He shook his head. “I was aware of them but never allowed to enter.”
Static danced across my fingers, causing several of the Ascended to shift back a step. Except for the silent one. His brows rose, and his alabaster face was marked with curiosity. “Is it possible the tombs are still…occupied?”
“Not after the last Rite,” Mira said. I barely breathed around the throbbing in the center of my chest. “We were not involved in it but…heard what occurred.”
I already knew, but I needed to hear it. “What did you hear?”
“Apparently, orders were given to…fill the tithes with crimson,” Mira said, her voice thin and strained.
The breath I took burned its way into my lungs, and I took a nearly involuntary step back.
“The stockpiles,” Casteel bit out. “That’s how they were able to hoard so much blood?”
Mira’s gaze lowered as she nodded.
“We only heard about it after it was done,” Helenea said, speaking for the first time since we’d entered. She swallowed thickly. “The stockpiles consisted of more than just Atlantian blood. It was also taken from the third sons—” Her voice caught as her sharp, icy sorrow pierced my shields. “And daughters.”
“All of them?” I asked. She nodded. “Was one of them your sibling?”
“Yes.” Helenea’s shoulders stiffened, but her lips quivered. “My sister.”
The essence tightened in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
She lowered her gaze. “Thank you.”
“What about your second-born sister?” Casteel asked.
“She Ascended,” Helenea said. That was all she said.
I assumed she wasn’t here, or she would’ve been introduced as such. “Who gave the order? The Blood Queen?”
“No. The Hawleys,” Wesley forced out through a tight jaw. “Lord Edmund and Lady Laural Hawley did. They were close to the former Queen and often handled portions of the Rites.”
My fingers twitched. “Are they still among us?”
Casteel’s nostrils flared. “They are.”
“It’s a damn shame they still breathe this air,” Wesley muttered.
“Are you familiar with them?” I asked Casteel.
Anger radiated from him in icy waves. “They have requested an audience multiple times.”
“They will be getting that audience shortly,” I said, returning my gaze to Wesley. “And they will not be breathing this air for much longer.”
One side of the Ascended’s lips curled up. “Then I must thank you again.”
“Wesley once served in their home,” Malik explained.
That was all I needed to hear to understand Wesley’s comments.
“You said you did not partake in the last Rite,” Casteel said, his gaze narrowing on Mira. “I was under the impression it was required.”
“It is, but we did not attend,” she answered, her chin lifting. “We will never step foot in that Temple—or any of the Temples—again.”
“Really?” Casteel’s tone was as dry as my throat.
“Yes,” she answered. “The Temple does not spark memories of joy. Only terror and disgust.”
