Yes.
“Yes. I am.” I say it without emotion or attachment to the murder I so quickly committed.
It’s a heartless admission, but it isn’t something I can try to understand. A beast that’s hidden away within myself my entire life made a thrashing appearance last night.
It someone died because of it.
And now, there will be hell to pay indeed.
Zilo leads me to the center of the arena. Ash puffs up around each heavy step. With my peers leering at me on all sides. A few hell fae nearest me beneath the arch ways hold their mouths tight with grinding jaws, while others can’t contain the hisses that slither across their lips as they reveal the pointed teeth within.
I look up at a set of box seats just a few yards above the ground. Slitted eyes look down upon me.
There sits our queen.
Her long legs are crossed delicately beneath a sheer black gown. Her inky eyes eat me up from where I stand so far beneath her.
To my surprise, another figure stands tall at her side.
She too looks down at me like I might be smote beneath her big brown eyes.
“Nyra,” I whisper with the last breath I can keep in my lungs.
Her cheeks are red, and her features are puffy. Even from here, I can see how damp her gaze is. Vanitee stands at her side and her gaze, like my sister’s, is filled with unshed tears. It’s the softest I’ve ever seen the Queen’s daughter look.
They’re both heartbroken.
Because of me.
Oh no.
“The account of last night’s painful loss presents a very strange occurrence,” Creatchin says rather casually.
Her smooth voice echoes around the fighting arena so subtly that it strikes something within me...
She sounds just as unattached as I do.
I look up at the regal woman once more.
She’s as poised as ever. Unlike me, she doesn’t seem empty or confused. Long black hair pours down her slender back with precise beauty. A crown of branches and ornate gold halo her hair. Her features are as flawless as ever. A smile carves her lips faintly at the corners.
She’s... completely unaffected by the loss of her mother.
Nyra, on the other hand—emotions shake around her shoulders every few seconds like something is pressing to get out. She’s moments away from crumbling to the ground.
She’s afraid.
“Everyone confirms a dragon was in fact the culprit of the crime. They don’t know how this creature came in, but some... some are very certain how it left.” The queen’s dark eyes are on me. “Some say it shifted after my dear advisor’s tragic death. They say you shifted from dragon to girl right before their eyes.”
Advisor? She’s still calling her mother her advisor? Even now?
I process that information but don’t reply. My words are going to seal my fate, and I’d rather use them sparingly in this moment.
“The High Hell adamantly state that you were unconscious when they found you in the garden maze.” Her voice carries on, and I want badly to fling my attention back to the three men who most certainly know what happened that night.
But I don’t.
My shoulders straighten, and I keep my attention trained on her majesty.
