Chapter 818
Chapter 818:
“What is it?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.
Dominic’s eyes narrowed menacingly, and he coldly said, “The sex slave who stabbed Makenna. If it weren’t for her, Makenna wouldn’t have been exposed.”
At his words, the three of us wore a grim expression.
Rage welled up within me, and I said, “Let’s go to the dungeon and have a talk with that sex slave!”
With me leading, the three of us headed for the dungeon where the sex slave was imprisoned.
Bryan’s POV:
The putrid stench of decay and blood overwhelmed my senses as I ventured deeper into the dungeon’s shadowy depths. Moisture clung to the ancient stone walls, creating an atmosphere thick with foreboding.
“Makenna! You wretched witch! Death won’t stop me—I’ll haunt your soul beyond the grave!”
The sex slave’s hysterical shrieks ricocheted off the dungeon walls before I even laid eyes on her, each word dripping with venomous hatred. Quickening my pace, I soon encountered the grim sight—the woman bound to a cross, her failed attempt on Makenna’s life having led her here.
Her once-fine clothes hung in ribbons from her tortured frame, tangled hair matted with blood and grime. Even as death’s shadow loomed over her, her lips never ceased their stream of bitter curses.
My patience snapped like a bowstring. “Silence!” I thundered, my voice reverberating through the chamber.
The woman’s head jerked up at my command, hope flickering in her wild eyes as she recognized me. “Your Highness! I’m innocent!” she pleaded desperately. “I merely exposed Makenna’s true colors!”
Blood roaring in my ears, I snatched a nearby whip, my movements sharp with barely contained fury. The leather sang through the air before biting into her already ravaged flesh.
𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗵: 𝖌𝖆𝗅𝗇𝗈𝖛𝖊𝗅𝘀﹒ⅽ𝗈𝗆
The crack of the whip split the air, drawing fresh crimson lines across her back. “Ah!” Her scream pierced the dungeon’s heavy atmosphere.
“What possessed you to attack Makenna?” I demanded, my voice rough with rage.
Her face contorted with venom as she spat, “If not for that witch Makenna, would the king have cast us out like worthless trash? Would we have fallen so far from grace? How could our lives have crumbled to this? Everything—every shred of misery—is because of her!”
Clayton, watching with clear revulsion, cut in sharply, “You’re deluding yourself. Makenna never once suggested your banishment. The king never even declared such a punishment. Your lies won’t change that truth.”
But reason had abandoned her completely. She thrashed against her bonds like a wild animal, heedless of how the ropes bit into her flesh, her screams growing more unhinged with each passing moment.
“If it weren’t for Makenna, why would Evelyn say such things?” she howled, her eyes burning with murderous rage, her features twisted as if she yearned to tear Makenna limb from limb. “If Makenna hadn’t monopolized your affection, the king would never have condemned us. The blame lies with her alone!”
At the mention of “Evelyn,” my eyes narrowed as I recalled the events of the night with growing suspicion.
Though my father had never explicitly decreed the sex slaves’ banishment as rogues, Evelyn had masterfully manipulated events toward that very outcome. There must be something evil behind all this!
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