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I lift my dagger and slowly, deeply, drag it up his thigh. He screams. The sound passes over me without drawing a reaction. Blood pools on the stone beneath him.

“I would have taken the deal, love. Now I have to put in much more work than I was hoping.” I roll my eyes, finding that sadistic part of myself that’s able to treat this like a game instead of what it really is.

“I can’t—”

“Can’t say anything?” I cut in. I lift the blade, studying it, watching as blood drips from the silver. Ah—one of my favorite sights.

“Yeah, I got that. But that doesn’t really work for me. I need information.” My gaze flicks back to him. “So, tell me, what do you know about the king’s little experiments? What does he do to them?”

I move the blade again, continuing the line of crimson. He tries to reach for it, but he can’t; every part of his body is broken. “Tell me,” I murmur, “and this will all end. I promise.”

“He—” Elias chokes, tears streaming down his face. “He tortures them. In the deepest part of the castle.” He falls silent for a moment. I watch him gather what little strength he has left. The pain he’s in is astronomical. I know that pain. It’s been inflicted upon me before in a room just like this.

“I was the guard at the door for a couple of years,” he rasps, trying again to reach his leg. “I heard the screams, and saw the bodies dragged out. He never told any of us why he does what he does, only that no one was allowed to walk by. Especially not any of his children.”

Interesting. So he cares what they think… or he doesn’t want them to know for other reasons. I wonder if Roman knows and if keeping my secret of being a shifter hidden is his way of protecting me.

“He always left that place with the same notebook. That’s really all I know.” The notebook I found in his study detailing all the unspeakable things he’s done to innocent creatures, all because they were more powerful than he’ll ever be. Elias is gasping, on the edge of succumbing now. He wouldn’t be able to tell me any more even if he did know.

“That’s all I needed to know,” I say calmly, playing it off as if I’m ending things on my terms. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I straighten and turn away from him. He smells horrid, and a part of me aches to set him free. But I know I have to end this now, put his soul out of its misery. After my next and final question.

“However,” I add, “let’s talk about the main reason you’re here.” I turn back to face him. He doesn’t look up, only stares blankly at his leg.

“You attacked one of my own. The one person on this entire island you should have never touched.” I tilt my head, gritting my teeth at the thought of Zorren in danger. “Why did you do it? For fun? For coin?”

He shifts weakly. “It was by order of the king, to hurt the best fighter. To see if he could take down all four of us. A test.” He chokes, his breath rattling, death already tightening its grip.

Anger coils hot in my chest. I knew the royals wanted to recruit Zorren, but I had no idea the order had come directly from the king himself.

“Can I ask one question?” he croaks

My eyes snap to his, a hint of bewilderment rippling across them. No one has ever dared to turn the tables and ask me a question before, when they’re under my blade.

Out of plain curiosity, I allow it. “What?”

“Did you love him?”

A knot cinches tight in my stomach. “Who are you speaking of?” I ask carefully, already knowing the answer.

“Maddoc Brine.”

My heart drops so violently at his name I swear it might tear free from my chest. How the hell does he know about Maddoc and I?

“You must have been some woman,” he rasps, coughing up blood. “For him to die for you. To risk his rank.”

“How do you know—”

“I shared quarters with him,” he interrupts weakly. “Since we were boys. We grew up together.” His breaths grow slower now, shallow and labored. Each inhale scrapes in, each exhale threatening to be the last.

Tears sting my eyes before I can stop them. I just let them burn there, not blinking. I take a moment to steady myself. I refuse to fall apart in front of him.

“Yes,” I say at last.

Quiet.

“I loved him.” The words come out raw and unwilling. “So much that it still hurts.” I stop there. Because if I say more, I will fracture even more than I have.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice barely clinging to breath now. “If I’m to die, I’m glad it’s by your blade.” His lips twitch faintly, and his eyes gaze up at the flame in the lantern. “I’m looking forward to seeing my friend again.” The words slice deep, hurting me far more than I could have ever hurt him.