Page 99 of Throne of Ice and Blood
“Draven,” Empress Jessina says from where she and Bane are still standing behind his back. Her tone is sharp.
But Draven shows no fear or dread as he turns around to face them. From where I sit on my knees, I can see them fully now that Draven’s body isn’t blocking the view. Worry washes through me when I notice their expressions.
Displeasure pulses in their eyes as they fix them on Draven. He only walks up to them and bows his head in acknowledgement and greeting.
“Yes, Empress?” he replies as he raises his chin again.
“Drop the arrogance,” she snaps back, her pale gray eyes flashing with cold fury. “You know exactly why we are here.”
Draven closes his mouth and just looks back at them in silence.
“It has been weeks, and you still haven’t been able to capture the Red Hand,” Jessina says, her tone laced with that freezingrage. “Half of the humans in the city have now suddenly started refusing to work. And nowthis…” She stabs a hand towards the corpse of the purple dragon shifter that Draven bit the head off. “The Purple Clan is rebelling! You’re supposed to keep them all underneath our heel, and yet you let them attack you like this.”
Still, Draven says nothing.
“You know the cost of failure,” Emperor Bane says. His black eyes glint, and a slow and bone-chillingly cruel smile spreads across his mouth. “Don’t you, Draven?”
My heart pounds as I watch them. For a few moments, Draven only stands there. Then he dips his chin in the shallowest of nods and walks a short distance to the side. Turning his back to the Icehearts, and to me, he spreads his wings wide.
I stare in confusion at the strange gesture. Emperor Bane removes something from his belt and then moves so that he is standing directly behind Draven, but still a short distance away. Then he pulls his arm back and snaps his wrist.
A gasp rips from my lungs as a thin metal whip cracks against Draven’s right wing.
He flinches and squeezes his hand into a fist but says nothing.
Clenching my jaw, I press my mouth shut to stop the threat that I was about to scream at Bane when he snaps the whip across Draven’s other wing as well. Draven asked me,beggedme, not to interfere. If I do, it will probably only make things worse for him. So I force myself to do exactly what he told me to. Nothing.
Still on my knees, I sit there and watch uselessly as Bane whips Draven’s wings over and over again. That thin metal whip cracks against the thin membrane of his wings until it tears through it. Blood slides down the few untouched parts of Draven’s wings as the metal whip rips them open, leaving jagged holes and torn shreds.
I squeeze my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep myself from launching across the stones and ripping Bane’s throat out with my bare hands. Fury, the likes of which could burn down hell itself, roars inside me like a thunderstorm.
Next to Bane, Empress Jessina is simply standing and watching her mate whip Draven’s wings into bloody shreds. There is a mildly entertained look on her face. As if this is a common pastime for her.
Draven’s muscular body jerks with each strike of the whip, and he is clenching his fists hard, but no sound escapes his lips. No screams. No cries. No groans of pain. No whimpers. Nothing.
Cold hands wrap around my heart, strangling it so hard that my chest aches, as I watch him flinch with each strike. It’s followed by intense guilt that twists between my ribs like cold snakes. Because this is my fault. I’m the one who has been destroying clues that would lead to the Red Hand and I’m the one who has been manipulating the humans’ emotions every time I sneak down to the city, causing them to protest and refuse to work. And now, Draven is paying for that.
My heart cracks a little more every time the whip strikes.
Only when Draven’s wings have been rendered completely useless does Emperor Bane finally stop. Torn strips of membrane hang down in shreds, and blood coats everything that remains. It slides down the tips of his wings and drips down on the ground below, painting the gray stones red.
Draven remains standing completely still while Bane rolls up the thin metal whip and hooks it to his belt.
“Don’t fail us again,” Emperor Bane declares.
“Or do,” Jessina adds. A slow and vicious smile curls her lips. “Because next time, it’s my turn with the whip.”
Bane chuckles. Then the two of them spread their gleaming silver wings and launch into the air.
My head is pounding with so much rage that I can hear the blood rushing in my ears as I watch the two Icehearts fly back to their palace. Then I drag my gaze back to Draven, who still remains standing in the exact same spot. I want to rush over to him, but I don’t dare. If he’s not moving, there is a reason for that.
In the sky, Bane and Jessina grow smaller as they close the distance to the castle. Then they at last disappear from view.
The moment they’re gone, Draven sucks in a shuddering breath.
Then his knees buckle.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
