I consider his question carefully, forcing myself to isolate my own fears and push them away.
“Not fear or pain,” I say finally. “That would only make them fight back. Isolation would cause their wolves to become agitated, so, again, they would fight harder to get out and be together.” I gasp as I suddenly realize the only thing that would make my beautiful sisters remain there.
“Illusion,” I whisper. “The illusion of happiness.”
Roman gives a short nod. “This is a good thing in the short term, but it will come with pain eventually. I can’t say for certain, but I imagine the prison will show Taniya the life she could have had with Dastian and the eagle shifters. And Malia—I’m not sure—maybe she will be immersed in an illusion of life in a coven with sister witches. The pain will come when you get them out and they realize none of that was true.”
“WhenI get them out?” I ask, since he sounds surprisingly certain, and it fills me with that damn warmth again. “Getting them out of the prison is my first obstacle. Getting them out of this world is my second.”
He lets me go, but pins me with his steady gaze. “There’s no way to leave Mortem until the gates open. That will only happen when a new ruler is found—or your father returns.”
The intensity of his speech resonates through me, and it calls for honesty. “I don’t want to win. The one who wins has to stay and rule, and I don’t want that.”
“Then you need to survive until the end,” he says.
I sigh. “How do I do that without trying to win?”
“Each trial will remove at least one royal from the running in one of two ways,” he says. “Death, mortal injury, or best case, failing a test that forms part of the trial.”
“So my only option is to fail a later trial in a way that leaves me alive,” I say, but I shake my head as dread fills me. “Crone wants me dead. She controls the Elimination. She’ll make it difficult for me to drop out alive.”
Roman turns and takes my hand. “As soon as the gates to Centrum open again, I will give you the angel’s weapon so you and your sisters can leave this place without anyone being able to stop you.”
The angel’s weapon is the reason we were forced to come here. Its light enables travel to and from Mortem. When we first arrived, I demanded that Roman give it to me so I could get my family out of here, but the gates had already shut. Roman placed a rune on the weapon to make it disappear, telling me he would keep it safe until the gates open—where he’s keeping it, I don’t know. But the fact that he’s offering it to me means freedom. To go home even if whomever rules this world at the end of the Elimination doesn’t want to let us go.
“Face each trial one at a time, Nova,” Roman says, his palm brushing mine once more before he releases me.
Taking a deep breath, I tell myself:Win the first trial. Free my sisters. Worry about the rest after that.
And maybe… try to survive this new honesty from Roman, which has my heart cracking and healing in my chest over and over.
As we approach the end of the path and enter the city’s outskirts, I’m unsettled by how much the buildings gleam. Sleek structures in this area rise toward the pristine blue sky. The buildings are not quite like skyscrapers because none appear more than ten levels high, but they’re all coated in a gleaming material that seems to fracture the light.
Each building is set apart by a wide central street with wide alleys between them. The side of each structure has an enormous silver sculpture integrated into its side. The nearest building has a metallic tree, whose trunk, branches, and leaves adhere to its side. The next building has a dragon, its long, serpentine body clinging to the wall, its majestic head and long tail gleaming at opposite corners.
Despite the density of the jungle I saw outside the city, there is very little real nature on the streets ahead of me. They’re paved in glistening stone and shade is provided by awnings that stretch between buildings in places.
“What are these buildings for?” I ask Roman. “Are they workplaces?”
“They’re homes,” he says. “Each one is owned by an elite demon who has risen in ranks. The majority of the population serves these elites.”
We turn a corner onto a busy street and real conversation becomes impossible, given that we could be overheard. Feeling the need to stay alert to my surroundings, I quell my remaining questions for Roman.
The dark energy from the demons ahead of us is like a heavy pall over my senses. I’m used to their human and non-human appearances now, but I notice that none of them appear to have the unusual hair colors that the royals and I have. No doubt it’s a trait that sets us apart.
As we approach the demons on the street, I struggle to constrain my wolf’s response—she has learned to live symbiotically with my darker half, but until now I’ve used my demon power for the purpose of ending as many demons as I can. The influx of demon power around me now is making my wolf uneasy.
Just as growls threaten to leave my lips, one of the males ahead of us catches sight of Roman. This demon is human-looking, but his already fair skin pales to a sickly shade of white as he stares at Roman with widening eyes.
With a jolt, he drops to his knees, his head bowed. “Lord Rune,” he says, loudly enough to make the demons around us startle.
Their eyes widen as they notice Roman striding toward them.
The nearest demons also drop to a knee while a few in the distance take one look at Roman and disappear down side streets. What really surprises me is when one of the female demons, who is carrying a child, actively covers her infant's eyes as Roman strides past.
My lips part in surprise before I utter a hushed whisper, low and quiet. “They’re afraid of you.”
Roman’s expression is as hard as granite, his eyes dark as he surveys the demons we pass—all of them on their knees with heads bowed. “They’ve learned to fear me.”
