“All you do is lie,” I spat, pressing my hands against the cool glass, needing the barrier between us.
Balthazar’s face contorted with anger, his eyes blazing with all-consuming fire.
“You think I have always been like this, an evil monster who takes pleasure in causing pain and suffering? You are wrong. There was a time when I was not consumed by such darkness.” His voice trembled with emotion as he spoke. “I was a father of five with a wife. The Timehunters killed them and destroyed my home. It was Mathias who sent them. He was jealous of my life and the happiness I enjoyed. But Darknesses shouldn’t be happy—that seems to be an unwritten law. Your mother, the fucking whore, turned me against Malik. She made me imprison him. She killed Layla. The monsters are upthere.” He stabbed his forefinger overhead. “You’re too blind to see it. You and your gladiator.”
His ferocity hit me like a physical force, and I stumbled backward, my breath coming in short gasps. How could a man who spoke of love and loss also speak such vile words? The contradictions of Balthazar—the grieving father, the scorned lover, the ruthless killer—swirled before me, obscuring the line between truth and lies.
The last echo of Balthazar’s claims pulsed in my ears. Alina—mymother—and Mathias were vicious monsters? The words tangled with my thoughts, a knot I couldn’t untie. Despite the dread that twisted my stomach, something about his accusations felt uncomfortably plausible.
“Prove you’re not lying,” I said, though the distance between us was less for safety and more for preserving my crumbling resolve. “If there’s one thing you can tell me, where is Marcellious?”
A devious grin stretched across Balthazar’s face, splitting it like a crack in a stone statue. My skin crawled with unease.
“Why bother asking me where he is when Mathias knows? He’s just toying with you, painting himself as the hero while he and Raul are thick as thieves.” Balthazar’s voice dripped with malice, his eyes glinting with a cunning light that revealed his true intentions. I could practically taste the deceit on his breath.
Bile rose in my throat at the implications, but I shoved it down with a fierceness born of fear.
“Balthazar, stop turning me against Mathias,” I said, my voice carrying an authority I didn’t feel. “I know you’re trying to poison my mind again, just like you did with me before with Roman.
His eyes, dark pools reflecting years of torment, softened as he looked past me, somewhere distant and unreachable.
“You should worry less about Marcellious and worry about your unborn child,” he murmured, his voice laced with a regret that seeped through the thick glass. “Leave and live with your gladiator and protect your unborn child. One minute, they are here. The next, they are gone.”
He splayed his bony fingers.
I swallowed hard against the lump forming in my throat. His words carried the weight of genuine loss—a feeling I knew all too keenly.
“I fucked up a lot,” he said, a shadow passing over his features. “My wife always said to leave the past behind, and I should have listened to her.”
A haunted look claimed his gaze. “You remind me of my beautiful Viking wife. Don’t believe Mathias or Alina. They are the greatest monsters, yourmajesty.”
I looked at Balthazar in disbelief. Why was he calling me “your majesty?”
“Yourmajesty,” he echoed mockingly, yet with a hint of reverence that unsettled me further.
Is he making fun of me?I stood frozen, the damp air of the dungeon clinging to my skin. Could the heart of a monster still recognize truth? Or was this another layer of deception as intricate and convoluted as the labyrinth that held him captive?
A chill crept down my spine, whispering doubts and fears I had long suppressed. And in the gloom of the dungeon, under the scrutiny of a broken man, the foundations of everything I believed began to tremble.
The heavy thud of boots on stone shattered the charged silence.
“That’s enough, Balthazar!” The thunderous and commanding voice radiated authority as it cascaded down the stairwell.
My heart lurched against my ribcage, jolting me from the hypnotic web of Balthazar’s revelations. I jerked back, the keys in my hand clinking faintly, a chime of trepidation. My gaze snapped toward the source of the outburst, where the shadows morphed into the imposing figure of Mathias.
His presence was like a storm cloud bursting forth, his eyes fierce with an intensity that could rival the sun’s blaze—terror seared through my veins, ice-cold and paralyzing. The air turned thick, suffused with the acrid scent of danger, and every instinct screamed at me to flee.
I stood petrified, my breaths coming in shallow gasps. Once a mere prison for the condemned, the dungeon now felt like an arena where hidden truths clashed with the facade of trust I had clung to. Suddenly, a chilling realization gripped me—Mathias’ sinister intentions were far from over, and Balthazar’s fate was the key to unraveling the darkness lurking beneath our feet.
Just as I grasped what lay ahead, Mathias beelined toward a handle in the wall, and I knew he was about to make his next deadly move.
CHAPTER SIX
OLIVIA
The air in the dungeon was tense; the musky scent of old metal mingled with fear.
Without a word, Mathias reached for a rusty metal handle protruding from the wall. He turned it with a twist of his wrist, and a hissing sound filled the chamber.
