“But—”

I narrow my eyes on the guard who spoke and whatever he was going to say dies in his throat. “Take me to him—that’s an order.”

I finger my spare clothes as I follow the guards through the secret service building. My arms shake; they’ve been doing that since I was told the king was extracting information from Will.

The guards glance nervously at one another. “You have my word you will not get in trouble for this,” I promise.

I can tell which interrogation room Montes is in by the cluster of officials standing around it.

A couple of them see me and try to cut me off. “My queen, you can’t—”

“I am fucking tired of hearing I can’t do things today,” I say. “Let me through or I will force my way through.”

One tries to grab me. My fist snaps out, but he blocks it with his forearm. Another closes in, pressing a finger to his ear and speaking in low tones. I know what this is—containment.

“Montes!” I shriek.

Hands are on me, and the guards that led me here are nowhere to be seen. Pansies.

“Let me go,” I snap, yanking at my arms. They won’t release me. My anger spikes; there is nothing so infuriating as being physically helpless against another human being.

The door opens and Montes walks out. “What is going on?” The moment he processes that I’m being detained against my will, his face hardens. “Let the queen go.” His voice is steel.

Hands release me, and I glare at the guards.

“Serenity, what are you doing out of bed?”

“I want to see Will.”

The king’s jaw works. “You can’t.”

There’s that command again. That I can’t. And now I’ve heard it one time too many.

I push past the king and dart for the door he’s come out of. I’ve barely managed to open the door when arms wrap around my midsection and pry me away. But not before I catch a glimpse of the viewing room, and beyond it, the interrogation.

All I see is crimson blood and all I hear are Will’s screams. The outer walls must be thick to silence such agonized cries. The king’s wrath is just as frightening as I’d always feared.

My mouth parts as I’m dragged away. “Oh God.” My words croak out. “Stop,” I whisper.

“Serenity—” The king’s voice comes from behind me. He’s the one restraining me.

“Stop!” I scream.

The king’s hand rubs my skin, as if I am a child needing soothing from a nightmare. “We need information from him,” he says.

“I don’t care.” I’m shaking all over. I’ve seen and done many horrifying things, but it’s this one that undoes me. “This needs to stop.” I’m no longer just talking about Will’s interrogation. I’m talking about war—about being a woman raised on a diet of pain and punishment. Where evil is avenged with more evil. It will never be enough to remedy the world.

The king feels me trembling beneath his hands. “You need to rest.”

“I’ll do whatever you want, Montes, just please, stop torturing him.” A tear leaks out. It’s Will, after all. I might hate what he’s become, but torture … I don’t wish that on my worst enemy.

The king sighs. “If we don’t get information out of him, then your life might still be in danger. I can’t allow that.”

“Montes,” I say, my hands clutching his arms. “Please.”

That vein near his temple throbs, and I’m sure he’s going to say no.

His hold on me drops. “Get the queen out of here.” The king eyes each one of his soldiers. “And I don’t care what threats the queen made to get here, the next time you defy my direct orders—it will be your head.”

He raises an eyebrow at me—the warning is for me as well—then he turns on his heel and re-enters the interrogation room.

“Montes!” I yell after him. The door clicks shut; the bastard ignored me.

I stare at the room as I’m dragged away. My world is completely falling apart.

The walls of this place might be thick, but they don’t muffle everything. I’m halfway down the hall when I hear a bang. My body jumps at the sound, and a tear leaks out.

Gone. Will is gone.

The King

I’m getting too soft. That sentiment is running on repeat as my men drag the Resistance leader’s body out of the interrogation room.

I’ve been the master of strategy and power plays since the beginning of my career. I don’t compromise, ever. Yet here I am, watching the cleanup crew wipe up the boy’s spilled blood. I did as Serenity asked—I put the traitor out of his misery. Thanks to listening to my bloody fucking heart instead of my brain, I threw away the opportunity to learn the locations of dozens of Resistance cells.

Deep in my gut, unease pools. Killing him was a mistake, one I can’t correct. And it’s one I might repeat if I become too compassionate. I rub my mouth.

“Your Majesty,” Henry, the lead investigator, enters the room.

“Hmm?” I glance up at him.

“There’s something you need to see, and it concerns the queen.”

“The Resistance recorded the queen’s interrogation,” Henry explains as he leads me to one of the station’s conference rooms.

That horrible rage that I’ve kept in check since we retrieved Serenity now rears its ugly head once more. That anyone would dare harm my wife. No one crosses me and gets away with it.

“Show me the footage.” I know Henry doesn’t miss the flinty edge to my voice.

Henry grabs a remote control sitting on the conference table and points it at the large screen that dominates one of the walls.

A grainy black and white image of a cinderblock cell flickers on. I lean my knuckles heavily on the desk, and I lean forward. My blood pressure rises as several Resistance members drag an unconscious Serenity into the room and dump her onto a cot.

Henry’s time lapsed the footage so that it fast forwards several hours. During all that time, my wife’s form barely moves. The sight of her looking so fragile does something to me.

The tape slows; several seconds later, Serenity’s eyes open. After taking in the room, she sits up. I only have to wait a minute more before the door to her cell opens and William Kline joins her.

The sound is even grainer than the video, but I can still make out the words. I grit my teeth as William cups my wife’s face. He touches her like he has a right to. Now I doubly regret my decision to end his life.