“Your Majesty,” she said politely, and curtseyed before rushing off to the carriage.
I let Lissa help me into my dress, adding my belt back to my waist. She laced up my sandals, and then pulled my cloak over my shoulders before handing me the crown I’d fashioned for myself. I settled it back on my head. And then for the final piece. My shield. The orange shard of the Valalumir. I strapped it to my arm, barely even aware of its massive weight. And then, fully outfitted, I approached my army. Nearly three dozen of the demons.
“Akadim,” I called out. Their red eyes moved to mine at once, their bodies shifting with a frenetic energy. They’d been forced to be still for too long. “Teka! Teka el ra Maraaka.”
Despite the growls, they obeyed, each one kneeling on the ground. I took them in, seeing the hunger in their eyes, the violent desperation in their faces. Nearly all had fed by the time I found them. But not enough—not enough to satisfy an appetite that had just been born. And almost none had yet to feed on what they truly wanted. Lumerian flesh. Lumerian souls. Lumerian blood. I wasn’t just keeping them from moving, I was keeping them from acting on their instincts.
When I’d found Rhyan, newly changed after sunset, he’d had blood on his chin, dripping from his lips. There was blood and worse caked under his nails. He was rabid. But I could tell he hadn’t killed anyone yet. Just animals.
Eventually, I’d have to let them loose. They’d have to kill. They’d have to feed. It was their nature—and it was the only way to continue growing my army. To get the numbers I needed forwhat was to come. It was a necessary evil, but the only one I’d allow.
Because there was one thing akadim did that mine wouldn’t be doing.
I’d forbidden rape in the Allurian Pass. I’d saved Lissa from such a fate. And I’d save more. For this was a new breed of akadim. Daywalkers. Demons who were able to walk in the sun. They were smaller than the others, but just as strong, just as violent and vicious. With one added trait—they could think logically, they could plan, and they could organize. They could choose not to immediately give in to their baser instincts. And with all the work I had for them to do, all the tasks that must be completed for the war, rape would be far from their minds. Or at least, they’d have little energy left for it. And if my commands were disobeyed they wouldn’t escape my wrath.
“Rise,” I commanded. And my soturi followed, growling under their breath. Their teeth gnashed in agitation, their claws fidgeting at their sides. Their newborn appetites were still ignited, and I could feel it in the air. They were ready to unleash themselves, lose control.
I wasn’t going to let them.
I eyed Rhyan’s red eyes, only shocked for a moment that they were no longer that startling shade of green. He was taller than the others, naturally—he’d been so in life. Bigger, too. Stronger. And I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Already he seemed to have become something of a silent leader amongst his companions. I could see the others looking to him for guidance, looking to see if he had followed my orders. And when he did, they did as well.
He was going to be very, very useful to me; to the war.
“We march for the final leg of our journey,” I said. “We shall meet your king.Maraak Moriel.When we reach the border it will be morning, and you’ll be able to rest. You’ll be able to feed.”
An akadim snapped their teeth, and then another. One howled at the moon, and a shiver ran down my spine. I shouldn’t have mentioned food.
When they all began to howl, their claws snapping at their sides, my heart thundered. A lifetime of fear rushed through me. But I was Ereshya now, their queen. A Valalumir at my side and the power of a Goddess running through my veins. They couldn’t hurt me. Not if they tried. And with just my thought, the shield emitted a blinding orange light. And they stilled, their mouths snapping shut as they tried to avert their gazes. Some even moaned in pain.
But Rhyan remained stoic—even as an akadim. He stepped forward, and lowered his chin in obedience. Like a good boy.
“Let’s go,” I said. “You will follow behind Lord Rhyan. He’s your Arkturion now.”
“Maraaka Ereshya,” he said in that haunting deadly voice he’d acquired. The voice of an akadim. Of a monster. And yet, underlying it, there was the barest hint of a northern lilt.
I narrowed my gaze, and turned around, marching ahead, feeling him and the others behind, their red eyes boring into my back.
Chapter
Four
JULIANNA
Thene’s clock tower struck again. A new hour had begun. I reached for the ring finger on my left hand, feeling for the thin scar that wrapped around the base. It mimicked a piece of jewelry I would never wear. A ring I’d only wanted once, with one person. I circled it, again and again, and I took a deep breath as the bells rang. The sheer sound of the timekeeper shouting the hour was so normal, so mundane. But I’d come to hate them. I hated the reminder that every time I heard them—heard those Godsdamned bells—that another hour of my life had been stolen. Another hour that was no longer mine.
I’d started to track them when I was taken to the Shadow Stronghold after my arrest. I listened carefully those first few hours after my Revelation Ceremony when I was still a prisoner in my own country. I knew my situation was dire, I was imprisoned by the Imperator, the only man who outranked my Uncle Harren, Arkasva and High Lord of Bamaria.
But I’d thought, at least, I’m still on the grounds of my homeland. At least I’m within the borders where I was born. So I’d started bargaining in my mind. Believing that every hour Iremained there was an hour of hope. An hour in which I stood a chance of being freed.
But I wasn’t.
I was taken to Lethea for testing, and then Numeria for torture, and the hours continued to ring and pass and be announced, over and over until they formed days, until they formed weeks, and then months.
Then years.
I traced the scar slowly, circling the raised skin. A wedding ring without a wedding. A ring that wasn’t a ring. A blood oath without the person I’d sworn it to.
But even after all this time, I’d remained true to my promise. Even in those moments when it felt impossible, when I didn’t want to anymore.
