Sneak Peek at THE OFFERING
Spoiler Alert: This is from the third (and final) book of The Pledge trilogy, so if you don't want to ruin anything from earlier books then DO NOT READ THIS! (Do I really need to say this???)
PART ONE
PROLOGUE
Unflinching, the
executioner stood on the blood-stained floor facing the prison cells as he
wielded an axe with a razor-sharp blade.
“What’s the
matter, darling? You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” a woman’s voice
crooned amidst the barbaric scene—the cavernous surroundings, with bars and
cells, and echoing all around them the desperate pleas of prisoners begging for
their lives.
Niko straightened,
shifting his gaze away from the executioner. He tried to shake off any
last-minute qualms the beautiful but treacherous queen might be able to sense
coming from him. Her gossamer green gown was inappropriate for the occasion, as
if she’d dressed for a ball rather than a slaughter. But that was typical, he’d
come to learn. She was as frivolous as she was deadly.
“Of course not.
How could I possibly have any doubts? If we don’t do this, we’ll never be able
to convince Queen Charlaina that we’re to be taken seriously.” He matched her
expression, wicked smile for wicked smile, hoping she felt half the
anticipation he did beating through his veins.
The sound of
shackles, and the rumble of an approaching scuffle, made it clear that Xander
was nearing them. Niko was a fool if he expected Xander to go down without a
fight.
A part of Niko
wanted to skulk back into the shadows. To hide where Xander wouldn’t be able to
see him, so Xander wouldn’t know that it was he who’d betrayed him.
After all, Charlie
had sent the two of them to make peace with the Astonian queen. To find a way
to come to agreeable terms with Queen Elena so that no one—on either side of
the border—would come to harm.
Yet here he was,
making his own bargains. Ones that would
keep him safe forever. Ones that would,
hopefully, bring him and Sabara back together again.
Even if it meant
sacrificing those around him.
“Niko,” Xander
spat his name when he saw him standing at Elena’s side. Her hand was draped
possessively over his. “You...you traitor,”
he snarled, curling his lip. “And you,” He turned his silver eyes on Elena
then. “How could you let this...this coward convince you of anything? Are you
so weak of will? Don’t you see he’s only using you?”
Niko stiffened,
wondering just how much Xander knew about him. About his history—and how far
back he and Sabara, the old Ludanian queen, really went. About how long he’d
been alive.
But Xander
continued as he thrashed against his chains and the guards on either side of
him. “I trusted you. You said if my revolutionaries joined forces with you to
overthrow Sabara, Ludania would have peace with Astonia. Have you no
conscience?” he shrieked at the queen he’d come all this way to negotiate
with. “I thought we were friends.”
Her grip
tightened, and with it, her resolve. She drew Niko along with her, forcing him
out of the shadows, until they were standing face-to-face with Xander, watching
him resist, like an animal caged. The guards shoved him to his knees and forced
him to kneel before her. “I suppose that
was your first mistake, then,” she answered in a voice so devoid of emotion, it
made Niko shudder inwardly. “Because I most certainly do not have friends.” She gave a signal to the man
in the executioner’s mask—a black leather covering that exposed only his mouth
and his unsympathetic eyes.
The two guards
dragged Xander toward a small, round opening in the stone floor, a hole through
which blood could easily drain away to the sewers. They, along with two others who’d appeared,
pinned him to the ground while he continued to writhe and scream. They waited
until he was too weary to fight any longer, until he had no other option but to
accept this fate he’d been handed.
Then the
executioner raised his blade.
Niko would have
closed his eyes, if those of Elena hadn’t been observing him as keenly as they
were watching the scene unfolding before her. Unlike Niko, she had no interest
in turning away. She seemed to relish the moment.
When the axe fell
and the sharp crack of metal struck stone beneath, Niko felt the slightest jerk
from beside him. But when he turned his gaze on her, he saw that she was
frowning at the hem of her gown rather than at the grisly view at her feet.
“Will you look at
that,” she said and clucked, craning her neck to get a better look, and
ignoring everything else going on around her. “He got blood on my new dress.”
She shook her
head, and turned her attention back to Niko. A smile replaced the frown. Her
look spoke nothing of the horrors they’d witnessed or the defiling of her gown.
Her entire demeanor shifted into something else as her hand slid from his wrist
and moved up his arm to his chest, her fingertips finding their way along the
ridges of his still tensed muscles.
“Come, love. Let’s go back to bed,” she purred. “I need to get this mess off me. Besides, I have other
things I’d like to show you.”
He obeyed numbly, allowing
the queen of Astonia to pull him along, back through the corridors and along
the cobbled stones until they reached her opulent—if somewhat overdone—bedroom,
where she dragged him back into her bed. He wondered if he’d ever be able to
purge from his memory that image of what he’d just witnessed.
Or forget the
sound of Xander’s screams.
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