“Again.” The three-tailed barbed whip whistles through the air and slashes across my already torn and bloody back. I grit my teeth tightly against the pain and the urge to vomit, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me weak. I don’t know how long I’ve been down here; I lost all concept of time after the first thirty lashings.
The skin on my back and chest is a shredded mess. Blood soaks the remains of my clothes, dripping down my limbs, pooling at my feet. My power is nearly tapped out, struggling just to keep me alive, let alone conscious. Not for the first time, I wonder if today will be the day that her temper and need for complete control will finally drive me to an early grave.
“Again.” Her angelic voice, so thoroughly at odds with the depraved agony she’s inflicting on me, grates on my every nerve, ringing in my ears like a twisted lullaby. Mother stands far enough away that my blood won’t stain her extravagant white gown, but close enough to revel in my pain. It fuels her, nourishes her in a way that disgusts and enrages me. With every passing moment and every strike of the whip, I feel my hatred toward her reaching the point of no return.
“Are you ready now?” she asks, and I almost choke on a near-hysterical laugh. I know, as well as she does, that giving in to what she wants would put an end to this round of torment. But I also know that giving in would only make things worse in the long run. Weakness in front of her is fatal—it’s an invitation for her to dig in and never let go. The only reason I’ve lasted this long without breaking is because of my strength of mind, my stubborn determination not to fold.
“This is a waste of time,” I spit, my voice raw and shaky. Her blood-red stained lips pull down into a dissatisfied pout, and she lets out a theatrical sigh, turning to face the third occupant of the small room.
“Audie, my love,” she purrs, tilting her head to the side, a cascade of red curls spilling over her shoulder. “It seems he is being exceptionally obstinate today. Perhaps it is time for you to get more innovative with your methods?” I barely conceal a shudder as the sadistic son of a banshee who caters to her every whim lets out a booming laugh behind me.
“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty,” he growls out. I don’t have to see his face to know he is wearing a sneer, pleased that she let him out to play. “How far should I go?”
“It’s up to him,” she murmurs, the snap of her wings announcing her arrival a moment before her beautifully made-up face hovers into view. In a flash, she’s gripping my chin tightly, digging her red nails into my flesh. “Let’s give him a moment to decide how he wishes to proceed?”
“Let him kill me. At least I will finally be rid of you, your hypocrisy and endless torture!” I know what she is after, of course. It is always the same. Nothing pleases her more than to see me beaten down, to strip away my dignity. She wants me in the worst of pain so that I will spill my secrets.
Audie grips the back of my neck, jerking my head around so that we are face to face. “You dare insult my queen?!”
I know I shouldn’t goad him, particularly when his chest is heaving with barely restrained rage and his eyes are glazed over with a manic glint. But unfortunately, stubbornness is a trait I am well known for.
“As you have pointed out, she is your queen; I refuse to claim her.”
“You insolent brat!” He gives a roar of anger, tossing me onto the ground before snatching up his weapon and descending on me with the promise of death in his eyes.
He cracks the whip across the backs of my legs once, twice, three times in quick succession, causing a fresh swell of pain to surge through my body as tears blur my vision. The very few friends I trust often refer to my stubbornness as stupidity. In this situation, I cannot argue.
He rears his arm back to strike at me again when Mother lifts a hand, halting him in his tracks and allowing me a moment to breathe. To look at her, you wouldn’t think she was capable of such evil. Her slim frame is cloaked in a tremendous display of wealth. White lace, silk, pearls, and other garish ornaments are masquerading as a gown. Her ridiculously high shoes are fitted with hundreds of jewels of various sizes and colors, and in my pain-induced deliriousness, I wonder how challenging they must be to walk in.
An equally vulgar pendant hangs around her neck, while a crown adorned with diamonds and a ruby heart, as large as my fist, rests atop her perfectly coiffed scarlet hair. Her large white wings eclipse my view of the room as she hovers in front of me, clutching her diamond staff tightly, its top decorated with large red hearts. She appears every bit the perfect Faerie Queen Mother, meant to lead the Amore faeries to their destinies.
If only they knew.
“Well?” she asks cheerfully. “What will it be, Dominic?”
I slump forward, pressing my cheek against the cool stone floor. “As I have told you countless times before, I do not know where it is.”
“I know you have it.” Her voice is even and calm, and though she’s the very picture of elegance, I can see the frustration written across her face. While she consistently begins our visits—as she refers to them—with a ruse for whatever imagined punishment she deems necessary, it always comes back to what she wants from me in the end.
“Mother,” I sigh. “I don’t. If I had it, I would give it to you right now and flee to one of the other kingdoms.”
Her eyes narrow, a warning sign that sets my teeth on edge, before she sighs dramatically.
“My son, I do not enjoy inflicting pain on my only child.” Lies. “It pains me to see you hurting, and if I believed there was an alternative to revealing the truth, I would abandon these lessons in a moment!” Lies and more lies. “I implore you to just tell me. No harm will befall you; I give you my word.” She turns her face toward me, her eyes shining with false tears. “I love you, my son.”
The biggest lie of all.
“Mother, how do you even know this diamond exists?” I shakily push up into a sitting position, immediately stifling a groan of pain. The Cupid’s Heart is, in fact, not a diamond. But if I can drop false clues to lead her astray, I will do it with no hesitation.
“It exists.” Her eyes flare with a frenzied desire that is genuinely frightening. “And if you won’t admit to possessing it, you will help me find it. Every moment of your life will be dedicated to locating and placing it in my hands. Otherwise,” she dashes forward, her face so close to mine that our noses are almost brushing. At this proximity, her features are distorted and grotesque, a perfect match for her soul. “You will mourn the day your cursed father abandoned you. Do you understand me, Dominic?”
“Yes.”
She holds out her hand. “Declare an oath. When you give me the diamond, you will be safe from any harm. Whether it be by my hand, my powers, or my orders.”
My thoughts sprint as I attempt to find the wording that will please her, but not give me away. Yet, another moment of hesitation, and she will know I am trying to evade the oath.
“I, Prince Dominic of Vaeloncia,” I begin. “Swear to scour our kingdom until I locate the diamond and bring it to my mother.” I know I am protected from any repercussions of breaking the oath, since I included the word ‘diamond.’ Still, I can’t help but wonder how much time this will actually buy me. After all, she has proven she can cause just as much harm without using her powers.
She regards me suspiciously through narrowed eyes, even as she continues her side of the oath. “I, Queen Sabine of Vaeloncia, accept these terms and swear to uphold my oath of safety and security when my son succeeds.” Our hands glow a brilliant red for the pulse of two heartbeats, and when the light fades, a minuscule heart silhouette remains on our palms.
For a moment, the air between us is taut, like a bowstring ready to snap as she regards me with open hostility. I force myself to remain still and maintain eye contact, despite the fire licking at my every nerve, demanding that I flee.
“Leave,” she finally says, her voice dripping with disdain. “And make sure you have something to present to me by tomorrow night.” She spins away, her wings fluttering briefly before folding neatly behind her, her white gown flowing like water as she glides out of the room.
Audie steps forward, grasping my arm with rough hands and I stagger, barely able to hold myself upright, my entire body trembling. His breath is hot against my ear as he leans in, his voice a low growl. “You may have survived today, prince, but I assure you, I will break you eventually.”
I refuse to answer, focusing instead on placing one foot in front of the other as I make my way toward my chambers. Every step sends a fresh jolt of pain through my body, my vision blurring from exhaustion and agony. My thoughts are sluggish, but one thing remains clear—I have to find a way out of this. I need to stay one step ahead of her, to protect the Cupid’s Heart, and most importantly, to survive.