The scaffold reeked of blood—the blood of people before her. The metallic tang clung to the air, a cruel reminder of King Varun Bannister's victims.
Disgusting...water is free, isn't it? Lakshmi stopped herself from spitting out. Isn't it enough that I have to die but I also have to stomach the stink?
Splinters bit into Lakshmi's knees, but she refused to slump. Letthem see a queen, even on her knees.
Below, faces she loved stared back. Old Nira, who'd taught her to braid wheat crowns as a girl.
Jivan, the blacksmith's son, his arm still bandaged from injuries inflicted by Varun's guards. His only offense was standing up to Zaza Bannister, Varun's heir, the monster who tried to take from his sister what she didn't freely offer.
And little Meera, clutching the ragged doll Lakshmi had stitched for her during the famine.
Why did you come? she wanted to scream. Run. Forget me.
Varun's boot slammed into her legs, buckling her knees. Pain shot up her thighs but she refused to scream, simply bit down hard on her lips.
Screaming was for infants and cowards, Queens endure.
"You kick like a little girl, usurper" She told King Varun, a little one sided smile appearing on her face.
"Bitch!" He spat out.
Lakshmi didn't expect the outrage from the crowd.
The crowd hissed. A child's voice rang out: "Let her go!"
Easy, Meera. Don't poke the rabid viper, Lakshmi thought grimly.
Varun yanked her hair, forcing her to face the crowd. "Look at your queen" he sneered. "No crown. No throne. Just a slave."
A rotten tomato soared from the crowd, splattering at his feet. Varun's guards lunged, but the crowd swallowed the thrower. Lakshmi's throat tightened.
Stop. Don't die for me.
"Varun... little piggy, Varun. You are nothing but a little insignificant pig. Little Piggy" Lakshmi made snort noises.
She wanted his focus on her, not on her people.
"Still loyal?" Varun pressed his dagger to her throat, drawing blood. "Beg for her life. Grovel, and I'll make it quick."
Silence.
Then—
Old Nira shoved her sleeve up, revealing the faded sun-and-sword crest tattooed on her wrist, Lakshmi's family crest.
"I'll beg for your death, worm," she spat.
Lakshmi started laughing. "Like I said, little piggy"
She kept making snort sounds.
Good. Don't let them see our fear. Take our lives but you can't have our pride, little serpent.
The crowd erupted. "Lakshmi! Lakshmi!"
Lakshmi wished they would stop. She wished they would think of themselves instead of her. If it will make their lives easier, she would prefer they knee to him instead of her...but it was Jharna State, telling them to knee before this worm was like telling them to eat their own hand.
Varun's face twisted. He backhanded Lakshmi, her vision blurring, Instantly before he turned to old Nira "Cut her tongue out!"
The executioner grinned, pliers glinting. Lakshmi braced, ready to headbutt him if he touched Nira.
Boom.
The gates exploded.
Warriors on wolves stormed the square, led by a woman with antlers woven into her hair. The crowd froze. Even Varun stumbled back.
"Alpha Queen Zoya," he croaked.
Ah, the infamous wolf queen. Lovely timing, Lakshmi mused, though her heart raced.
Zoya dismounted, her wolves circling the scaffold. "I'll take the girl."
Varun laughed nervously. "She's nothing! A traitor!"
"Yet you're terrified of her." Zoya smirked at the chanting crowd. "My husband collects broken things. He'll enjoy this one."
"No!" Jivan tackled the executioner. The mob surged—fists, rocks, fury. Varun's guards drew swords but were overwhelmed.
No. No. No. Zoya will kill them all, Lakshmi knew this.
If they won't save their own lives, she will do it for them.
"Stop!" Lakshmi screamed, her voice raw. "Don't fight! Stay alive!"
The crowd stilled. Meera sobbed, clutching her doll.
Zoya tossed a bag of gold at Varun's feet. "The girl. Now."
Varun hesitated, eyeing the seething mob. "Take her."
Old Nira threw herself at Zoya's wolf. "Don't touch her!"
Zoya rolled her eyes. "Tedious." She snapped her fingers. A wolf clamped its jaws around Lakshmi's waist, hoisting her into the air.
Meera darted forward, doll raised. "For you, Queen!"
The wolf bolted. Lakshmi caught the doll mid-air, its button eyes staring up as the wind stole the crowd's cries: "Come back to us, Lak!"
---
Hours passed like snail.
The wolf's fur reeked of musk and old meat. Each jolt sent pain screaming through Lakshmi's ribs, but she clung to Meera's doll.
"You know," she shouted to Zoya, "if you wanted a carriage, I'd have recommended horses. Less… saliva "
"You are mouthy" Zoya commented causally like the insults hurled at her kind weren't insults. "I like that. I like you little queen"
"Thanks. Your approval means so little to me" Lakshmi answered sarcastically.
Memories clawed at her—her father's head on the palace gates, he was the first thing Varun took from her...the only blood family she had left.
Her mother had died in childbirth and her father never took another wife. Focused on his daughter, his little princess, teaching her how to be a great ruler one day.
That dream was short lived.
Thanks Varun. I will carve out your heart as a reward, usurper.
Lakshmi focused on her wrist, where she had carved the family crest with glass - Sun and sword.
I will avenge you, Papa.
The wolves halted at a fortress of jagged black stone. Zoya dragged Lakshmi down by hand.
"Welcome to the Den of Ashes, little martyr." She told Lakshmi.
Not so fast, Wolf Queen. Stay and receive your reward.
Lakshmi swung at her. Zoya caught her fist, laughing. "Good. My husband hates fragile toys."
Toys? Lakshmi bristled. I'll show him fragile.
She swung again but was easily restrained by Zoya and toss to the ground like paper doll.
She was wolf blood, Lakshmi was human. It was no match at all.
She dragged inside. Firelight glinted off weapons lining the walls. A shadow stirred—tall, broad-shouldered, moving with lethal grace.
Alpha Kael emerged.
Lakshmi's pulse stuttered.
Oh. She'd expected scars, a monster's face. Not… this. His golden eyes glowed like embers, his chest smooth and unmarred, hair falling to shoulders that could carry the weight of her hatred—and, annoyingly, her curiosity. Another tyrant. A ridiculously pretty tyrant.
"A gift, husband," Zoya said. "The Thorn Queen."
Kael's gaze pinned her. Heat crawled up Lakshmi's neck. Focus. He's a murderer, not a painting.
"Kill me," she said, tilting her chin. "I'd hate to ruin your lovely dungeon with my infectious charm."
He gripped her throat. Her breath hitched—not from fear, but from the calloused warmth of his hand. Traitorous body.
"No." His thumb brushed the bruise Varun left, startlingly tender.
"No?" She forced a smirk. "Touched by my wit? Don't worry, I'll autograph your dagger—"
Kael yanked her against him. His heartbeat thundered under her cheek. "You're mine now."
"Yours?" She laughed, ignoring the flutter in her stomach, probably fear. "I'm not a stray pup, Wolf King. But if you're offering treats, I prefer Varun's head on a platter. Tongues intact, preferably."
His heartbeat thundered before he looked at Zoya
"I will take my gift. Thank you, Zoya"