Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

50

'I never would have thought that you would make such a good actor, Fenrys,' Maeve said, tapping her filed nails on the arm of her chair.

Fenrys, eyes blank as he knelt before Maeve's throne, didn't answer.

'I really thought you loved me. I thought I could trust you.'

He said nothing.

Maeve sighed, almost in a truly apologetic manner. 'I will have to punish you, you know that? But seeing as you're my favourite... I'll give you a choice.' Upon the emptiness that rang about the room, she licked her lips, clasping her hands together in her lap. 'One - step down from your position as my Second.' A small smile slid onto her lips. 'I happen to recall a certain someone who is very keen to take your place.'

Though he didn't move aside from a slight twitch of the fingers, Maeve's smile only grew wider. She knew him too well, could read him too easily.

'Two - remain my Second, but take the blood oath.'

His head suddenly snapped upwards, eyes flaring wide with flashing rage and fury. A low, rumbling growl tore out of his throat.

Maeve hummed before eventually letting out a small, suppressed sigh. 'Third and final choice. What better punishment could there be for you than to watch your own mate suffer?' Her smile gaped open in a leer. 'I don't intend to hurt you, dear Fenrys. Not in a physical way, at least.' She tilted her head. 'I'm sure you've guessed what I'm asking for by now.'

He stood, arms loose by his side, the veins tensing and disappearing as he clenched and unclenched his fists. 'No. Never. Not in a million years. I'd rather kill myself first.'

'How utterly noble of you.' Her tone dripped with boredom and disappointment. 'Remember, Fenrys, that you owe your life to me. When those Adarlanian men slaughtered your sister...'

'Oh, shut up.' The voice that spoke was still Fenrys', but it came out different; as a menacing hiss like a swarm of bees, and Maeve's eyes widened before a satisfied smile settled upon her lips. 'There we are. See? No need for manipulation or a blood oath.'

Fenrys had his gaze fixed on hers unwaveringly, eyes simmering.

She was aware - they were both aware of the change. All those years ago, when Fenrys has seen his sister so battered and broken... a piece of him had broken along with it. But it hadn't fallen away. No - it became something else entirely. And it had a name. Wrath.

'I trust you enough as my Second, Fenrys. Don't let me down again.'

'Yes, my queen.' His tone was mocking. Fenrys lifted his head to stare at her, and even Maeve herself was frightened, just for a moment, the intensity of the hatred in his eyes. Cold. Lightless. Even the flames had died away, reduced to nothing but glowing coals. His lips were twisted into a dark, humourless smile.

He walked forwards; one step, two, three, and as Fenrys Moonbeam moved, he paused briefly, stooping down so his lips brushed the dark queen's ear. 'I will fight. I don't care who lives or who dies. But you do not control me. Attempt to order me, and I won't hesitate to kill you, whatever your rank, whatever your power.' His voice was a smooth, scornful purr, venom lacing his every word. 'Try not to test my patience.'

Whatever signs of weakness Fenrys had ever shown were gone as he smiled, eyes empty as the night, before pivoting sharply for the exit. Every single step of his prowl radiated a deadly power as he strolled away.

Maeve stared after him with heat singeing her cheeks - and terror etched into her heart at what she may have created.