Page 40 of Little Mate
She exudes it without trying. Holds more than most and was below me until we crossed paths. Now, though, she’s the apex.
I do her bidding.
“How long have you known?”
“I should’ve spoken sooner.”
“Yes. You should have.” A scream rends the air and I’m over to them in an instant, walking inside just as she tosses his tongue to the floor, his blood dripping from the knife I recognize from our first meeting. She’s gripping the handle tight, fingers turning white from exertion. “This is my punishment for you, Nicolo. Had you used that appendage, been strong and full of honor, my parents could’ve been saved. Your silence is now infinite; be thankful that’s all I take.” Turning to face me, she smiles. “Please send him back to his family. He’s learned his lesson.”
“As you wish.” With the snap of my fingers, both guards look up, pride in their eyes while Nico whimpers—crying in a heap on the ground. The one to the left is one of my generals, and he awaits orders while the other stands at position; he’ll clean up what is left behind. No trace will be accepted. “Brodej, he’s to be escorted and remain unharmed. I want three men with him, and then they are to stay and guard the Moore borders until we decide how to proceed. No one in or out unless Paolo’s children grant permission. Is that understood?”
“Yes, my lord. Would you like me to accompany him?”
“Not yet, but I expect those you choose to be discreet and trustworthy.”
“Yes, your majesties.” Not just me. He addresses her too, and the flash of softness in her eyes toward him is proof she heard. “No harm shall come to them.”
“Thank you, Brodej.” Gabriella walks over, placing herself in front of me, and gives him a curtsy. My general is old. He’s seen a lot of the world as the head of my army, his position slightly above Veltross, and manners is the one thing he appreciates after integrity. It shows respect—acceptance—and coming from his queen, that’s a valuable honor. “When you reach my lands, please ask for Augusto and say the words by blood and pact and he will reply we are one. That promise is sacred to us, and no one outside of those we trust know it. He’ll know I sent you.”
“It will be done, my queen.” A moment later he walks out of the cell occupied with Nicolo, the man leaning heavily on him, and they disappear up the stairs. Quiet once again fills the room, yet this time the acrid scent of piss is heavy. Fresh.
“That’s gross.”
“Agreed, pretty girl.” Without being asked, the other guard rushes over to an old well at the center of the room and brings up a deep bucket of water, the liquid sloshing over the sides before it splashes the old fool. Rossi coughs, his chest sounding rough, yet his color has returned to normal.
No longer choking. Gabriella relaxed her control over him.
That is, until she turns in his direction. There’s darkness in her eyes. The need for revenge. “Why?”
“Gabriella, he’s poisoning you against your people. How could you believe that I’d ever...fuck!” His body thrashes, mouth open in a scream loud enough that those on the other floors whimper. I hear their prayer for leniency from other prisoners, not for him, but themselves and then the pacing of another. Chains scrape against the floor from one side to the other, and I smirk.
He’s a defiant soul, and yet to have an audience with me.
I’ve kept him for my own amusement.
A trespasser on my land that was dumb enough to get caught.
I’ll let him rot for a century before granting him an audience.
“Answer me,” my pretty girl says, her voice calm. Too calm. Yet her hands are fisted, her wrists moving in circular patterns and with each rotation, Rossi further cries out in pain. “Be a man and face me.”
“You don’t demand from me, cunt.” He’s crying, the words gritted out, yet when Gabby snaps one hand to the left, the sound that rends the air is that of a broken bone. From the sound of it, it’s in the area of his spine, and after he still refuses to answer, she smirks and the right hand mimics her earlier action.
Blood pours from his nose and empty eye socket. More fractures.
“Mori in igne.” No sooner have the words passed through her plump lips that the room heats and his bones expand, pushing against his flesh without an exit. The skin stretches, bruises rising from deep within while his entire frame shakes from the pain.
Die in fire.
Such a simple command, but the effect is a beautiful thing to witness. To see a grown man crumble like a pathetic bitch.
“Please stop.”
“Beg me.” Her hands open and he slumps, head lolling. Her alluring green eyes look at me and she tilts her head in his direction, the silent request clear. “Go on, Mr. Rossi. Beg.”
Only garbled groans are heard from him, and that won’t do. In two strides I’m standing in his direct line of sight, and on his next intake of breath, my hand smacks him across the face. His head snaps to the side and his front teeth break, the bloodied nose now a small geyser and it sprays me, ruining my shirt and dirtying my face.
I want to sink my teeth in his neck and rip it out, laying it at her feet like a present.