The Savior's Throne

Chapter Twenty Nine

When I wake up, my feet are sliding against the lush green grass, that embody the Eastern Society. Holding onto my hands are two men who accompany Kai, Desmond, and a few other men. Each guard is well-muscled and larger than the average man-definitely Valiants. I lift my head higher and pull my feet up, surprising the men who have a hold on me. I snap my hands away in their moment of shock and run as fast as I can.

Of course, I only make it three steps before being tackled from behind. My head slams on the ground, grass and dirt finding its way into my mouth. I gag and cough and shake away the pain. One of the guards roughly grabs my upper arm and pulls me into a standing position. Now, I'm being marched to the Eastern Society, my hands locked behind me in a Valiant's embrace. The Valiant once belonged to the Northern court under Sahil's rule, but now follows Desmond's orders-just like Kai. My bare feet-somehow I've lost my shoes-scrape along the gravel as we scuffle between dark alleys. My heart pounds in my chest, fearing for its last beat, but I hold my head up and glare at the scene before me.

The Eastern palace is at the center of everything in the society. People still mill around with children on leashes and chains and the anger I felt before is still simmering below the surface.

The walls of the Eastern palace are made from stones and bricks. It's a combination that sounds odd, but looks amazing. The stones create a castle like appearance and the brick tone it down, giving it a homelier feel. Flowers decorate the gardens that surround every inch of land in front of the palace. Green and brown vines crawl their way to the top of the palace, curling around each coned edge.

The sun above washes everything in bright light, giving the palace an ethereal look. Grounds keepers mill at the gardens, keeping everything looking like perfection. Despite my situation, my breath stalls looking at the beauty of it all. Not an inch of land is muddy or dead, it's all alive and blooming. If it weren't for the children on leashes, this would be a wonderful place to reside.

Each time my feet press against the ground, I struggle to push away thoughts of Arlo and Winn. Their bodies slumped, limp on the ground, knocked out by the very man holding my hands now. I squeeze my eyes shut and dig the heels of my feet into the grass.

The man holding me stumbles from my sudden resistance and I rip my arm out of his hold. I whip my arm back and slam my fist into the man's jaw. Pain laces through my hand, but I send another punch to his face. I go to knee him in the stomach, but my hair is violently pulled back.

I grunt from the pain and twist my form, Desmond's grip on me tightens and his fist goes straight to my stomach. My upper body lurches forward and I wheeze uncontrollably. Desmond yanks my head up by the hair and glares at me, "I have four armed men with me, stop fighting."

In a very unqueenly act, I spit at him, landing it right on his face. I sneer at him as he wipes a hand across his face.

"Take her, carry her on your shoulder, I don't want her getting away," Desmond shouts at one of his men. His silver eyes gleam with madness and I scream when his men follow through with their orders.

As the men start walking again, I twist my head and look under the man's arm. We're nearing the south side of the Eastern gates and Desmond order his men to slow down. We eventually make our way to the gate and the man holding me slides down. I glare up at the man who stands well above six feet and kick his shin.

His leg bends from my kick and he turns to look at me. His silver eyes mark him as ungifted and I start to wonder why Desmond didn't bring any gifted along. The man raises his arm, but Desmond speaks up, "Leave her be, start climbing the fence."