Like a mountain of muscle and scales, the beast charged, its claws digging into the stone. I spun to the right and dipped as it rose, thrusting up with the sword with more precision than before. I hit a spot between the scales, and there was little resistance this time. Flesh gave way. Cold, rancid blood spurted into the air, spraying my chest and face.

Gods.

The creature howled, rearing back as its tail scratched against stone and whipped toward me. Cursing, I jerked the blade free and jumped out of the way. I whirled, just as its right head struck. Lifting the heavy sword with a grunt, I spun and sliced down with the blade, aiming for the vulnerable spots between its armored neck scales.

My stomach churned as the blade sank through muscles and tendons. The creature shrieked, and the right head hit the floor, shattering into a puddle of foul blood.

Smirking, I leveled the sword once more and lifted my gaze. “So, which head—?” My mouth dropped open.

Before my eyes, red light streaked out from the stump as the beast thumped its tail. A brand-new head sprouted, mirroring the other two.

“What in the actual fuck?” I growled, frustration crashing into fury.

Anger pounded through me, and I lunged at the beast. It turned quickly, moving faster than I would’ve thought possible, and something Sir Holland had once said when he’d only been a mortal knight training me to fight registered.

“Never let anger best you in battle. It is an act of a fool to use death’s most favored weapon.”

Gods, I was a fool.

Lurching back from at least two pairs of snapping jaws, I realized I’d taken my eyes off the rest of it.

An arm or leg—whatever—shot through the air. The beast seized me in a crushing grip. Bones ground together as it lifted me off my feet. Pain erupted, momentarily stunning me. My hands spasmed reflexively. The sword fell from my grip, clanging off the floor. With a ruthless jerk of its arm, it sent me hurtling through the air.

I slammed into the cavern wall, the contact knocking the air from my lungs. Agony shot down my spine. I hit the floor, rendered prone as a wave of torment crested.

A rider sighed. “Disappointing.”

Sucking in a ragged breath, I rolled onto my side. “Comments are…unnecessary,” I groaned, so done with this.

Shifting onto my knees, I rocked back. I caught sight of the sword lying a few feet in front of the beast. I needed to figure out how to take this thing down and do it quickly. Obviously, the space between the scales was vulnerable, but I’d pierced its chest. That had done nothing. And severing its head? It had simply grown another.

I lifted my gaze and peered through the strands of my hair. The two heads were swaying once more. The middle was still. Our gazes locked. Its eyes glimmered with more than just eather. There was hunger there, but also intelligence.

My gaze shifted to the other two heads. The glow of their eyes wasn’t nearly as brilliant. Was it possible that those heads were more like limbs? If I took the middle one out, would it kill the beast?

I had no idea, but it was a plan—one that didn’t involve getting thrown into walls again.

Rising to my feet, I was surprised to find that most of the pain had already subsided. The beast’s gaze met mine once more.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I rushed forward, dipping to grab the sword. The beast struck with the two side heads. My blade glanced off the scales of the left neck. Seeking to distract it, I spun and brought the blade down on that area. The stench of putrid blood increased. Sweat dotted my brow. Stone clashed against scales as I dodged the creature’s relentless strikes and snapping jaws, dancing closer and closer until I saw spittle dripping from the middle head’s fangs. Breathe in. Two of the heads drew back. Hold.

I lunged, blade arcing. With a swift slice, I cut through the air, the sword’s tip striking the ground. Blood dripped from its length.

I’d found my mark.

The creature reared back, shuddering as it screeched. It stumbled, weaved toward the riders, and then moved away, its shrieks becoming quieter and less monstrous. Red light lit up the beast’s body, following a scattered network of veins.

My breathing quick, I stepped back, torchlight gleaming off the bloodstained sword. The creature’s legs went out from under it as the two remaining heads collapsed in a cascading, pulsing glow.

Lowering the sword, my lips started to curl up, but my smile quickly froze. Whatever triumph I’d begun to feel vanished.

Something was happening to the creature, and it wasn’t death.

The beast was changing, its size shrinking and shifting under the flickering torchlight. Claws turned into hands and feet. Scales disappeared, replaced by flesh. Pants made of some sort of tattered burlap appeared, and…light brown hair. Suddenly, a male was on his hands and knees before me, trembling.

I knew. Dear gods, I knew before he even turned his head and I saw his features. Still, my heart stopped when my eyes locked with his—blue ones set in a face that had once been handsome but was now thin and filled with stark terror.

My stepbrother.

Tavius.

I went still, but my heart beat faster and faster. Unable to even look away, I stared at him, pressure clamping down on my chest.

He inhaled sharply, his entire body spasming. A guttural, wrenching sound came from his parched, cracked lips. His back bowed, body straining. His mouth contorted, stretching wide. Arms trembling, he gagged as something beneath the flesh and fragile bones of his throat moved upward, creating irregular bumps.

A fine tremor coursed through my arm as spittle ran down his chin. Strands of something several inches long that looked like slender, black ropes knotted at the ends fell from his wide mouth, spilling to the floor. He convulsed and continued to heave. His head kicked back, his jaw popped, and that cruel mouth of his gaped grotesquely around a thicker bundle of rope. Something oblong-shaped—solid and hard—pressed against his throat. His shoulders hunched violently as he gagged. His head bobbed—

Whatever it was worked itself free of his mouth, a handle attached to what I now knew were copper-twined leather strips.

A whip landed on the stone with a soft, reverberating thud.

The whip.

The one I could still hear hissing through the air. Still feel cracking against my skin. The one I had shoved down his throat.

Folding his arms across his chest and waist, Tavius rocked onto his knees. His entire body shook, and his head fell back. Saliva and blood-tinged mucus trailed from his mouth. Blood streaked his watery eyes. Our gazes met.

Time stopped.

It sped up.

“Please,” he whimpered.

My reaction was immediate. I didn’t think. I was past that point. I wasn’t in the cavern before the riders. I was in Wayfair’s Great Hall, bound to the stone feet of the Kolis statue as Tavius humiliated me. Hurt me because he harbored within him the same kind of relentless, rotten evil that Kolis had. Attempted to ruin me, not because he truly believed I was a threat to his claim to the throne of Lasania, but because he was a man, and he could.

Dropping the sword, I snapped forward and slammed the heel of my foot into his side. Bones cracked. I could still feel his weight crushing me… The bastard cried out as he fell onto his back, clutching his side, but all I heard was him demanding that I beg with respect. I kicked him again and again. I stomped him, hitting each and every one of those ribs and the shadows between them that were visible beneath his flesh.

That wasn’t enough.

Neither was his death.

Or the revenge I’d already gotten. Falling to my knees over him, I gripped his hair and jerked his head back. I brought my fist down, over and over, cracking and shattering bone, seeing his sneer when he’d thrown that bowl of dates at my face. I saw only the cruel glee he took in tormenting Princess Kayleigh, not split skin and caved-in bone. I kept hitting him—