The King's Cursed Bride

Bonded: Part 1

            

Elon glanced at her, and the fire in his eyes flared, burning hotter and brighter.

Carissa's gaze slid along his sword's reddened edge. Had he killed the other men? She followed the steel up to his blood-flecked hands—gentle, calloused hands that healed and comforted and loved.

"Quint." His voice swelled to fill the room, almost as if it were a physical weight making the air heavier. Though his eyes were fiery, his tone was ice, the pitch of his voice low and deadly.

Quint was a few shades paler than when she'd last looked at him. He didn't speak.

Elon strode one step forward, and though thick metal bars separated them, Quint backpedaled. "You've stolen my bride from me, imprisoned her, tormented her."

"I did so for justice." Quint jerked his chin upward, though his trembling belied his bold words.

"This isn't justice, Quint. You know it isn't. You could've come to me, yet instead you chose to prey upon my wife." He twirled his sword idly, the red metal flashing. "Are you going to come here and face me like a man? Or," his lips tipped in a smile, a tight, controlled smile, "are you going to make me come for you?"

Quint drew in a shuddering breath, backing farther into the cell.

A key flashed into Elon's palm, seeming to appear from nowhere, and he stood before the cell padlock. "I granted you mercy, Quint." The key clanked against metal. The door swung open. "I forgave your acts of defiance, hoping one day you'd forsake the dark path you were on. Instead, you allowed your bitterness to twist you into this." He stepped into the tiny cell, his presence filling what little space was left. "You've asked for justice. Now I've come to deliver it."

Quint's jaw tensed. Then he lunged for Carissa.

"No." Elon's sword clashed against the stonewall, right where Quint would have been had he not pulled back. Carissa flinched as the blade whistled through the air, inches from her ear.

Quint scrambled to the other corner of the cell, eyeing the exit, while Elon planted himself in front of Carissa. Elon's sword arced through the air. Quint lifted his sword to deflect, but Elon batted it aside. It clanged against the cell bars before clattering to the stone floor.

Elon set the tip of his sword on the ground, standing with his legs splayed. Carissa squeezed her the base of her finger, trying to ease the pain. Her husband was so often tender and shy and sweet, but his expression revealed none of those characteristics now—no amused glint in his eyes, no soft smiles, no flush on his cheeks.

In the dim of the cell, his gaze sparked against the darkness, tension rippled across his brows, and his mouth was pressed into an unforgivingly flat line. He could have been a statue of one of the kings of old, his stern expression carved into marble.

"Quint of Oran, son of Nevar, you have been judged and found guilty."

Quint's laugh was a tiny, slippery thing. "No judge, your highness? No trial?"

Elon glanced down at Quint, the anger in his eyes smoldering, yet his body remained as still as stone. While Quint had loomed above her and dragged her by her hair, he'd seemed a giant, yet he seemed smaller now, barely above Elon's chin.  "I am the judge, and you have been tried. You've taken my bride, you've tormented her, and you've betrayed me. Do you deny these charges?"

Quint's brow puckered, and he seemed as though he were considering it. Then he shook his head. "No, but... you're a king of mercy. Might I be granted a second chance?"

Elon's laughter was dark, rolling into the room like a storm cloud. "You think I haven't? The only reason I've waited to retrieve my queen until now is on your account, Quint. I gave you every chance I could, first allowing you to hear Valen's entreaties and then hers. I waited until I knew for certain this was the path you'd chosen, and nothing I or anyone else could do would sway you from it." His voice grew a hint softer, his expression a touch sadder. "She suffered, so you could be given every last chance at mercy I had to offer. And you rejected every single one." And then the sorrow was gone, as if evaporated by the heat of his fury. "Know you the penalty for these crimes?"