Page 771 of Coal Hearts

“Don’t.” His chest strained beneath his bandages as he struggled to sit up. “Victor...I beg you. Don’t hurt her.” The chain holding him in place jangled like a war drum signalling our battle’s end.

An awful knowing shot down my spine.

Just like I’d known it was Henri I’d been gifted to; I knew I was about to be gifted to death.

I won’t make it to Christmas...

I froze as fate allowed itself to be seen.

I saw what Victor had planned.

Saw the same diamond-handled knife that he used to transform his gems in the Temple of Facets.

No...

My mouth parted to tell Henri everything.

That I’d wait for him. That I’d see him again. That this wasn’t over.

But...Peter.

Give Henri comfort, and Peter paid the price. Keep my silence, and Henri would watch me die without a single goodbye.

Tears glossed and dripped down my cheeks.

Heartbreak wrenched open my chest.

I’m so sorry.

Victor tightened his fist in my hair, shaking me like a hyena. Yanking my head back, he pressed the knife to my throat above my heavy collar. “I hope you enjoyed having her one last time. A quick little send-off. That’s the last time you’ll ever feel a woman’s cunt again.”

“Don’t!” Henri fought so hard that the chaise squeaked and shifted over the wooden floor. “Victor, please—”

“Sir V.”

“Sir V. Let her go. You have me. Take me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, I know you will.” Victor chuckled. “And the moment this is done, you will prove to me just how obedient you are.”

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“For that lie, I will fuck you right here, right now. I was going to give you a night to grieve, my friend. I was willing to let you accept your new place, but...I think fucking you in the congealing blood of Ilyana is more apt. You can become mine all while she turns cold.”

My tears flowed faster as Victor pressed the knife deeper against my skin. “Any last words, pretty Ily?”

I met his eyes.

I saw true filth.

I saw a man who’d transformed into a complete monster.

A monster that couldn’t be defeated.

I opened my mouth to reply—to accept his gift of speech after such denial, but...the quickest flash in his navy gaze. The arrogant thrill. The sick anticipation. He looked behind me to Peter on the wall, and I knew.

One word, and it wouldn’t just be me who died tonight.

Peter would join me and...if Peter stayed alive, Henri might not break completely.