Page 7 of When Roses Burn

One day, I’d get the chance to destroy everyone who ruined me, and Briar would pay the most for it. I had no idea what had become of her, but when I found out, that bitch would beg for mercy.

“Knox,” Dromon said, pulling me from the past.

When I looked at him, he nodded toward the ring. My gaze followed his gesture to where the crowd had parted enough to reveal the man strolling around the cage. When he waved his hands in the air, the crowd cheered louder for the victor of the last match.

The winner wore black clothing and had the tattoo of an ebony snake on his right hand. The serpent coiled from his fingertips to his wrist, where a full moon hovered above it. When he lowered his hands, he revealed the black pentagram on the back of his left hand.

A night caster.

Lifting the bottle, I gulped down some more while the man circled the cage. He moved in and out of view when he got to sections where the crowd blocked him.

The caster had no idea we sat in the crowd, watching and waiting. If he did, he’d put his arms down, shut up, and slink away like the piece of shit he was—just like all his kind.

As I tapped my fingers on the table, my claws lengthened and retracted to create a steady ticking as the beast prowled beneath the surface. I didn’t let my claws fully extend; if I did, they’d be over six inches long, and I wouldn’t let the beast come fully out to play. This bastard was mine.

The bottle clinked against the table when I set it down, rose, and walked toward the cage. The crowd didn’t notice me as I stayed to the edge and in the shadows I’d once traversed as a child.

And the sorcerer certainly didn’t see me as I approached the cage. If he did, he’d know death was coming for him and run while he still could.

CHAPTER TWO

Briar

I kept my shoulders back and chin high as the woman circled me, adjusting my white dress and muttering to herself about length and fit. Apparently, my breasts were offensive; I wasn’t sure why, but they irritated her as she shoved first one and then the other toward the middle.

I bit my tongue to keep from telling her to stop. If I did, it would only bring down more of my mother’s wrath, and I’d had enough of that to last multiple lifetimes.

I’d spent the past ten years locked away here, a prisoner in my own home. A prisoner who my mother paraded around like a strange, tarnished trophy whenever she decided to humiliate me, which was far more often than when she spoke to me.

It didn’t matter if a sorcerer was light or dark; the only time they were allowed to wear white was during their Needing. Then they were to be dressed up in white and offered up as a virginal sacrifice to the harem.

We were to be the virtuous brides and grooms who entered the harem not to marry anyone inside, but to choose our side, either light or dark, day or night. Would we choose either the god and goddess of the sun, Sol and Soare, or the god and goddess of the moon, Mond and Lune?

It was a question answered by the choices made within the harem.

Until then, no caster was supposed to wear white. Our entrance into the harem was the only time the color graced our bodies… but not for me.

After catching me and Seth in the middle of having sex, my mother and her cohorts dragged me back to Nightshade. My screams and pleas for them to show mercy to Seth fell on deaf ears.

Once they returned me to the kingdom, my mother locked me in the east tower, the one with a view of only the rest of the castle and with the least amount of sunshine. There was at least a small bathroom, but no shower; I cleaned myself the best I could in the small sink.

My mother left me there for a year with nothing but food and water to nourish me, a rock floor to sleep on, and a single, moth-eaten, gray blanket. She never gave me new clothes, so I remained naked throughout my stay and was denied so much as a hello from those who delivered my meals.

At first, the solitary existence and separation from Seth nearly drove me mad. The sickening reality of what they were doing to him haunted every waking moment and terrorized my dreams. And then, I resolved not to let her break me.

She couldn’t keep me locked away forever, not even she could deny our rituals, so one day she’d have to remove me from the tower, and when she did, I would find Seth. To do so, I couldn’t let insanity claim me or let myself waste away.

When she finally let me out, I couldn’t leave the castle grounds; my mother ensured that with her magic and the guards she assigned to watch over me. Not only did she keep me under constant surveillance when outside the castle walls, but the only clothes she gave me were white ones.

While all the bound casters in the kingdom always wore black, those too young to have gone through their Needing yet were allowed to don clothes in green, purple, or blue. I was the lone soul in Nightshade dressed from head to toe in white, and everyone knew what had happened with Seth; they were aware I wasn’t a virgin. My mother did it to remind me, and everyone else, that I was soiled, according to her.

It was humiliating, as my mother meant for it to be, but not as embarrassing as walking around naked, which was my only other choice. She also insisted I wear something red; whether it was a ribbon in my hair or a bow around my waist, the red had to be noticeable.

As she told me, the first time she tied a bright red bow around my waist, it was a representation of the blood I’d spilled for someone other than our gods and goddesses. I didn’t remind her that men didn’t spill any blood; I’d only end up back in the tower.

While it humiliated me in the beginning, years of being an outcast amongst my kind had toughened me to their stares, leers, and ridicule. At first, I hated the white dress with its red, but eventually it became a badge of honor to me.

So what if they all knew I had sex with the man I loved instead of saving myself for the harem? I was certain none of them were still virgins when they entered the harem; they just pretended to be.