A Kingdom of Bloodshed

*¬*Chapter Thirty Two*¬*

I don't even think when the fury hits me again, ripping my fist from Ryder's hand. I slam it into his face again and again until all I can hear is a dull roaring in my head.

⤗

"Kaz you need to be reasonable about this," Fin and Ryder state to me as I pace within my angry state. But there is nothing to think about. He took her from me. He took my mate from me again and I'm not letting Augustus get away with it.

"I should kill him. I should simply behead him for what he's done."

"As much as I'd love that, you need to think rationally on this. If we kill him, you may never see Thea again. You may never figure out how to separate her from Curseclaw. You need to be logical about this."

As much as I hate it, he's right. "You know Ry, you can be a royal pain in my ass sometimes." Ryder bows sarcastically saying, "At your service." But it makes me smile. His loyalty has been unwavering. Unfaltering. I admire that. Respect it.

Fin leans in the doorway, his face drawn and still. Raven stands by the window in the hall and Ryder leans against the table within the living room we all now occupy.

"Are you alright Fin?" I realized I've never asked him, checked up on him since Fawn betrayed us. Since he lost her.

Fin knows what I'm asking without the words being said. He shrugs, "I've accepted it. She made her choices and I made mine." Again I don't say what needs to be said instead conveying in a single glance, it's okay to be sad about it. Fin only nods back.

"So what are we going to do with him?" Fin asks, taking the attention off him. "We could keep him in tha barracks. I can keep an eye on him at all times, have guards stationed outside and make sure his time there is not pleasant."

The venom in Ryder's voice is thick. His hatred for Augustus palpable. Nothing compared to the warth I feel when I think of my sibling. Bloodlines be damned, if I could I'd have killed him eons ago.

"He can rot in the cell we've kept him in." I snark. We've got a holding cell within my city, for people who need it. Usually major crimes like murder and rebellion; but I haven't had to use them in ages. He's the only prisoner occupying those cells. Good. Let him rot in there and go mad from the silence.

When no one objects, I swiftly turn and exit the room feeling too emotional to be standing around. I need to run or exercise. Something to get this pent up frustration out. Aiming for the barracks on the far end of my property, I change from my formal wear and into fighting gear.

Adorning leathers and silk shirts made to repel arrows and bullets. Thin armor that's mightier than anything anyone has ever seen.

When I enter the ring I reach for several small daggers sitting within their holsters on the wall and without looking fling them at the target at the other end of the ring. Each dagger hitting bullseye. I don't stop until I've run out of daggers, turning to the arrows next then the swords, until finally I reach for the guns we have packed away.

Fae warrirors rarely use guns. We tend to rely on knives and magic but sometimes, metal is necessary. Sometimes guns are more powerful than magic.

Loading up a heavy assault rifle, I fill the chamber and fire off as many rounds as I can get until I need to reload. Doing that over and over again. Feeling the kick.

Smelling the gun powder. Letting it slide over my senses as I fall into that dark pit within myself.

Calm, calm, calm.

Thea is gone. Thea was taken. Thea, Thea, Thea. Her name clangs through me like a bolt. Shot after shot I take until the gun runs out of ammo.

Until my breathing is tight and I'm filled with aching restlessness again.