With deadly intent, Maddek started for him.
Eyes widening, fury drawing back his lips, Zhalen began to rein his mount aside—as if to flee.
Then he made another fool’s choice and charged Maddek, swinging the axe at his head. Bloodrage volcanic, Maddek dodged the heavy blade and ripped razored claws through the leather girth that secured Zhalen’s saddle to his mount.
Overbalanced by the swing of his own axe, Zhalen tumbled from the galloping horse, saddle still between his thighs, landing hard on his shattered leg. The king screamed then, clutching wildly for his fallen axe.
Maddek heaved the murdering dog-king up by his hair. “For the lies you said of my father,” he told him, and ripped out his tongue. “For the rape of my mother and Queen Vyssen.” His silver claws shredded cock and balls. “And for Yvenne’s suffering.”
This Maddek would have made last longer. Forever. Yet he had not yet seen his bride, and she mattered more than vengeance ever could.
Still it was slowly, slowly, that Maddek dug his claws beneath the man’s ribs, relishing the agony in his rolling eyes and gurgling scream. All went silent and still when he tore out his heart. He used Zhalen’s own axe to cut off his head.
Both Maddek carried to the tower, for he’d promised to return to her with these on a pike. Late he was in keeping that promise. Yet it was still kept.
His Dragon had made a path for him through the Rugusian guard and into the tower’s opulent royal chambers, then ahead up the stairs. So many stairs. A few guards they caught up to, as if the Rugusians had hoped to use Yvenne as protection, for no mercy would they find from warriors whose queen and king the guards had murdered and tortured and raped and beheaded.
At the top, his Dragon sent more guards into Temra’s arms. Maddek stepped over their bloodied corpses as Kelir swung his axe at the heavy lock.
Throat thick with emotion, he bade them, “Wait for me.”
In the center of her tower chamber she stood, and nothing he saw of their surroundings. Only Yvenne, staring at him with armor so thick that he could read nothing from her face. So thin she was again, as if starved or afraid to eat, and the sight made his stomach ache.
Yet such joy also filled his heart and his throat, that not a word he could say.
He lifted the pike, showing her the head and heart, before tossing them aside. Because it was done. Vengeance was done.
There was only Yvenne. Maddek started for her.
And she said on a broken whisper, “Please do it quickly.”
He stumbled to a halt, agony ripping through his chest, because she had said that before. With his claws at her throat. “You think I would kill you?”
She gave no reply, though her lips trembled.
Silent.
Hurting.
Roaring filled his head. Cavernous pain opened within him. His voice was but a hollow echo of it as he said, “Do you not know I would tear my heart from my chest before I would ever harm you?”
Her moonstone eyes squeezed shut. A short, sobbing breath ripped from her.
In devastation, Maddek sank to his knees. “What have I done, never saying this to you?” he said hoarsely. “Never telling you these words that I should have said over and over again. What have I done, that you do not know how I would ride across the world just to lay my gaze upon your face? That I would crawl there on the mere hope of knowing your touch again? What have I done, that as I kneel here, you still do not know that with my full heart, I love you?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she buried her face in her hands. Sobs racked her small frame. So alone she seemed.
Never again. Rising, Maddek went to her, removing his bloodied claws before slipping his hands into her hair, gently urging her to look at him. “You are a queen, but you do not have to hide your tears from me. You say it is not the role of your people to comfort you—that is a duty that I will claim. Do you think I cannot see the walls you’ve built to protect yourself? Do you think I cannot see the scars you conceal or how many more are within you? My only prayer is that your wounded heart will one day heal enough to love me in return. If only a little. And trust that I would give up my life before hurting you. You are my heart, Yvenne, and my strength—and certainly my brains.”
A laugh shook through her sobs. Finally she looked up at him, moonstone eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “To have you after all of this, I would have to love you more than a little.”
Hope filled him. Throat aching, he agreed softly, “After all that I have done, you would have to love me very much. So will you have me, Yvenne?”
In answer, she wrapped her arm around his neck, urged him down for a kiss. He lifted her instead, brought her to his mouth, where her lips still trembled against his. Her breaths shuddered as he softly tasted her again, and he knew the sweetness of her love for him.
She drew back, her eyes searching his face, her hands cupping his jaw. “You shaved your beard.”
“Because no longer will you need to tug on it when you want me to listen,” he told her. “Always I will listen to you. Always I will hear your words.”
Her eyes shimmered with tears again as she smiled.
Gruffly he added, “And because it is custom to have a shaved jaw when I marry.”
Happy were these tears now, he saw. She kissed him hard, then again. “I will still make your life a misery,” she said between kisses.
The sweetest misery it would be. Cradling her against his chest, Maddek carried her to a door that would never imprison her again. “Then let us begin.”
CHAPTER 46
YVENNE
In the great courtyard still stained with her father’s blood, with bare feet on Temra’s altar, Yvenne married Maddek with all of Parsathe and Syssia looking on. Then celebration began, with Yvenne opening the luxuries of the citadel to all, but there were such great numbers that the feasting and singing spilled beyond the city walls.
With her brother and the Dragon, she reunited in private that evening around a table—and not one thing upon it did she fear would be poisoned. When Kelir’s sister joined them, Yvenne kissed Seri for her bravery, making the girl flush with embarrassed pleasure.
So happy Yvenne already was, so happy Maddek had made her—and this only their first day married. Her cheeks ached from smiling and laughing.
Yet not all was happy news. Toric seemed distracted throughout much of the evening, until finally he said, “I must leave the western realms.”
All other conversation around the table fell silent, and Yvenne sighed. Well she’d known this might be coming. Vela had said the Dragon’s wings would fly a great distance. And given all that her father had known—but shouldn’t have—she’d guessed what had happened. Because Vela had also said Toric still had the revenant’s poison in him.