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“You have such a high opinion of yourself, boy,” his father growls. “Always believing you are better than everyone else around you. I think it’s well past time to remind you that you’re not.” His father charges, and Fort lifts his body, but his father moves faster, dodging to the side and ramming his fist into Fort’s gut.
Oliver charges for me, and I slash out with the knife, catching him on the cheek. But his hand cracks across my cheek and sends me to the ground, my vision wavering. Pain sears my head and the side of my face.
“Don’t damage her, you oaf,” Patrick snaps. “Save your anger for the rest of them.”
“With pleasure,” Oliver snarls as he bends down and lifts me by the throat. I choke, clawing at his hand as he drags me away from Fort and Bowman.
“We’re leaving a bit early, my queen,” Patrick says as Oliver tosses me at his feet, my blade discarded where I’d landed seconds ago. He leans down and lifts me by my arm. I thrash, fighting to break free, but Patrick’s strength is far greater than I gave him credit for. He holds me firmly. Even as I thrash. Kick. Squirm. “Make them suffer,” he orders.
“We plan to,” Fort’s father replies.
Patrick yanks me against his chest, binding one arm around my waist and gripping my chin with his other hand. He forces me to look at Alysia as she lies in a pool of her own blood, eyes frozen open.
A sob rips from my chest.
“You did this.” He forces my face to look at Fort, who’s bleeding from a cut in his temple, his breathing ragged. “And this will be the last time you see him. The last moments before his life and your brother’s are extinguished.” Bowman’s fury is only outmatched by his hopelessness.
My brother knows that he cannot escape his fate.
“Please,” I whisper.
“No.”
“Bowman. I love you,” I choke out.
“I love you, too, Primrose.”
My gaze lands on Fort, and I’m unable to form words. He stares at me, amber eyes blazing with bloodlust, but even he looks defeated. “I will find you,” he promises.
“Oh, empty declarations in the face of certain death. How romantic.” Patrick drags me toward the door, and I fight against his hold.
“No! Fort! Bowman! Please! Lacrae!”
But I’m already up the steps. Reaching them just as a loud roar echoes after me.
“Fort!”
Chapter 28
Fort
Every breath is agony, but the pain is still not as horrific as watching Carleah being dragged away from me.
Nor is it as haunting as Alysia’s body in the corner, Lacrae curled up behind his bars beside her, his fingers tenderly stroking her hand.
Bowman is silent beside me, his own body broken by the force of my brother’s fists.
“You call me a coward,” I wheeze. “You’re the one beating chained men. What happened to fighting with honor in the pit? To a fair fight?”
My father throws his head back and laughs. “Do I look so naïve, boy? Do you truly think so little of me?”
I narrow my gaze on him, ensuring to hold eye contact, despite the blood dripping down my face. “You don’t really want me to answer that.”
He slams his fist into my stomach, and I groan.
“Can you not taunt them?” Bowman chokes out.
“I’m not taunting,” I groan. “I’m merely pointing out that my father knows I’m stronger than he is and therefore cannot beat me unless I’m chained.”
