Well of the Damned

Chapter 45





Standing on the dais in the Temple of the Savior Asti-nayas, Adro’s knees quaked. He’d committed sins for which he could never atone, though he dedicated his life to the task. Entering a house of worship felt like the god was shining a beam of light directly on him, announcing to everyone in attendance what terrible things he’d done before he’d been branded. Now his queen was making him take the sacrament, receive water blessed by the god Himself into his body to cleanse his soul.

He knew he should be grateful to her for sharing a ritual with him that had so much meaning in her life, but she didn’t understand. He wasn’t a good man. He’d never been a good man. Only the brand on one forearm and the threat of receiving another — or worse, being put to death — kept him honest. Adro hadn’t become a warrant knight to save people; he’d done it to save himself.

She glared at him under a lowered brow, demanding silently that he drink. He didn’t want to disappoint or upset her. Far from it. She was the kindest, most moral and selfless person he’d ever met, and he wanted her to look upon him with trust and admiration the way she did Gavin and Daia and even Tennara. Her eyes grew more intense with every passing moment, as though she could change him with merely her will. Perhaps she could.

He raised the cup to his lips and sipped the water. It had a mildly salty taste, barely noticeable. He drained the cup, afraid to look at the statue towering above him for fear he’d see disgust etched in the marble features. The acolyte was watching him as intently as Feanna was, as if they both expected him to be struck down by Asti-nayas or choke on the god’s blessing as it went down his throat.

Nothing happened. Nothing someone might observe, that was. An excitement stirred within him, not the sort he got in the brothels, but more complete. It rippled through his body and mind, igniting thoughts he’d long suppressed, ideas that, executed poorly, had earned the brand on his arm. Why would Asti-nayas awaken these thoughts unless He wanted Adro to act on them?

Feanna smiled at him with dancing eyes. She looked eager to tell him something, but the temple wasn’t the right place. Picking up her skirts, she went down the steps, and he followed, tossing a look back at the acolyte who no longer stood with head bowed. She watched them from beneath her veil.

The other battlers accompanied them up the aisle and out into the brilliant day. Adro shielded his eyes with one hand, squinting.

At once, the gathered citizens began calling their greetings, waving and cheering the queen. She turned in a slow circle, smiling at her many admirers and then did something out of character — she curtsied like a stage performer. He saw the surprise on Tennara’s face, who exchanged glances with Lilalian. Adro found it amusing and joined the crowd in its applause, and Anya raised her fist and gave a cry of drunken satisfaction, but when Feanna extended one foot, lifted her skirts and showed her ankle, he lost all remnants of self-control.

“Your Majesty...” Tennara started.

He swept the queen up in his arms and crushed her to him, plunging his tongue deeply into her mouth. Her arms circled his neck, pulling his lips harder against her own. Around them, the noise of the crowd seemed to quiet, but for Anya’s raucous laughter and Mirrah cheering them on. His lust and greed grew even stronger, if that was possible. To hell with the crowd and the battlers screaming at him to stop. To hell with the twice-damned king. Feanna was his now, and he wouldn’t give her up. And he would have her here and now.

He started to unlace his trousers with one hand, and moved the other to Feanna’s arse. Hands grasped his arms tightly and yanked them behind his back. When at last the hands managed to pull their bodies apart, Feanna’s eyes were glowing with desire. Looking at him through her lashes, she panted sensuously, bosom heaving. Blood trickled down her chin from where his teeth had torn her lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and then licked the blood from her skin.

The gathered citizens around them stood frozen in shock, their mouths agape and eyes wide. Those in front who saw this gasped or whispered to his neighbor.

“My Queen,” Lilalian said. She had a hold of Feanna’s upper arms and turned her towards the waiting coach. “Get inside. Quickly.”

“This isn’t over,” Feanna said, splaying one hand across his chest. She swept past him and climbed into the carriage.

Tennara shoved him up against the side of the carriage. “What in the hell were you thinking?” Her eyes burned with fury, and her hand touched the hilt of her sword as if she were considering using it.

Adro gave her a lopsided grin. He probably shouldn’t have done that, not in public, but Feanna had wanted it as much as he did. He knew it. Tonight, he would finish what he started.