I folded my arms and lifted my chin. Nothing good ever came from his visits.
He circled me, and it took everything I had to allow him at my back. “You were spectacular. A worthy weapon.”
I swallowed. “Not a weapon, just an acceptance of what I always was.”
“Wrong. You were born with angelic power and the natural forces in your veins.”
“That is my point.”
Icy fingers skimmed my spine, and his breath whispered against my nape. My eyes fluttered closed. It was an illusion. If I turned, I would find distance between us.
“You can feel it,” he growled low. “The black promise, the way I carved my name on your skin.”
Something pressed against my stomach. “I have many scars, Donn, and none of them bear your name.”
He hummed as he came to stand in front of me. His molten silver eyes studied me, and he tilted his head. “You've found your backbone, Cora.”
“What do you want?”
He smiled, a calculated cruel curve of his lips. “You have my power.”
I couldn’t deny it. “Take it back.”
“It’s too late for that.”
“I used it to destroy Eloise. I am no longer a weapon you shaped. I am spent and tired.”
He chuckled. “I was never making a weapon.”
I frowned. Word games with an ancient? Not today. No, thank you.
“In that moment, you chose mercy,” he said with a point at the lilies still unraveling between us.
“I chose justice.”
“Which is a mercy. You let the universe decide.”
I sighed. “As it should be.”
“And that is why it’s chosen you. The question is, will you let it devour you?”
“I don’t understand.”
In a movement faster than I could see, he appeared in front of me, his fingers curling around my chin while he held my gaze. The power inside me rose to the surface. His smile grew. I knew what he was seeing—a reflection of the otherworldly silver.
“I will not be a prisoner to your power,” I stated.
“No, it is I who am the captive. The night consumes my name and takes yours in its place.”
“I have no need of you.” Pieces of what he had done—the oaths, the promises made in blood—snapped together like a lock.
“The throne has always required a mortal soul willing to choose others over itself. Gods cannot sit there. Monsters cannot survive it. Only someone like you.” A hot tear slid down my cheek as denial blocked my throat. “You were never a weapon.”
“Then what?” I knew. Deep down, I already knew, but I still held out hope that I was wrong.
“I was testing my successor.”
The air left my lungs, and I shook my head. “No.”
