Caged Kitten (All the Queen's Men #2) - Rhea Watson Page 0,154

done. The connection I shared with his brother probably wouldn’t even matter—I belonged to this sadist, and that was that.

The prince exhaled softly, almost disappointed, and I realized my eyes, my wobbling lower lip, had betrayed me.

Tully, however, didn’t give two shits about the legalities of a blood contract. A guttural growl rumbled through him, muffled behind Lloyd’s hand. His tail suddenly poofed and slashed about, and seconds later Lloyd dropped the enormous black cat, both hands flying to his own throat instead. The warlock collapsed to the ground, colorful dust gusting around him, and scratched at his neck, gasping, red-faced and panicked.

Beyond pleased with himself, my spoiled familiar sauntered away like he was wiping his hands clean of Lloyd Guthrie for good, tail up and hooked at the end as he made his way to me.

Flicking his feet like he’d just taken the world’s biggest dump in his litterbox.

Gods did I ever love him.

Elijah, Rafe, and Fintan might have had my heart, but Tully Fox would always and forever be my main man.

Wordlessly, Rollo swiped a blade from his side and offered it to me by the handle. At least nine inches in length and forged of pure silver, the handle mirrored the star constellations patterned on his broad chest plate. I stared at it for a beat, then looked up at him, everything inside gone quiet. My heartbeat steady. My hands still. My knees strong—nowhere near buckling anymore.

Tully eased up on his unseen hold of Lloyd’s throat, and the warlock gulped down a strangled gasp as Rollo faced me.

“Free yourself, Katja,” the prince said softly, his blade hanging between us. “Take it or not… The choice is yours.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I took the blade, coiled my fingers around the ornate handle, and gripped hard. My familiar released Lloyd from his magic, allowing the warlock to topple over, gasping and heaving, coughing into the rainbow dust all around him. Barefoot, I marched right up to him, crouched down, and shoved him upright against the wall. Gritted my free hand into his shoulder, nails digging into his expensive suit jacket.

In his hateful eyes, I saw my mom’s face, the one I only knew from photos—taken from me too soon. I saw Ewan and Jackson, my best friends, my brothers, stolen, their lives cut short. I saw Dad, my rock, my protector—heard his death rattle and felt him slipping away from me.

“Kitten,” Lloyd rasped, his hand suddenly on my thigh, stroking my bare skin with his thumb. Too intimate. Too familiar. Like he still owned me. “Don’t do something you’ll always regret—”

I thrust the blade into his left eye and didn’t stop until its tip thunked against the wall. Fae-forged, it cut through his eye, his brain, his skull, and right out the other side. While I shook when I let go, falling back on my heels with a stuttering breath and staring at a listless monster, I knew for the first time in my life… I was free.

And I regretted nothing.

32

Katja

By the time we made it back to the visitors’ grand foyer, the inmate population of Xargi Penitentiary had finally discovered there was a whole different side to this hellhole. A veritable rainbow of jumpsuits littered the hall, clumps of supers scattered between the marble columns, scuffing up the once pristine floors with blood and dust from the bowels of Xargi. Among them was the odd warlock guard, some who, maybe like Thompson, weren’t total dicks to the cellblocks assigned to them. For all I knew, the rest were dead—like their warden.

And it didn’t matter.

I didn’t care. With Tully in my arms, traipsing after Prince Rollo with a battalion of fae warriors flanking us, I felt secure—and not because of the armed guard. I had my familiar and my magic again, and the man who had decimated the Fox coven had met his grisly end by my hand.

The only thing that would make this moment better was if—

“Rafe!”

My vampire stood out in the sea of lost inmates, not only because he was one of the few red jumpsuits, but because of him. Ridiculously rugged and handsome, a supermodel with heart and soul. His gorgeous aquamarine gaze soared up the staircase to me, and Tully wriggled out of my arms—smitten little traitor—and blitzed through armored fae legs down the stairs and straight to him, me at his fluffy heels.

Rafe marched away from the crowd, many of whom retreated as Rollo and his posse ambled down the stairs, and he met me with