AERIS
CHAPTER 16
Zerek cast her onto the bed as though she were neither woman nor flesh, merely a thing to be discarded. She struck the sheets, the impact jolting through her battered body. Aeris lay still for a breath, her ribs aching, her wounds tight with the pull of unfinished healing.
She took in the chamber—rough-hewn walls, the scent of damp timber and mead-heavy breath lingering in the air. This was the space given to Zerek and his men.
"Why have you brought me here?" Her voice was scratched from screaming. "I agreed to be your wife, but I am not yet yours. You cannot seize me as though I am already bound to you."
Zerek moved with slow purpose, settling into the high-backed chair, his grin edged with wicked amusement, his eyes gleaming like a hunter savoring his prey.
"Can't I?" he mused. "The moment your words gave consent, you became mine. Mine to command, mine to cast aside, mine to break if I wish."
Aeris swallowed hard, anger rising like heat through her veins. He spoke without care, without doubt, without fear. This man, this force who thought the world bent to his will.
"I'm leaving." She pushed herself upright, a tremor in her limbs she refused to acknowledge. The open skin of her legs burned as her feet met the cold wooden floor. Zerek did not stop her, did not even shift until her wrist was caught, his fingers iron-clad, immovable.
She jerked against his hold, her pulse beating hard. The pain of his grip bit deep, but she would not give him the pleasure of seeing her falter.
"You will stay," he said, voice firm as the weight of his command. "We leave at dawn."
Aeris yanked her arm free, hard enough to tear skin or pull bone from socket. She didn't care. Let it bleed. Zerek let her go, watching her as if the pain on her face was something worth seeing.
"You are mad, Zerek," she said, no title, no honor to his name. A madman needed none. "I am still princess of Duskari. You have no claim on me until the rites are spoken. I'll sleep in my own chamber tonight even if it kills me."
He leaned back In the chair, the firelight carving shadows into his face. Her voice seemed to please him. "Go, then," he said. "See what this madman does when crossed."
Her heart beat too fast. She told herself it was anger, not fear. She hated him, down to the marrow, to the stars and back. She had to see Soren. She had to know her choice meant something. That he lived.
She limped to the door. Her leg still ached, the wound deep beneath the wrappings. Her hand reached for the handle and pulled.
Two men stood on the other side. Big as oxen. Their bodies filled the doorway like stone walls. "Move," she said, weight shifting to her better leg.
They did not move. Their faces held no grin, no jest. Only silence. Their heat poured off them like forge fire, thick and heavy. "Bring her here," Zerek commanded, voice calm like a still lake before a storm.
Rough hands caught Aeris by the arms. She fought, striking out with her fists, but the men might as well have been carved from the cliffs. They didn't flinch. Her blows landed dull against them, useless. One held her wrists, the other took her legs, and they lifted her as if she were no more than a child.
"Let me go, you barbarians! Heathen bastards!" she spat, her voice sharp with fury. They carried her to Zerek and dropped her at his feet like an offering.
Aeris glared up at him. Her lip bled where she'd bitten it in the struggle. "You cannot keep me here. My brothers will come for me."
Zerek looked down at her, his eyes glinting. "I thought you no longer left your fate to others."
Her breath caught. She had said that—proud, foolish. She'd vowed not to hide behind her family's strength. And now she knelt, broken, held down by the very choice that was meant to free her.
"This is Duskari land," she said, unshaken. "You cannot do as you please here. My father will raise the banners. His riders will come. Skaldur will not have time to blink before you're cut down."
Zerek said nothing. He didn't need to. He had come with only a hundred men, but that was never the whole tale. For all she knew, there were more waiting beyond the forest, hidden in the hills like wolves.
But Duskari was her home land. Her brothers would not sit idle. Here, it was easy to gather men. Easy to stir the old loyalty. If they called the banners, Zerek would be crushed underfoot. No matter how strong he was, he was still only one man. And not even he could face an army alone.
"Will he?" Zerek asked, as though she had offered him a gift instead of a threat. His black eyes gleamed, not with fear, but hunger. "If only he would. If your father could raise his army, if your brothers could strap on their armor… then there would be no need for this. No need for marriage. I could slay them. Rightfully, openly. And the world would call it justice."
Aeris froze. She stared into those pit-black eyes and saw it now. What he truly wanted. Not peace. Not even a wife. War. Zerek hadn't come for alliance. He had come to bait them. To press Duskari into breaking the truce so he could descend with the army she now knew was waiting, curled beyond the hills like a snake in tall grass.
"You are a monster," Aeris breathed, the words pulled from her gut like rot. "So that's what this is. One brother dead wasn't enough, you want the whole line. You want to stain the river red with Duskari blood. All for revenge."
Zerek didn't move. He listened.
"Do you think that will make her love you? Your wife, whoever she was. You think slaughter will bring her back? No woman could love a man as twisted and ugly as you."
The last word hadn't left her lips when his face turned to stone. All the cruel humor vanished like mist.
He moved, swift. His hand clamped around her jaw, rough fingers digging into her skin. With a jerk, he hauled her up by the chin and flung her down on the bed again. The furs and straw groaned beneath her weight. Then he came over her, tall and vast like the edge of a cliff, blotting out the sunlight.
Aeris couldn't breathe. Her heart galloped in her chest as he leaned down, voice low as thunder: "Do not speak of her again," he said, each word slow and heavy. "Or I will cut out your tongue… and feed it to your father."
His breath was fire. His eyes burned like coals. And for the first time since she met him, Aeris felt real fear—not of pain, not of death, but of what lived behind this man's rage. Aeris knew he would. Knew it as surely as she knew the breath in her lungs, the marrow in her bones. Fear clawed at her heart, and her wolf—traitorous thing—let out a whimper, low and weak. Zerek's presence pressed against it, and the beast within her faltered, ready to bow.
Hate boiled in her chest, thick and searing, but it did nothing to free her. Her body betrayed her, and all she could do was blink, lowering her gaze. She wanted him dead, wanted the gods to strike him down where he stood, to take this monster and tear him from the world. But the gods did not care.
Zerek stepped back, his smirk returning, cruel as ever. "I will go and wait," he mused, as if it were a game. "Let us see how dearly the Duskari love their little princess."
Then he turned, leaving her behind. Shaking, breath uneven, drowning in the cold grip of fear.