirteen.
The blade whistled through the air, cutting through floating flower petals. Julius’ eyes widened, but Gavin pushed his commander to the side, putting himself in the knife’s path. The sharp edge nicked his jaw before it continued its journey and hit the podium, where the magistrate was hiding.
Nausea raced through Violet, and she emptied the contents of her stomach over the polished floor. But she couldn’t stay a moment longer to see if he was all right. Vera was snarling loudly, and her magic, a much darker shade than Morgan’s, bloomed over the room, drowning out Gavin’s cries of pain and the magistrate’s screams for punishment.
There would be no retribution—not today. Not for Violet. She ran toward the pillar which held boiling oil and a flame that illuminated the hall. She raised her palm and her magic burst forth, toppling the stone column so it fell against the drapes by the windows. They caught fire like dry kindling, and before Vera could even get close to her, the entire place went up in flames.
11
VIOLET
