Beast’s own knives from it. Does he think to hack at Beast’s fingers?
“It appears anger awakens this strength of yours. Does pain make you angry? Would it allow you to break free of that cage?” The cool dispassion in his voice is more unnerving than any battle lust could ever be.
I was raised by a man such as he—a man who held cruelty and superior strength in high regard. A man who felt any matter was best settled by fists or swords or crushing force, and that peace came only after you had salted the earth or slain all who survived. I spent an entire lifetime being ever watchful in a household full of men precisely like this one. They are capricious, and that unpredictability makes them even more dangerous than their strength.
“Should we kill him?” Gen’s whisper against my ear is naught but a slight movement in the air as she asks the very question I am struggling with. Would Beast care if I killed his father? I think not, but the complications would be nearly insurmountable. I shake my head and point at Gen.
She nods. “You wish me to do it?”
I put my lips to her ear. “No. The king would immediately suspect you, and in a choice between you and Cassel, I am not certain where the king’s heart would fall.”
Her nostrils flare in irritation—an irritation I share. In spite of my warning to her, I take a step, thinking to intervene in some way, but Gen’s hand clamps down on the back of my gown.
“Is everything all right, General?”
I freeze, then shift to peer in the armor’s reflection. It is one of the guards. Gen tugs my arm again, more frantically. Her eyes are wide and she thumps her hand silently against her chest, then points to her ears. She hears his heartbeat.
He’s going to die.
“We heard a . . . a noise and thought we should check.”
“It was nothing but this beast. We are about to see just how strong he is.”
The guard’s head rears back, clearly startled. “But, sir, the king gave the order that he wasn’t to be—”
There is a whisper of movement, followed by a muted gurgle. In the silver reflection, it looks as if the general and the guard are embracing. Until the general shoves the other man from him and lets go, leaving a knife protruding from the guard’s chest. Beast’s roar of fury rattles the lanterns on their hooks as the guard slumps to the floor.
Cassel looks down at the dying man and nudges him with his boot. “It is too bad our prisoner’s battle lust rages so out of control. How were you to know that the others failed to relieve him of all his weapons, or that he could reach through the bars of his cage and kill you?” When next he speaks, I can hear the smile in his voice. “And when he hears of it, the king is sure to let me question you the way I wish.”
Chapter 64
As Cassel strides back toward the main part of the floor where the other guards are, I hear him call out, “It’s nothing. The prisoner is simply earning his nickname. Your man will stay with him for the next few hours until he settles down. The rest of you remain here at your posts.”
Before he has finished speaking, I hurry over to the fallen guard. Gen kneels beside me. “Can he be saved?”
I shake my head. “He was stabbed in the lung. Even now he is drowning in his own blood.” There is another rattle and thud against the door as Beast, still in the grips of his battle fever, reacts to this news.
“That is horrible,” Gen says. “And all for trying to follow the king’s orders.”
The guard moves his lips, trying to say something, but only red bubbles emerge. He begins to cough. I grab the end of his cloak and wipe away some of the blood. “Easy, now.”
Gen’s face is pinched white, her shoulders hunched slightly.
“Are you all right?”
She nods. “It is just so loud—the beating of his heart.”
He coughs again, his heart beginning to race in panic even as it does not have enough blood to do so. “It is an ugly way to die,” I murmur. And certainly not a death deserved by someone who tried to act so nobly.
My hand tingles with the memory of the fallen guard back in Rennes, so many months ago. He, too, had been handed an ugly