BLOOD OF THE LAST KINGDOM

Chapter 2: The Price of Refusal

"You were dead," Gad said again, like repeating it might change the answer.

"I let everyone believe that." Doran picked the wine back up, finally drinking. "It was easier than the truth."

"Why fall back? Solenne was holding the eastern wall. We had it."

"You had it for another hour. Maybe two." Doran's voice stayed even. "The kingdom was already lost. I made a choice that night. You can hate me for it. You don't get to pretend it changed the outcome."

Gad's hands curled into fists at his sides. The current from the pit hadn't fully faded.

He could still feel it beneath his skin, waiting. "Men died holding that wall believing you were beside them."

"Men died either way." Doran set the glass down harder than before. "I didn't come here to relive it. I came here because of what you did in that pit, and I need to know if it happens again."

"Why does it matter to you?"

Doran didn't answer directly. Instead, he moved toward the door and called for Rennick, who stepped in immediately, like he'd been waiting just outside.

"Bring the medic," Doran said. "The one who tended him after the fight."

Gad's stomach rumbled. "Leave her out of this."

"I need to test something."

Mira was brought in within minutes, guards flanking her on either side though she hadn't resisted.

Her eyes went straight to Gad, searching his face for an explanation he didn't have.

"She's done nothing," Gad said.

"I'm aware." Doran circled Mira slowly, the way a man inspects livestock. "Gad, strike her."

The room went cold.

"No."

"That wasn't a request."

"I said no."

Doran's expression didn't change, but something happened in the way he looked. "You refuse a direct order in front of witnesses. Do you understand what that means for you? For her?"

"I understand exactly what it means." Gad stepped between Doran and Mira without thinking, putting his body in the line of whatever came next. "I won't do it."

"Interesting." Doran nodded slowly, almost to himself, like he'd expected this and needed confirmation. "Rennick."

Rennick's hand went to the whip at his belt, hesitating for half a second longer than a soldier should. "My lord—"

"She disobeyed a lawful command by refusing to step forward earlier this week. Ten lashes. Gad will watch."

"You're punishing her for something I did," Gad said.

"I'm testing a theory." Doran's voice stayed calm. "Proceed."

Rennick moved Mira toward the wall, and she didn't fight it, jaw set, eyes locked somewhere past Gad's shoulder.

The first c***k of the whip split the air, and Mira's body jerked forward, a sound escaping her throat that she clearly tried to swallow.

Gad's vision narrowed.

The second lash came down, and this time Gad moved before he decided to, closing the distance between and putting himself in the middle of Rennick and Mira, taking the third strike on his own back instead.

Pain surged through him, sharp and immediate, and then the current returned, faster than before, hotter, spreading from the wound outward like it was feeding on the injury itself.

"Gad—" Mira's voice, somewhere behind him, urgently.

Rennick froze mid-swing, staring at Gad's back, where the skin beneath the torn fabric had stopped bleeding almost as quickly as it split.

"Enough," Doran said sharply, stepping forward now, real alarm breaking through his composure for the first time. "Stop. Now."

Rennick lowered the whip immediately.

Gad turned, breathing hard, hands shaking with whatever was moving through him.

He could feel it building, pressure behind his ribs like something trying to get out.

"Get back," Doran said, not to Gad, but to the guard standing nearest him.

The guard didn't move fast enough.

Gad's arm shot out on instinct, not even fully aimed, and the guard was thrown backward into the stone wall hard enough to c***k the mortar behind him, sliding down unconscious before he hit the floor.

The room went very quiet.

Mira stared at Gad like she didn't recognize him.

Rennick's hand hovered near his sword, uncertain whether drawing it would help or make things worse.

Doran hadn't moved, watching Gad with an expression caught somewhere between fear and something closer to recognition.

"Lock down the household," Doran said finally, voice loud. "No one enters or leaves until I say otherwise."

Rennick hesitated. "My lord, if word gets out that a slave—"

"I said now."

Rennick left immediately, dragging the unconscious guard with him, leaving Gad, Mira, and Doran alone in the study.

Gad forced his hands to stop shaking, staring at Doran. "What is happening to me?"

Doran didn't answer right away. He walked back to his desk, poured another glass of wine he didn't drink, and finally looked up.

"You want the truth?"

"I want you to stop deciding what I'm allowed to know."

Doran's lips twitched. For a long moment, it looked like he might actually say it, whatever it was he'd been circling since Gad first walked into the room.

"That power isn't yours," Doran said instead. "Not really."

"Then whose is it?"

Doran's eyes flicked to Mira, then back to Gad, and his expression showed, warning other than authority.

"Something made a deal the night Solenne fell," Doran said. "I didn't just give the order to retreat. I traded for it. And whatever's waking up inside you right now isn't a gift I gave you."

"Then what is it?"

Doran set the glass down, untouched again.

"It's collecting," he said. "And it started with me. Now it's moved on to you. And it doesn't stop until someone pays what I owe it.”