Before Dez could reach Emmery, a guard, at least a head taller than him, seized his injured arm and hauled him back. Destonne sucked air through his gritted teeth. Another soldier snatched her up under his arm like an unruly piece of luggage. As they both feebly struggled, sparks popped off her fingers, wanting to blow the damn roof off this place.
Senka’s wicked laugh echoed off the walls as she spotted Emmery’s fire. “Smother that flame,” she ordered. She nodded to the guard restraining Dez. From a sheath at his belt, the soldier drew a dagger and placed it under Destonne’s chin. “One more spark and his blood will paint these walls.”
Emmery clenched her jaw and tried to slow her breathing, but it was like hammering a peg into a too-small hole, sure to crack the entire structure.
The demon's strange, milky eyes fixed on Brennen. As if mocking his horns, she stroked a finger along her antlers. “I do find your strange affliction so fascinating. To be trapped within that beast’s skin, yet cursed to think like a man, desire like one, and be treated as a pet.” She tsked softly and rose from the chair to saunter toward the wolf. In her hand, she held a vial full of fizzing white liquid. “I hold the cure for your circumstances.”
Emmery’s heartbeat dragged, as her eyes darted between Brennen and Dez. They both wore the same weary expression with a glimmer of hope shining beneath. Destonne’s eyes grew glossy and the blade at his throat scraped against his neck as he swallowed.
It couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be that simple.
This had to be some foul trick.
Brennen’s heavy growl reverberated off the walls, but he just stared at the vial the same way he’d stared at Emmery the night he’d lost himself to the wolf.
Hungrily.
“Stay your King’s obedient little lapdog and follow him into the Hollow, or”—she giggled an unpleasant wicked sound—“Eternal.Freedom.”
A stifling silence stretched. Expanded. Devoured the room.
Emmery held her breath as Brennen’s nails clicked along the stone and his gait shifted to a predatory stalk. His focus narrowed on that vial pinched between Senka’s fingers. He stopped a half step from the demon and blinked up at her, like he wrestled to keep the beast at bay when he longed for the cure.
“The choice is yours,” Senka said. She placed her hand between his horns, the way Emmery had seen Destonne do countless times. And the demon inhaled. Her eyes flared like she consumed his fear. Tasted it. Feasted on it.
Emmery willed Brennen to meet her stare, to turn around, or give some indication he knew they’d support him in whateverchoice he made. He’d said before he would never attempt to remove the spike because if it ended his life, he couldn’t do that to Dez. But would he do it now that the cure was placed at his feet? Would he abandon him? Her too?
“Do it.” Destonne’s voice rang clear as a bell at noon, cutting through the silence and doubt.
“Quiet,” Senka snapped. She rounded on Dez like she debated flying across the room and slitting his throat herself. “Is the blade not enough to shut you up?” She nodded to the guard who held him.
They lifted his tunic and shoved the fabric into his mouth. Boots scraping against the floor, he fought against the guard’s hold and shouted something, but the wolf didn’t turn around, perhaps from guilt or shame or sheer indecision. Or maybe Brennen knew if he faced his dearest friend, he would change his mind.
So he stepped forward and gingerly took the vial between his teeth like it was the most sacred, precious thing he’d ever held.
In a swirl of shadows and darkness, Brennen disappeared.
Emmery lunged. Her joints screamed as they stretched, but the guard held firm. “What did you do?” Emmery snapped at the demon. “What did you do with him?Bring him back!”
“He made his choice,” Senka hissed. She nodded to the massive guard who held Destonne. The guard lifted him off his feet like a rag doll and not a fully-grown man, and dragged him beside the velvet chair. Senka’s bare, blood-crusted feet slapped against the stone floor as she stalked to Emmery next. “Now, you must make yours.”
Emmery’s heart pounded and she couldn’t catch her breath. Every morsel of her attention fixed on the blade at Destonne’s neck. One quick flick of the guard’s wrist and his throat would be flayed like a cutlet. She couldn’t reach her magic or set this room alight before the soldier’s hand moved.
“Your choice is simple,” Senka began as she stopped to stand in front of Emmery. The distinct scent of decay wafted off her. “Either you choose your King, and you carry on into the Hollow.Or—” her eyes flared wide, and a wicked, evil snake writhed in that milky stare. “You get all you ever wanted.”
With a hasty snap of her fingers, a man appeared.
A man shrouded in a black mist.
With fierce green eyes.
Shade.
Emmery’s knees buckled and she barely managed to hold herself together. To keep herself from falling to pieces. Tears pricked her eyes as the man drank her in as if he’d infinitely thirsted and she was a finely aged wine.
She choked on her words. This had to be some trick.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispered. Her gaze darted between Dez and Shade. “This isn’tfair. You can’t do this. You can’t—”