Aziel let out a chuckle of his own. “I’ve come to learn that people are more tolerant of scars than they are of an ugly face.” He stated blandly. “There’s no hope for you, friend.”
The guard cried out, driving the knife into Aziel’s neck. Blood was spilling over his shoulders, soaking his clothing until it felt as if it were plastering to his skin.They continued their torture as Camalia watched from the dais. Wound by wound, Aziel’s roots began to weaken more. Thankfully, they still could not leave. Even with Trio subdued, his shadows held strong, keeping the doors sealed tight.
A painful wall of Camalia's power came over him, bending his body until he was on his hands and knees. It was only then that she approached, moving languidly around the guards to peer down at him. "In doing research about classes of power, I learned something, Aziel. While gods may be some of the strongest creatures in the universe, they are only the smallest fraction stronger than the highest form of witch. All I needed to do was find your weakness. And do you know what your weakness is?"
He'd never really pondered on it, but he could take a wild guess and assume it had something to do with why he felt like he wanted to rip his skin clean off his body. "Lack of autonomy?" He offered weakly.
Camalia smiled a terrifying grin that rippled and twitched across her face. "Lack ofcontrol, in general. Without your control, you are nothing. You use death as a weapon to get your way. You manipulate everything, bend things to work in your favor. You even tried it with Nymiria, didn't you?"
In the beginning, he had. He'd tried scheming and using his manipulation skills to control the outcome of their situation. But he'd soon learned that Nymiria could read him like a damn book and there was no use in trying. He also fell in love with her. And doing that to people he loved and cared for, who did not deserve it, went against his own moral code. Control, sure, it was something he needed. He'd spent too many days of his life under the control of other people tonothave a desire for it.
"What are you without your title, Aziel?" When he didn't respond to her question, Camalia knelt in front of him, using her sharp nails to move his chin upwards, forcing him to face her. "You are just that same, sad boy with no control who wandered into my bed all those years ago."
The doors to the throne room burst apart with a deafeningboom, splintered wood flying in every direction as Nymiria strode through the falling rubble. He knew it was her by her smell—that warm scent of wild flowers and sunsets, like wisteria and honeysuckle that grew along the cusps of the forest.
Bound and bent by horrible power, he had just enough strength in him to look up at her. She was blurry due to the sweat and blood dripping into his eyes, but he could faintly make out her silhouette. And even that was beautiful.
"Let. Him. Go." Nymiria snarled. Quicker than Camalia could react, The Goddess of Life sent one of her sharp-pointed vines in the queen's direction, knocking her hand away from Aziel's face. She came to a halt in the center of the room, her powerful aura filling every corner, commanding every eye to fall on her. "You will not touch him."
Chapter 36
Aziel was the first thing she saw when she walked into the throne room. The second thing she saw was Dorid, his body laying in a crimson puddle of his own blood, his cock beside his limp and nearly lifeless form. While she wanted nothing more than to finish the job and snatch his life from his worthless body, she felt it best to just let him suffer. Even if he lived, his current state would be a constant reminder of the evil he unleashed upon the world, and the consequences that followed.
The third thing she saw was the slight glimmer of fear in Camalia's eyes when their gazes finally met.
"And what will you do if I touch him, darling?" Camalia laughed. "Kill me?"
Nymiria stared straight ahead, watching as the queen rose to her feet, leaving Aziel to her guards. One guard raised a single hand, preparing to strike the crumpled body on the floor, but with a wave of rage, Nymiria released another vine. And another. And another until all of the guards were left with gaping holes through the center of their chests, their hearts spurting blood mere feet away from their lifeless corpses. It was enough of a distraction for Camalia to release her hold on Aziel.
Her magic fell away from him, a moan of discomfort sounding from his chest as he collapsed onto the marbled tile.
The queen eyed her guards, brows drawn together, before turning her gaze back to the young goddess. “I expected something more from you. Why is itthat the most powerful women I meet are terrified of their own greatness?” She sounded thoughtful, her index finger tapping against her chin as Nymiria took another step forward. “You could have been something wonderful, Nymiria, but that pathetic little heart of yours just wouldn’t let you. And that is your greatest weakness, my love—that you allowed everyone to convince you that you were what youshowed them. You showed them a pretty portrait of a woman who was nothing more than a hole to fill and a body to desecrate. You showed them someone who was pitiful and undeserving of respect. All of this, all of your pain, it is because of whatyouallowed.”
Nymiria shook her head. A month ago, she would have believed it. She would have heard those words and they would have resonated with the hurt child that still lived inside of her, that still prayed to a dying god for deliverance. But it was never true. It was the furthest thing from the truth.
The anger had always been there, weeding its way into her core, over the course of her life. It started with a mother that despised her, continued in the hands of the people who were supposed to protect her but betrayed her, and kept growing and growing as she lived her life at Dorid’s side. She took his beatings. She took his demeaning comments and snide remarks, his backhanded compliments that made her want to rip off her skin.
It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t deserved. And she hadn’t allowed that treatment, she hadsurvivedit.
“You don’t think that I wanted to be something great?” Nymiria angled her chin higher, drawing her shoulders back as she stared Camalia in the face. Perhaps she was once too scared to protect herself. But there wasn’t a single moment in all of these years locked in her torment that she hadn’t dreamed of revenge. “ You don’t think that I wanted to be held to a higher standard or shown a single ounce of respect? I wanted it. Iached for it. Every single time any of these bastards looked at me with an ounce of desire, repulsion, or disdain, I wanted to give them a reason tofear me. I don’t want them lapping at my feet like dogs, I want them drowning in their own fucking blood.”
The corner of Aziel’s mouth raised into a smirk, the darkened veins that spread across his skin seemed to pulse with excitement at the darkness of her words, the bone-chilling promise hidden between syllables. Palming thick blood from his eyes, he lifted his sword with a pained grunt, using every ounce of strength he had to stagger to his feet. When he saw Nymiria surrounded by vines that were outstretched and lashing through the air like a set of thorned wings, he released a laugh that was heard through the now-silent throne room. He knew that it would be beautiful, but to see her in her true godly form, the sheer joy that filled him was hard to contain.
Camalia's eyes were like daggers as she backed herself back onto the dais, as if the height could protect her from the inevitable. She knew she was going to die today. There was no way she could look between the two gods before her and think she could survive this—not when she'd been the one in control of their torment for over a decade.
Nymiria watched Aziel slowly drag himself across the floor, to the wall where Trio's unconscious body was propped. He began shaking his companion, urging him to get up. She lowered her gaze, chest aching when she realized his gloves were missing. Just one look at Aziel’s scarred hands, just remembering how they trembled when he first showed them to her…
No.All of hermercywas gone. She did not need the warm blanket of Aziel’s comfort to wash away her guilt, for there was none left.
She walked closer to the Queen, her footsteps echoing through the chamber like an ominous beat of a drum. Camalia assessed her with narrowed eyes and while she did not show fear at all, the subjects of Yaar certainly did. Nearly all of them were chanting prayers to the new gods—the false gods that the Yaarborough family had created to make everyone believe that their evil was not truly evil, that their crimes against other living things were actions to be admired, rather than consequential.
They prayed with all of their might, hands clasped together and tears streaking their faces. Even when the embodiment of Life stood before them, they saw heras a devil. As a demon to be feared.She was no demon, but they had a right to be scared.
“Your gods are dead.” Nymiria sneered, vines whipping through the air at the crowd. In the confines that Aziel had created, they could do nothing but scream and cry. “They sent me in their wake.”
Camalia grinned at her, even as Nymiria stepped onto the dais and was steadily approaching, that evil smile of hers did not falter. It was merely as if she were watching some grand performance, like this was all part of a show she’d orchestrated all on her own.
Nymiria did not want to give her the satisfaction. She understood what that smile meant, that Camalia believed herself to be untouchable. That Nymiria did not have the heart to drive her dagger through the queen’s chest and end her life right on that precious little throne of hers.
