A Soul of Ash and Blood (Blood And Ash Series Book 5)
A Soul of Ash and Blood: Chapter 44

The day of the Rite, I sat in Duke Teerman’s study, at his desk, in his chair, and waited impatiently.

Patience wasn’t typically a skill of mine, nor did I see it as a virtue in general.

However, for this, I’d deal with it.

I looked down at the back of the Royal Guard my boots rested upon. With compulsion, I’d gotten what I needed to know from the fair-haired man before I snapped his neck. Killing him wasn’t necessary. I didn’t plan to be here when the compulsion wore off, but the thing was, he’d known what was going on in here during the Duke’s lessons. I was sure the other Royal Guard who often watched the door also knew, but this one had gotten hard as he recounted how the Duke made her undress from the waist up and then bent her over the very desk I sat at. Then he took a cane to her skin. Sometimes, Lord Mazeen watched. More than once, she’d left this room barely conscious. There was no telling what they’d done to her.

“Fucking bastard.” I kicked the dead guard in the side, sending him skidding across the floor.

My stare fixed on the long, slender cane propped against the corner of the mahogany desk. Was it this one he’d used to punish Poppy? Or one of the others by the credenza? Anger simmered in my gut, hard to keep in check.

I’d done a lot of terrible things. Horrific shit. I’d killed in cold blood. I’d killed in anger. Blood that I’d never be able to wash away stained my hands. I was a monster capable of monstrous acts, but what Duke Teerman had done to Poppy? What he’d likely been doing to her for years? That was below even me.

You care about her.

My fingers curled around the arm of the chair. I truly didn’t believe a person needed to care about someone to be infuriated and disgusted by how others treated them, but I’d lied to Kieran.

This wasn’t about revenge.

It was about her.

I turned my head from side to side, easing the building tension as I stared at the cane. All I saw was the blood draining from the lower half of Poppy’s face when she realized what she’d said the day we left her lessons with Priestess Analia. I could hear that slight tremor in her voice even now. I knew what it was.

Fear.

Actual fear, from the girl who snuck out and roamed the city at night. Who went up onto the Rise during a Craven attack. I felt my anger rising. And it was more than that. It was the role these bastards had played in everything forbidden to Poppy—what they’d taken from her. Friendship. Physical contact. The freedom to explore. To experience. She couldn’t even choose what she read. And because of the lengths she’d had to go to, the risks she’d had to take to have just a taste of those things. But worse yet, it was the shame I heard in her denials.

All of that factored into why I was willing to take these risks.

It didn’t matter what came next. That I’d inevitably become the cause of the fear filling her voice. That she was another monstrous act I was in the process of committing. I hadn’t thought of that as we walked back to the castle the night before when I was thinking of choices. She would not choose to stay with us once she knew our truth.

But I would not cause her to feel shame.

If I did?

Then that would become yet another act I would never be able to cleanse from my soul.

The sound of footsteps reached me. My grip on the chair arm relaxed.

Duke Teerman opened the door to his study, letting it swing shut behind him. I caught the faint scent of iron. Blood. He’d taken about three steps before the bastard realized the chamber wasn’t empty.

“What in…?” Teerman halted. One side of my lips curled up as I slowly turned the chair to face him. Those dark, soulless eyes went wide. They widened even more when he noticed the dead guard. “The fuck?” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Good afternoon.” I leaned back, propping my booted feet on the smooth, shiny surface of his desk. I made a grand show of crossing my ankles. He hadn’t yet dressed for the Rite—too busy getting a snack in. “Your Grace.”

The pale-haired fucker recovered quickly. I had to give him that. He straightened and dropped his cloak on the settee. Anger tightened the skin around his mouth. “I must admit, the utter disrespect of your actions has me at a loss for words, but I assume you must be here to turn in your resignation.”

I tilted my head. “And why would you think that?”

His nostrils flared. “Because you’d have to be a fool to believe you’d keep your role as a guard when you leave this office.”

“Well, for starters, I’m not going anywhere.” My smile spread as the Duke went rigid. “And secondly, I cannot behave disrespectfully toward someone I never respected in the first place.”

His too-red lips parted. My gaze dropped to the crisp collar of his white shirt. There was a small red drop there. Messy eater.

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m out of many things.” Reaching over, I picked up the cane. His gaze shot to it. He took a step forward, his large hands curling into fists at his sides. “Patience is one of them. I’ve been waiting for you to return for some time.” I paused. “Dorian.”

He halted once more, his back going straight as he stared at me. Understanding dawned in his features. He’d finally figured it out. Who I was. What he’d gladly welcomed into his guard and allowed to sleep beneath his roof. Why I was here. His eyes shot to the door.

“Run,” I urged. “I dare you.”

Duke Teerman locked up.

“Ah, there it is.” Running my fingers up the length of the cane, I leaned forward. “A flicker of intelligence is to be found.”

“You,” he snarled.

I folded my hand around the end of the cane. “Me?”

Teerman’s lip peeled back. His chin dropped as a low growl rumbled from him. “The Dark One.”

“So they say.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile. “But I’d prefer if you addressed me properly. It’s Prince Casteel Da’Neer.”

“And here I thought it would be traitorous bastard.”

I laughed softly. “That works, too, but you forgot a part of that title. It’s traitorous, murderous bastard.”

His throat worked on a swallow. “Is that so?”

I nodded.

“Do you plan to commit an act of murder?”

“Always,” I murmured.

A muscle throbbed at his temple as a long moment passed. “I know what you’re planning. You won’t get away with it. You have to know that.”

“I do?”

“You’re in my home, in my city—both of which are full of my guards.” He tipped up his chin. “All I have to do is yell, and you’ll be surrounded. There’s no way you’ll escape.”

“Then what?” I asked.

He smiled. “Then I’ll send your head back to the Queen.”

I snorted. “That sounded entirely dramatic and grossly incorrect.”

“And what exactly was incorrect?” He inched back a step, clearly thinking I hadn’t noticed.

“Your city is not full of guards loyal to you. It hasn’t been for a while,” I told him. Somehow, the Ascended grew even paler. “And you have no idea what I plan.”

Teerman laughed then. “You think I don’t know?”

“Well, you had no idea we’ve been in your city and home for quite some time,” I remarked. “You see, I wouldn’t want to give you too much credit.”

He laughed, low and hard. “You know, the Queen said you had a smart mouth.”

“Did she?” I asked. “I’m not surprised to hear she’s still obsessed with my mouth after all this time.”

“That’s not the only thing she said.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.” There would be no repeat of Lord Devries. There wasn’t much time. I had a Rite to ready myself for. “But I didn’t come here to talk about that bitch.”

“Then why are you here?” He glanced at the cane. “Your brother?”

I shook my head.

His cheeks hollowed. “The Maiden.”

I smiled.

“You will not get your hands on her,” he swore, his dark eyes glinting. “I promise that. You won’t—”

“You know what I find fascinating about the trees that grow in the Blood Forest?” I interrupted, drawing my palm down the smooth side of the reddish-brown cane, enjoying the rumble of his anger. “Besides the fact that you clearly treat these canes as if they are an extension of your withered cock?”

Air hissed between his clenched teeth.

I chuckled. “While bloodstone leaves nothing left of an Ascended, the wood of a Blood Forest tree simply kills a vampry. Slowly. Painfully.” One side of my lips curved up as I met his stare. “Leaving the remains to rot and decay, just like any other body.”

Teerman swallowed. “And what does it do to an Atlantian?”

“Not much.” I smirked. “I bet that gets to you. The Ascended want so badly to pretend they’re Blessed by the gods. You and I both know that is a load of shit. You’re nothing special. You never have been. None of you are. You’re just a poor imitation of us, desperately clinging to the last vestiges of your waning power and privilege.”

“And do you think you’re any better than us?” he retorted.

“Most of us are. Me? No. I’m not that much better. Hell, perhaps I’m even worse than some of the Ascended. But you?” I pointed the cane at him. “You’re not even horse shit compared to me.”

“You insolent—”

“Traitorous, murderous bastard. I know.” I sighed. “Anyway, back to these canes.” I watched him through half-open eyes. “I know what you do with them.”

Teerman went silent.

“I know you’ve used them against her.”

His shoulders straightened. “And did she tell you that?”

“Poppy hasn’t said a word.”

Teerman’s brows shot up. “Poppy?” he repeated, and I knew I’d made a mistake there. I’d slipped. The Duke stared, a slow smile creeping across his cheeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Now, it was I who fell silent.

He tipped his head back and laughed. “Anyone else taking an interest in her wouldn’t have surprised me all that much. She has a…certain way about her. A fire.” He laughed again, and I went cold. “Her last guard had a soft spot for her. But you? The Dark One? Didn’t see that coming.” One side of his lips curled up. “Then again, Poppy is beautiful. Well, at least half of her i—”

I moved then, leaving the cane on the desk as I vaulted over it. In a heartbeat, I had the Duke by his shirt collar and his back against the spot my boots had just dirtied. I clamped one hand around his throat, just below his chin, pressing my fingers into his cold skin until the fragile bones there started to crack. I didn’t break them, though. I wanted the fucker to still breathe but not scream.

“You will not say her name again,” I said as a thin rush of air wheezed from his gaping mouth. “Not Penellaphe. Especially not Poppy.”

Teerman grabbed for the cane.

I caught his arm, snapping it at the elbow. The crack of bone made me smile as a low moan rattled out of him. He swung his other arm. I broke that one at his shoulder.

“Make one more move, and your legs will be next,” I warned as his skin dampened along his brow. “Do you understand? Blink once for yes.”

Teerman blinked.

“Perfect.” I patted his chest. “There is something I want you to understand. You were already dead before you ever laid eyes on me. You were already running out of time. But your death, why it’s coming now, it has absolutely nothing to do with the Blood Queen or the throne and lands you’ve taken part in stealing. It has nothing to do with my brother. You were right when you said it was because of her. You’re dying right now, right here, because of her.”

A tremor went through Duke Teerman as he struggled to breathe. He went as still as a fucking statue, though, when I picked up the cane.

“You’re dying because of this.” I watched him track the cane as I moved it above his face. “The last time you used it on her, how many times did you bring it against her skin?”

He moaned, flopping unsteadily on the desk.

I leaned in until our faces were inches apart. “Use your eyes. Blink,” I instructed. “Blink once for each lash you delivered.”

Teerman’s eyes remained wide for several moments, then he blinked. Once. Twice. When he got to five, a rage that tasted of blood unfurled in my chest. When he finally stopped blinking, I shook.

I fucking shook.

It was part horror for what he’d subjected Poppy to, and part awe that she had withstood it. And a couple of days later was out on that Rise. Godsdamn.

“Did you break her skin?” I demanded. “Once for yes. Twice for no.”

He blinked two times rapidly.

“Have you drawn blood before?”

Duke Teerman blinked once as his lips thinned and pulled back over his teeth.

I inhaled deeply as I pushed up. Of course, he had.

Gripping him by his ruined shoulder, I roughly flopped him onto his stomach. His muffled groan of pain was just a precursor. I tore open the back of his shirt, exposing the pale line of his spine as I leaned over him and whispered into his ear the number of times he’d blinked.

Then I brought the cane down on his back that many times, each lash whistling through the air, sending his body into spasms, each blow opening thin slits in the skin.

I delivered an extra one just because I fucking felt like it.

When I finished and flipped him onto his back once more, he was a quivering mess, and the scent of piss was strong in the air. I shook my head in disgust.

His lips moved as he tried to speak around the cracked larynx, finally pushing the words out in a broken wheeze only Atlantian or wolven ears could’ve picked up. “Once…she…finds out who…you are, she…will…hate you.”

“I know.” I gripped the cane. “And just so you know, every part of Poppy is beautiful.”

“She…is.” Something flashed in his eyes. A flicker of dying sunlight amidst the darkness. “And…she will…always be…mine.”

“You sick bastard,” I snarled. “She has never been yours.”

Then I drove the cane through his chest.

Duke Teerman’s body reared, arms flopping as I let go of the cane. It remained in his chest as I stepped back. This time, I had all the patience in the realm to wait. His death wasn’t quick. I’d purposely nicked his heart, so it took several minutes for the blood tree to do its thing.

The Duke of Masadonia went out without even a whimper, body broken and urine staining his pants. The surge of savage satisfaction from watching the life go out of his eyes was short-lived, though. He wouldn’t lay a hand on Poppy again—or anyone for that matter—but it wouldn’t erase the pain and humiliation he’d inflicted upon her. Wouldn’t undo any of that.

I wished I could kill the sick bastard all over again.

Turning from the Duke, I stopped. I thought of what was to come tonight and the opportunity for a bit of dramatic flair I was now presented with.

“Well, Your Grace,”—facing him, my smile returned—“I do believe you will make a fine centerpiece for the Rite.”

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