The Puppeteer and The Poisoned Pawn (The Pawn and The Puppet series Book 3)

My hand hovers over the door, rethinking if I should wait until I’m in a better headspace.

But it opens before I can decide. Niles widens his eyes, looking me up and down.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks.

I don’t answer. My hand falls back to my side.

“Want to go with me to sneak food and hang out with Ruthie?”

I shake my head. “No. I was hoping to talk to Chekiss.”

Niles opens the door wider. “Oh, come in.” He moves aside so I can enter. “What’re we talking about?”

“Alone, Niles.”

“But—”
“Out, you little pest,” Chekiss says from the corner of the room, sifting through a spread of books.

Niles rolls his eyes. “Gladly.”

And we’re alone. The room crackles and sparks from the roaring fireplace, filling my nose with the scent of burning wood and rosemary.

Chekiss looks up at me from under a new set of bifocals. “Come here, child.”

My chest rises and falls with each step toward his upholstered chair. Anxiety clutching at my throat. I haven’t had a chance alone with Chekiss in a while, and I need this. He’s the closest thing I’ve felt to a father in so long. The need to seek out his comfort has been an endless weight on my shoulders.

I stand in front of his chair, holding myself together.

He looks up at me, closing his book and setting it among the rest. His cheeks are sprinkled with raised freckles, his moss-green eyes look more awake and alive than I have ever seen them, and his brown skin radiates in the orange glow of the fire.

I missed him so much.

“Chekiss?”

He waves his hand for me to kneel at his side. I drop down beside him, reaching my hands out for him to hold.

“Talk to me,” he says, voice as scratchy and rough as ever.

I let out a weak sigh. “I’m having a hard time.”

“With finding out who Aurick is?”

I nod. “And the fact that Dessin and Kane have been lying to me about it.”

“Ah,” he says quietly, thinking on it. “Did they tell you why they had to keep it a secret?”

I shake my head.

“Does he normally have good reasoning for what he does?”

“Yes. But I can’t think of any reasonable explanation for that. Aurick assaulted me when I lived with him. He hit me and Dessin knew.” I look into Chekiss’s surprised eyes, and my voice breaks. “He knew.”

I drop my face to rest on Chekiss’s lap, holding in my need to scream or throw something. And it’s a feeling I might never be able to replace. He just runs a hand through my hair, shushing me, telling me it’ll be okay, it’ll always be okay.

How could a man that was brutally tortured for so many years of his life be this kind? This understanding? This compassionate?

“I don’t know what to do,” I tell him.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“Dessin will never tell me the truth until it’s the right time in his grand plan.”

Chekiss sighs. “I wish I had better advice, my child. If only we could be a fly on the wall to learn what Dessin and Aurick know.”

My shoulders tense with a new idea tightening my muscles. If Dessin won’t tell me what I need to know, then I guess he’s not the man I need to talk to.

I close my eyes, not wanting to leave the comfort of Chekiss’s warmth and calming presence. This is exactly what I needed. To be held by someone who unconditionally loves me.

“Maybe I will talk to him.” Only, it’s not Dessin I’ll have another conversation with.

It’s Aurick.

Surprisingly, Aurick’s door isn’t locked. It’s the large oak one at the end of the hall. I suppose he stays here when he isn’t manipulating young women into staying in his lavish estate.

I open it, not caring if I walk in on him while he’s indecent. Not caring if he’ll be angry I’m invading his space. And the worst part is, this act of seeing him in his bedroom is familiar. Normal for me. I hate it.

Aurick is standing in front of his fire, staring blankly. Hands in his pockets. Wearing night pants and no shirt.

I slam the door shut.

He flinches, turning to face me like he’s about to scold a soldier for forgetting to knock, until realization spreads over his sharp features. His mouth closes.

“Aurick,” I greet him with cold venom coating my tongue.

He dips his head. “Skylenna.”

I walk over to his couch, my bare feet sinking into the soft carpet. With one last glance in his direction, I lower myself, nodding to the space next to me.

“You owe me answers.” Despite how breakable I feel, my voice sounds strong, fierce, nearly destructive.

“Without Dessin,” he clarifies, dropping down to the leather couch. “You wanted me to answer without Dessin in the room.”

I shrug. “He’s been just as secretive and duplicitous as you.”

Aurick’s expression changes, a flash of guilt, a brief furrowed brow, darkened gaze. But it vanishes, replaced with cool indifference. He scratches his head. “Yeah. I can’t figure that out either. I know why I lied. I know why I needed to betray your trust. But I still can’t figure out why he didn’t tell you who I was. I was so sure once he learned of my association with you, my cover would be blown.”

I blink at him, studying his body language, searching for any signs of deception. But he seems genuine. I know I can’t trust anything he says, but he has a point. Why wouldn’t Dessin blow his cover? How could this have been part of his plan?
“I’m not here to talk about him,” I grit.

“No?”

“No. I need you to tell me everything. Why did you use me? Why did you lure me in? Why did you—hit me?”

Aurick cringes at the last part. “I think it’s rather self-explanatory,” he says casually. “I needed someone to spy on him for me. Dessin found a loophole in the system.”

I shake my head. “But why me?”

“We learned that Dessin saved you from—an accident—when he was nineteen. He had a few escapes when he was growing up that evaded my father’s attention. But this one he caught.”

They found out I was his weakness.

“My father wasn’t sure if it was a random coincidence that he saved you. But when he pulled you out of that burning house, it was confirmed.”

I cross my arms. “So, your father was the one running operations? He was the one experimenting on Dessin?”

Aurick shifts in his seat uncomfortably. “Yes. The project was passed down to me when he died a few months ago.”

A few months? “After he learned of Dessin saving me from the fire?”

He nods. “Mm-Hmm. I have wondered if he was the one that offed my father. I can’t say I’d blame him, Vlademur Demechnef ruined his life. Killed his family. Tortured him for years. But he was terminally ill for years. I don’t think that’s Dessin’s style.”

“So you just recently inherited”—I wave my hands around the room—“all of this?”

“Yes.”

I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.

“And you really didn’t know that Masten was a Vexamen spy?”

He scoffs, rolling his neck. “I’m ashamed to say I had no idea.”

“Then that part wasn’t a lie. Your fiancé really did die. And—did your father really hurt her?” I know it’s probably rude to ask. But he used me like a pawn on his war board. I can ask whatever the hell I want.

“Yes.” He stiffens, looking at the fireplace with hollow fixation.

“And you thought if I was Dessin’s weakness then you could use me to lure him out.”

He nods his head slowly, lids drooping, like he’d rather talk about anything else.

“But why? You don’t exactly sound fond of your father or of his methods. Why continue his work?”

Aurick’s fingers dig into the leather arm of the couch. “I wasn’t going to. My fiancé was the heir of the Blackforth line. Remember when I told you about the founders? Orin Blackforth and Abraham Demechnef? We were supposed to inherit this together. We wanted to stop the experimentations.” He takes a steadying breath. “But—before we could wed, someone blew her up. We had a secret getaway, a cottage in the Bear Traps. And I knew it was Vexamen. I just didn’t know he was living under my roof.” A mask of trembling rage fills his expression. “We can’t find him anywhere. Maybe he was tipped off that his cover was going to be blown and fled.”

“And it made you want to create the perfect soldier to end the war. Out of vengeance.”

“That’s right.”

“You wanted to keep ruining lives because yours was ruined.”

“Is there a question in there?” he bites.

“Why does there even have to be a war? Why can’t you let this go and make an effort for a peace treaty with Vexamen?” I ask.

Aurick turns to me with wide, hateful blue eyes. “Peace? Could you let this go if you lost the love of your life? Your soul mate?” His eyes are an avalanche, burying me in his grief. “Besides, do you even know what’s going on over there? Have you heard of the meat carnivals? What about how they rip babies from their mother’s breasts? Raise them to never know empathy, make them take their parents as pets to break them. They are literally breeding children to be the deadliest army in the world. The Vexamen Breed.”

I gulp. No, I didn’t know that. I only just learned about the meat carnival.

“I only have to ruin one life. The most skilled, genius warrior in the world who can end the war by outsmarting any army, any government, and world leader. I’ll do it. To save the lives of thousands of children. To end the meat carnivals. To avenge my soul mate.”

I think about this. In a twisted way, I can see how this logic makes sense to him.

“But why him? Why out of all the people in this country did it have to be him?”

Aurick blinks at me in disbelief. “He hasn’t told you that either? Really?”

I ball my hands into fists. Shake my head.

“Huh.” He eyes me suspiciously, like there’s no way I can’t already know this. “Well, it has to do with his birth. That’s all I can really say about it.”

“Of course it is.” Why would he tell me anything that Dessin won’t?

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking about something that makes him rub his eyes with his left hand. “Skylenna?”

I look to him warily.

“What does Vexamen have that’s so important to Dessin?”

“If he won’t tell you, then you know I can’t.”

“Whatever it is, I can’t use it against him. In exchange for Masten’s name and evidence that he was a traitor, I can’t do anything to him that he would consider a breach of the treaty.”

I sigh. Why should I give Dessin the respect of keeping his secrets now?

“If I tell you, will you answer one last question with complete honesty?” I ask.

He narrows his eyes into small slits. “Depends on the question.”

“Was it ever real for you? Our friendship? Did you—did you ever feel remorse for tricking me? For attacking me?”

He holds my gaze for a long moment, a little caught off guard that I asked. One hand runs through his slick black hair. “Despite my efforts to remain indifferent and keep myself from getting attached, it was real for me. And I’ll never forgive myself for striking you. I apologize, I do. But I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness either… not that you’d ever give it.” He leans forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Red would never forgive me for that man I’ve become in her absence.”

I take a few deep breaths, remembering the shooting pain of his knuckles blasting across my cheek. The terror I felt watching him lose control.

“DaiSzek,” I say quietly. “We are close with the last RottWeilen in existence. And they took him. That’s who we’re trying to get back.”

I rise from my seat, exiting the room with both a little relief and guilt that I shared one of Dessin’s weaknesses with the leader of Demechnef.

I think Dessin is asleep when I crawl into bed next to him.

I’m twisted in a painful knot of guilt for telling Aurick this secret, and anger because apparently Aurick was surprised about the details Dessin still has yet to share with me.

As I slip under the blankets, my cold toes touch his warm leg, and he shifts, rolling onto his side.

“Skylenna.” A tenderness to his tone, a sweet husky whisper that I know must belong to Kane. I tuck myself under the blankets, pretending like I didn’t hear him.

“You don’t have to talk or even acknowledge me, but there’s something I have to say. I hope you’ll listen.”

I swallow, closing my eyes, wishing I could will myself to fall into a deep sleep. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say.

“We’re going to rescue DaiSzek tomorrow. But before we do, I needed to tell you that”—he takes a breath—“we have no intention of ever answering your questions, telling you how we know what we know, or filling in the blank spaces of your memory.”

My eyes shoot open. Is he joking?

“We want you to figure it out yourself. I know you don’t know how to do that right now, but I promise you will. You’ll learn how we met, the history we share, the reason we did all of this. And when you do, please know how sorry I am. I didn’t want to plan it this way. I didn’t want to keep you in the dark. It wasn’t my choice.”

He sighs, running his fingers through my hair. My heart dips at his touch, and I shut my eyes, not wanting to like it.

“But I’m the one who will live with that choice until my last breath.”

Kane leans over me, then places a long kiss against my temple. My nose is reluctantly filled with his sweet scent of cedar. I want to lean into him, turn my face and bury it in his warm, solid chest.

“You have to go back and figure it out yourself,” he whispers in my ear. “You have to be brave. And please, please… remember me.”

We eat breakfast in silence. Six of us dressed in tight, yet breathable hiking attire. Forest-green fabric to blend in. Ruth and I have matching ponytails, pulled high and tight on top of our heads.

We exchange glances between bites, silently acknowledging the building tension.

I just need to get DaiSzek back. Then, maybe, I can figure out how to move forward with Kane and Dessin. But I can’t sift through my feelings, can’t offer any solutions on how to heal or understand what’s happening. All that matters is saving DaiSzek, keeping him away from the meat carnivals.

“Chekiss is staying here,” Dessin announces, looking down at his food. “The rest of us will move out with a unit of twenty-five men in an hour.”

I look back at Chekiss, who is holding a hand up to me, stopping my words before I let them out. “It’s okay. I’ll only slow you down.”

“Only twenty-five men? Shouldn’t we bring an entire army?” Niles drops his fork with a loud clank.

Dessin shakes his head. “No. We need to sneak up on them without setting off any of their traps. I can’t do that with an entire army at my back.”

It makes sense. He works best alone.

“You’re actually letting me and Niles come with?” Ruth asks skeptically.

It is odd. We’ve only just started training. And the only reason he’s letting me come along is because I’m not giving him another option. But why Niles and Ruth?

Dessin is quiet for a moment. “Consider this another form of training. You’ll stay out of the way and do exactly what Warrose or I tell you. No going rogue,”—he shoots me a glare—“or improvising. You’re there to watch. To witness how special operations are done. That’s all.”

He did say he wanted them to be a part of this. He won’t always be here to protect us. I can understand the weight he carries for that. At least this way he’s preparing us the best way he knows how.

The group nods in agreement. But Warrose remains quiet, moving his food around with his fork. Before I can ask him if he’s okay, the dining hall door opens, scraping against the hardwood floors.

Aurick and three of his personal guards walk in. The chatter in the room goes quiet, tapering out to hushed conversation and whispers.

Dessin doesn’t even look up from his meal as they approach us.

“The unit is ready whenever you are.” Aurick nods to Dessin.

But Dessin does not look up. Does not acknowledge his existence.

Aurick clears his throat, running a hand over his black suit. “I hope you’ll remember this when I need something from you.”

Still, no answer. My stomach twists at the blatant awkwardness piling in the center of our group.

“That I was willing to send twenty-five of my best men, risk starting an early open fire with Vexamen—all for a fucking dog.”

My heart falls through my stomach, dropping to my feet with a painful thud. The table gasps, stiffens, and worse—Dessin finally raises his head, not to look at Aurick, but to stare at me in utter disbelief.

He must have known I went to Aurick’s room last night. But he never would have guessed that I would tell him this. And the guilt is so pathetically written all over my face.

I drop my hands into my lap, wringing out a dry napkin. I could kill Aurick right here, right now, for doing this to me. But then again, I never told him not to mention it.

Dessin’s dark, cloudy eyes slide to Aurick. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

My palms are sweaty, my chest tingling with burning embarrassment and remorse. It doesn’t matter that Dessin and I are in a rough spot right now. It doesn’t matter that I’m mad at him. He’s done so much to protect and keep us safe. And I gave Aurick his final weakness on a silver platter.

I put DaiSzek’s life at risk.

I’m ashamed and gutted. How could I be so thoughtless? What have I done? It wasn’t until I saw the look on Dessin’s face, the shock and disbelief, that I realized the weight of my action.

I betrayed him right back.

“Wait.” The man behind Aurick steps forward, an offended expression warming his freckled cheeks. “We’re doing all of this for a pet?”

I bristle at the word.

“He’s not a pet,” Dessin says in calm indignation.

“What?” The man laughs, looking around the room like he’s shocked no one else is outraged. “You just thought because you’re an asset to Demechnef, you can command an entire army to save a furry friend? That’s fucking asinine!”

Dessin clenches his silverware in one hand, and I know that he’s trying not to let his temper get the best of him.

But I am. The fury I’ve felt the last few days is boiling under my skin, capturing my heart in a choke hold. I can barely breathe.

I turn in my seat. “That’s enough.”

The redheaded man with a face full of freckles grins at me. “Oh,” he says in amusement. “A woman’s calling the shots now? Is that why we’re risking our lives? Because she heard about the meat carnivals?”

“Dex,” Aurick warns, glancing over at Dessin to see if he’s about to lose it.

Dessin’s chest rises and falls, as if he’s debating on whether or not killing this man is worth it. As if he has so much on his mind he doesn’t know if he should waste his energy.

But the phrase meat carnival digs under my skin, sizzles like acid has been injected into my blood. “Yes,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “I did hear about the meat carnivals.”

Dex raises his light-red eyebrows in mocking surprise.

“Is that right? Did you hear about the way they string them up like puppets on a stage?”

Every muscle in my body hardens, shaking with a foreign wrath. I’m not seeing my peripherals anymore. They’re clouded from angry tears gathering like a flash flood. My nails dig into the side of the dining table as I stand, holding myself up.

I can sense the storm brewing behind me. Sense that Dessin is two seconds from becoming a plague on this room, wiping everyone away with his hatred and uncontrollable temper.

“We hear they do unspeakable things while the audience cheers.”

“I’m warning you.” A growl. Not a calm request. But a shaking, garbled threat. My voice unstable under the painful fire of my boiling vexation.

Dex laughs, but the man next to him snaps. “Stand down, man.”

“If you think for a goddamned second I’m going to listen to a stupid woman and save some wild beast that’ll be skinned alive—”

Dessin stands. But I explode.

My hand snatches my steak knife, and my arm moves in a blur, a thrust of agonizing hatred. Before I can process my own actions, I scream, lurching forward like a mountain cat.

And it’s too unexpected for anyone to stop me, to block my advance. I’m a hissing, shrieking, unhinged banshee of a woman.

And my knife goes straight into his jugular.

The skin makes a wet ripping sound, followed by a crimson gush of hot, steaming blood. Tears spring from my eyes like a fountain, drenching my cheeks, chin, and neck. And I don’t stop, not for a second to assess the damage. All I can see is DaiSzek strung up like a puppet, skinned alive, beaten, tortured, whimpering like a puppy as people laugh. I see red. Images of seeing Aurick, of Dessin’s face as I put the pieces together. It all erupts out of me like my body has been aching to set it free.

To unleash my villain.

Become my monster.

The knife is plunged into his neck several more times before someone pulls me off of the man. A pair of iron arms wrap around my waist, hauling me to the floor.

Through my tears, I expect to see Dessin. But Warrose pins me under his weight, staring down at me with bloodshot hazel eyes, disturbed, shocked, jaw-dropping panic. His big hands cut off the circulation of my arms, and even though his dark hair hangs around us, I see the smeared blood over his neck and chest from where he grabbed me.

My hand unclenches from around the knife.

A breeze in the room wafts over me as people rush to Dex’s side. There’s blood all over me. I can feel it sprinkled over my face, on my hair, in my mouth.

Holy shit.

“Get him to the infirmary, now!” Aurick barks at the group of men.

Warrose shifts over me, and I become aware that I’m shaking violently, like a catastrophic earthquake, like a bomb that ripped through the world’s core.

“Stay down,” he says quietly.

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. The adrenaline is passing, leaving me in a state of paralyzation. I’m numb, hollow, and worst of all… I’m not remorseful.

It takes me a moment to realize I don’t hear Dessin. I would have thought he would be the one to pull me off of the man. My eyes dart around without moving my head. Men carry Dex on their shoulders, rushing him to get medical attention, but when I look to my left, Dessin stands over me, lips parted, eyes unblinking like a stunned warrior angel.