Page 189 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

She was trying to give me space to process it all, but I could feel her tension, her worry, and the way she was barely restraining herself from asking what came next.

But instead of giving her an answer or considering what the hell we were going to do, all I could think about was the extra wagon attached to our carriage and the lifeless body it carried.

I hadn’t brought myself to look at his corpse since we’d left the palace. The memories of my father while he was alive were hard enough, and yet, somehow, the memories of his death were worse.

Each time I closed my eyes, I saw his blood on my hands, the way his skin was already turning a mottled shade of blue.

And it would be worse by the time we made it back to Bear Estate.

We had taken every precaution to delay the inevitable. After cleaning him up, we wrapped him in thick cloths soaked in herbal oils to help postpone the decaying process and to mask the odor, but that would only get us so far.

And while Rowan assured me that the weather would only be getting colder—a small mercy—we were still doing our best to make our way back to Bear before things got worse.

Once we crossed the border into our territory, I knew something was wrong.

Rowan felt it too. Her entire body went rigid when we stopped around midday to water the horses. We got out of the carriage to stretch our legs like we always did, but this time, I couldn’t shake the feeling of…wrongness.

Dread anchored itself inside of me, clinging to my bones like rust to an ancient iron blade.

I scanned the hillsides for any sign ofBesklanovvy, but there was nothing. Then I pointedly met my wife’s gaze, looking between her and the sky.

She closed her eyes briefly before giving a small shake of her head.

No incoming weather then, either.

Finally, I made my way over to Kirill and Henrick. Perhaps we would need to break away from the funeral procession to get home faster.

We had just decided on which of the soldiers we would take with us when a flash of crimson danced in the distance.

No.

I didn’t think, didn’t breathe before my swords were in my hands and I was spinning around, making my way back toward my wife.

One heartbeat had been too many to take my eyes off of her, to allow her to walk away when I could feel the threat in the air like I could feel poison in my veins.

My feet carried me forward, my gaze locked on Orik, thesvolochmarked for death and the dagger he held to my wife’s throat.

I barely registered the soldier who stepped in between us with his weapon drawn, cleanly severing his head from his shoulders as I made my way forward, never stopping.

Anyone who dared to step between me and my wife while she was in danger was my enemy.

“Unless you want her to die, Stepson, now would be a good time to stop,” Ava’s voice raked over my skin like ice.

“Don’t—” Rowan called out before hissing in pain.

I froze, staring at the river of red that bloomed from the dagger, steadily seeping into the fabric of her gown.

A wave of absolute fury crashed over me.

All I could see was red. All I could feel was hate. All I knew was that I would destroy him, would rip out his throat with my teeth and string up whatever was left of his body as a warning to every bastard who even thought of hurting my wife again.

And yet, that would have to wait.

I let out a slow breath, lowering my weapon and turning my head to face my stepmother.

“What is it that you hope to gain here?” I asked, injecting my tone with every ounce of the calmness I did not feel before addressing theaalioholding my wife. “And you, turning your weapon on a Clan Wife?”

Neither of them answered. Instead, it was Samu who stepped forward, blocking Ava from view as he spat on the ground.