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Even before he says her name, I know who he’s talking to, but those two syllables still cut through me like a knife.
Kelley did this.
Kelleyis at least partially responsible for torturing a man in ways no being should ever be tortured, especially not a man who, for all his faults, is doing his best to serve his people and keep them safe.
I have no idea why she’s done this, but…
My thoughts veer off course as I realize I actually might have an idea…
I’m struggling to remember everything Maggie said about the ancient queen who ruled for two hundred years, the one who had her mate locked up somewhere being tortured, when the man in the black coat says, “Excellent. I’ll leave the door open and make sure Bane’s otherwise engaged. You’ll have until noon to get it done. The rings and the fertility charm are in the cabinet here.” He makes an irritated sound low in his throat. “No, of course I didn’t move the sword. It’s still in the armory, where it will stay until the last possible moment. I know the plan and I intend to keep to it. Make sure you do the same.”
He ends the call with a sharp tap of his thumb and without another glance back at the human being he just tortured into a blackout, he leaves the room.
I force myself to wait a good ten minutes, hopefully ensuring the man is truly gone and not simply popping out for a snack before he continues his bloody work, and then slowly shift the grate to one side.
Elbows braced on the edge of the opening, I slowly lower my legs down into the room, abs trembling as more of my weight dangles free. Grunting softly, I manage to shift from my elbows to my hands without tumbling into the room, but it’s a close call. As I release the metal and drop softly to land with bent knees, I vow to get serious about fitness at my earliest opportunity.
If I’m not going to have a sword to help me toughen up, I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.
And I won’t have that sword.
Even if I could steal it from Bane, I’m not about to mess with that thing, not if there’s even a chance that Maxim locked away and suffering in the dark is part of what it will require to bring me to power. Even if he turns out to be the worst version of himself and keeps me in his shadow for the entire length of our relationship—however long that might be—I will never regret making this choice.
There are lines I refuse to cross, and torture is absolutely one of them.
Even before I tiptoe across the room to Maxim’s side—the smell of terrified, brutalized wolf pricking at my nose and bringing tears to my eyes—there’s no doubt in my mind or heart about that.
I rest a soft hand on his forehead as I whisper, “It’s all right now. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”
I don’t expect an answer—I don’t expect him to be awake for hours, in fact, and am busy brainstorming ways to carry him out of here—but a beat later his lashes flutter open. “Willow, you’re here,” he rasps in a voice so filled with joy that it breaks my heart all over again.
Before I can stop them, tears stream down my cheeks, coming so fast they drip off my chin to land on Maxim’s bruised chest.
