Daughters of Askara, Tome 1 : Everlong

“What happened to her?” he asked Emma, the unspoken without my permission clear behind his words.

“It was an accident while sparring, Father,” she said. “It’s nothing serious. This type of break never takes more than a few hours to heal.”

“I’m well aware of her regenerative capabilities.” The smile he turned my way made gooseflesh ripple across my chilled skin.

“I never dreamed she would have such an unexpected genetic quirk. That marvelous ability to heal shouldn’t be wasted.” His lips pursed. “I suppose we’ll simply have to continue testing her limits.”

“Is that what you call it?” Emma snapped. “Testing her limits?” She held her hands outstretched for us to see. “You use myhands to break her. It’s my hands covered in her blood and my shoulder she cries on while her bones mend.”

His eyes hardened. “You aren’t suggesting I enjoy what has to be done to Madelyn?”

“Oh no, Father. That would make you a monster.”

The crack of flesh meeting flesh resounded in the enclosed yard.

My shoulders bunched, bracing for an impact that didn’t come. Glancing up, I watched Archer’s struggle for composure in the tense lines of his shoulders and the sweat dampening his brow. Emma’s scowling face bore the imprint of her father’s hand.

“Never take it upon yourself to hurt Madelyn this way again.” His gaze swept the scuffed-up earth beneath our feet and passed over the training stick a few yards away. “She’s too weak to be properly trained. It’s a waste of your time and talent.”

“And he wouldn’t find me half as amusing if I could defend myself.” Shaking my head, I tried to clear away the rebellious thoughts streaming through my mind.

“Bite your tongue, girl.”

I almost told him I already had. I’d awakened today transformed with an odd sense of purpose. I wanted to train, was ready to fight, ready for something. It was the only reason Emma agreed to the quick match even knowing Archer was on his way. She had known I needed to dull the edge of whatever consumed me.

“Maddie’s fast. With more training she could become a valued—”

Archer’s mirthless laughter cut off her retort. “Her greatest value lies in breathing.”

One hand caught the end of my wheat blonde braid, snatching my head back as he used my hair like a rope to drag me against him. Hair ripped free of my scalp, making my eyes water as his other hand cinched around my rib cage and squeezed until the tears overflowed onto my cheeks.

I couldn’t breathe through the acute agony of his hold as each caress dug his fingers deeper into bruised and aching flesh. I sank a sharp elbow into his soft gut, but he only pulled harder, rewarding pain with pain.

“So long as her heart beats, her mother’s throne is secure.” The arm banding me tightened as he leaned in, brushing my cheek with his nose before drawing my scent into his lungs. “The queen requires an heir to keep her title.” He shrugged. “In the unfortunate event something happened to her elder sister, Madelyn would enable Eliya to keep her crown. The royal line must be kept established…and fertile.” He hummed gruffly in my ear then shoved me away from him.

Humiliation warmed my cheeks as hatred filled my heart for the man who was father to me by name, but sire to Emma by blood. For a tense moment, I thought he might come at me again, but he didn’t get the chance.

“My lord Archer,” an Evanti slave called from across the courtyard. He broke away from his peers while jogging steadily in our direction. The familiar black-skinned courier wore only a thin scrap of leather around his hips and the great, carmine wings that marked his breed. He advanced until he stood squarely between Archer and me.

A move not lost on my stepfather.