The scaffold reeked of blood—his blood. The metallic tang clung to the air, a cruel reminder of King Varun Bannister's victims.
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 Vikram Bannister, Varun's heir, the monster who tried to take from a girl 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.
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.
"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.
Good. Don't let them see our fear. Take our lives but you can't have our pride, little serpent Varun.
The crowd erupted. "Lakshmi! Lakshmi!"
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.
"Stop!" Lakshmi screamed, her voice raw. "Don't fight! Live!"
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 Later**
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.
At least the view's better than Varun's dungeon, she thought drily.
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 crave out your heart as a reward, usurper.
Lakshmi focused on her wrist, where she had craved the family crest with glass.
The wolves halted at a fortress of jagged black stone. Zoya dragged Lakshmi down by her hair. "Welcome to the Den of Ashes, little martyr."
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.
The gates creaked open. Firelight flickered against walls lined with weapons. A shadow moved—tall, broad, claws glinting.
Alpha Kael emerged.
Scars mapped his torso, his eyes molten gold. Another tyrant. Lakshmi thought, though she couldn't look away.
Zoya shoved her forward. "A gift, husband. The Thorn Queen."
Kael's gaze pinned her. She lifted her chin, blood crusting her lips. "Kill me. Let this end."
He gripped her throat. For a heartbeat, she thought he'd crush it. Then his thumb brushed Varun's bruise, his touch unsettlingly gentle.
"No," he growled.
Zoya's smile faded. "What?"
Kael yanked Lakshmi against his chest, his heartbeat thunderous. "Mine."