“You wouldn’t dare,” I said. “You know what I am, and we both know what you’re trying to do here.” My hands clenched into fists. “Enough of this. I’m going inside.” I rose to my feet, and stalked toward him. “We both know you won’t hand a God over to your enemies.”
“A God?” He scoffed. “You’re no God now. A God wouldn’t be researching endlessly in the library.”
My heart was pounding, still thinking of what I’d done to Shiviel. Of the child created from breaking his soul. The eighth Guardian. Kane was less now, weakened. But weren’t we all in some way? I’d felt Auriel that day in Ha’Lyrotz, when I made my threat, swore my oath to protect Lyr. But my father always knew too much. And some old worry began to niggle the back of my mind.
And yet, the memories were too strong, the link unweakened even now. Wasn’t the fact that he hadn’t escalated his treatment of Lyr to something more horrid proof of my power?
I glared. “Research? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He tilted his head. “Do you really think I don’t know about every single fucking scroll that was pulled for you?”
“I would think an Imperator has more important things to worry about than one soturion’s reading habits.”
“I know it’s related to her. You wouldn’t be out here,” he pointed to the seraphim, “otherwise.”
“I’m brushing up on my history.” I shrugged. “Seeing as how I was part of it.”
He stepped closer, and without warning, slapped me with such force that I sank to my knees. My hands clenched, but I willed myself still. He couldn’t hurt me. Not if he wanted me to steal the shield, to bring him Ereshya’s shard. I needed to be in top physical condition, and he knew it. But I couldn’t underestimate him either. Just as often as he was ten steps ahead, he’d let his anger get the best of him. His aura was pulled back, his face dangerously neutral. Gods. It was still impossible, even after all these years, to know which version of my father I faced.
“Let’s try this again,” he said. “And think carefully now before you answer. I have your girlfriend’s contract signed in blood. Do you get that? She does what I want. When I want. When I tell her to dance with Kane, she does. And when I tell her to look like she’s in love, to smile and hold hands and kiss his cheek, she does. And you’re lucky that’s all I’ve asked. I could have just as easily let him fuck her. I could have fucked her myself. But I didn’t. Now you tell me what you’re up to, or I may not be so nice in the capital where it truly counts.” His eyebrows narrowed to a V. “You understand that all I have to say to her is ‘get into his bed,’ and she’ll comply. I can tell her to open her legs for him, again and again, and she’ll do it with a whore’s smile. I can tell her to moan for him, and I can tell her to lay there while you watch.”
My fist was flying before I could stop it. But my father dodged. All at once, his soturi moved forward, but he signaled for them to remain still and resume their posts.
“Do you know what the punishment is for striking your Imperator?”
“Do you remember what I said in the dungeons?” I gritted.
My eyes glanced side to side, noting his voice had lowered. His men stood at the edge of the mount, offering privacy. So, he didn’t want them to hear, but still felt the need to make a show of his strength to me.
His lips curled. “Don’t hurt Lyriana? Was that it?”
“I meant what I said. You touch her, you die. And not just once.” And with my words, I could feel that same fire, that same conviction that overpowered me in the cell.
“I’ll take my chances.” He stepped forward, reaching for my throat before I could react. Then his finger was tracing my scar, his nail scratching from my forehead to my cheek, pressing in just enough to hurt but not puncture my skin.
I winced, despite myself.
“You’d do well to be more convincing, Rhyan. You look like you hate Amalthea.” He glared.
“I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “You forget that by looking besotted with your betrothed you protect Lyriana, too. You still have to convince everyone in the Godsdamned Empire you weren’t lovers—because that crime can still have you both stripped and killed.”
“I’m aware,” I said.
“Then let’s not have a repeat in the Palace of what you did the other night. Don’t think for a second I didn’t know where you went off to at your aunt and uncle’s. Or who you sought in the dark of the corridors.”
“Fine. You caught me. Can I go now?”
“You still didn’t answer my question.” His chin twitched. “What were you researching?” He reached into his pocket,and a small black nahashim slithered out. “Tell me the easy way.”
My throat went dry, and I gave up. He’d do it. And it seemed pointless to fight. He knew too much already. Knew I was Auriel, knew Lyr was Asherah, and Kane was Shiviel.
“I’ve been researchingRakashonim.”
The last thing I expected was for my father to laugh. He tipped his head back, and clutched his stomach. Even his guard seemed startled by the sudden shift in his mood.
“Rakashonim?” he chuckled. The sound was cruel.
