Page 181 of Heir of Broken Souls

He blinks furiously, raising his chin as he swallows his retort.

The guards pull him along to the right of the island’s entrance, far harsher than before if that’s even possible, not caring when he trips and stumbles. If anything, they make sure he does.

After endless halls and corridors, the guards stop before a large double door that reaches the high ceilings. The deep mahogany groans as the guards stationed by the door place their hands on their hilts, dip their heads to their fellow guards, and pull the doors open.

Awaiting the prisoner are the royal families in all their glory, each representing the element of their court.

To the far left sits the king and queen of Ornx, the red gown adorning the black-haired queen matching that of her king in his red suit—the pair representing fire.

To their right follows the king and queen of Cardania, the teal and blue clothing showcasing their love for Water Court and complimenting their glorious black skin.

Even farther down, the king and queen of the house of Eden perch dressed in a fine forest green. But to the left of them, the towering thrones sit empty.

Finally, in the center, the royal family of Azalea sit poised and regal in their thrones. King Damon and Queen Elena, adorned in a beautiful shimmery silver.

Despite the vastly different powers thrumming within the room, the royals all have one thing in common—despair.

The prisoner shuffles through the silent courtroom, his eyes gleaming with delight as they rise to the royals sitting high above him on their thrones. He barely even flinches as the guards place him beside the Fae shackled to the floor with iron, a black cloth concealing her face.

King Damon rises, his sapphire eyes locking on the two prisoners.

“The royals are gathered here today for the trial of Peter and Phoebe Maloone. The once former heirs to the throne of Entrile, the house of Air.” King Damon glances to his left, at the vacant seats. “After a unanimous vote, the royals of Entrile will not be in attendance today. If there is to be a tie on the decision of your fate, we shall bring forth a jury. Do you understand?”

Silence is his only answer.

“Very well,” King Damon drawls, his gaze shifting to his right. His chin dips, and King Henry of the Water Court mirrors his movements before he rises and leaves.

Peter, without the cloth over his head, tracks the movement.

“Considering the allegations against the Maloone twins, the court has decided to do things a little…differently today,” King Damon announces.

King Henry returns to his seat, and with another subtle nod, the doors he just walked through open again and three guards stroll in.

Peter finally reacts, and Phoebe beside him, her head concealed in a black bag, snaps to attention at the sound of the guard’s boots coming to a stop before them. With no explanation, the guards roughly yank the prisoners’ arms, one on each, as the third guard pulls out a small black briefcase. At the sound of its click, Phoebe struggles against the grip the guard has on her, making two more step forward to hold her in place.

The guard removes two syringes from the case, making Peter’s eyes widen.

“A truth serum,” King Damon announces, his gaze not flickering with an ounce of sympathy as the prisoners are injected. “To make for a fair and just trial.” He takes his seat, his gaze moving to the other court royals. “Joseph, if you wish to start.”

The king and queen of the Fire Court rise, King Joseph clearing his throat while the prisoners gasp in pain, the serum taking its toll on their corrupted bloodstreams. He faces Peter, free of the cloth. He looks directly into his hate-filled eyes and asks, “Peter Maloone, do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth throughout this trial?”

“Of course not, you filthy firebreather,” Peter spits.

Instead of getting angry, the royals chuckle.

“I think the serum is working just fine on him, dear,” Queen Alexandria says, patting her mate’s arm. The red gown makes her amber eyes shine bright with vengeance as she stares at the prisoners.

The queen of Azalea rises. Elena folds her hands in front of her silver gown, her movements graceful. “Peter, you are here today due to the evidence brought forth against you in regards to the use of dark magic. Is it correct that you have used such power?”

Peter visibly shakes, his neck turning red as a vein in his forehead protrudes. “Yes,” he grits out, the admission causing him pain.

Something shutters in Queen Elena’s gaze before she turns to the second prisoner. “Phoebe Maloone, do you admit to the crimes held against you of partaking in the dark power alongside your twin brother, Peter?”

A shrill cry rings out before her stuttering, “Y-yes.”

“And is it true you possess the ability of mind control through eye contact?”

Tension fills the room. The royals hold their breaths. Peter turns distraught as Phoebe begins to writhe in agony beside him before she screams, “Yes!”