Holy fucking Angels.
I screamed, vaguely aware of people gathering. That dagger stared at me, taunting me, twisting every shred of my heart.
My knees buckled, but Rina held me up. Cyph stepped forward and braced my elbow.
“Wh-who…what…” I couldn’t even get the words out.
My lungs. They couldn’t work right. Just clenching in small gasps.
Cyph’s face was pale as he barked instructions to search every inch of the grounds, dismissing every lower-rank warrior. My sister rubbed soothing circles across my back, but the pressure burrowed through my spine, around my ribs, into my heart.
All I saw was the ornateVetched into the handle of that dagger and the solid grip I’d seen use it countless times. The cocky smirk and wink as he threw it.
All I heard was his voice.I’ll see you in three weeks’ time, Alabath.
Blood leaked red and true, inching toward me. I couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t look away from it.It wouldn’t stop.
Whatever was in that fucking box was damaged, likely beyondrepair. Who was I kidding, with that much blood that box likely held…pieces of someone. Bile climbed up my throat, and I clung to Rina. My nails dug into her arm, leaving crescent marks, but nothing could hurt as badly as the sight of his dagger.
Tolek…
“Ophelia,” Jezebel muttered.
My head snapped up. “What?” I breathed.
“Did you hear what we said?” Jezzie’s face was pale.
“N-no,” I stammered, shaking my head, looking around. Everyone was here, eyes wide and fearful—my friends, the delegates, the council, Barrett and Dax…Malakai. He stood on the third stair, arms crossed, lips a tight line. But there was concern in those narrowed eyes, in his clenched jaw.
“We have to open it,” he said.
My heart thundered against my ribs as I stepped forward. Beside the dagger, a smaller item I hadn’t noticed before reflected the light: my pin. The world spun, but I breathed over it, taking the gift I’d sent with Tol and tucking it into my pocket.
Trying to pull myself together for those watching, I eased the dagger out of the box. The paper fluttered away, the one word printed on it dancing in the wind:Ophelia. A gift for me. When it landed on the stair, face down in the sticky crimson puddle, the faint embossing in the corner caught the light:TV.
I curled my fingers tighter around the dagger. They’d taken paper from Tol’s personal journal. I slid his weapon beside mine on my thigh, knowing exactly where I’d prefer to plunge it.
With a deep breath I threw off the lid and stumbled back into Cypherion. A metallic tang filled the air, wrenching gasps of disgust from our group.
The box was full—nearly to the brim. Dark, thick blood sloshed within. So much of it. Chunks floated in the center—ice. As if they’d frozen the contents, defrosting it only once it reached us. How they managed that I didn’t know, I didn’t care, because whoever this blood belonged to…they clearly were no longer alive.
Cypherion grabbed the note, careful to avoid the scarlet stains. I’d never seen his hands shake before, but now they trembled.
“Ophe—” He cleared his throat. “Ophelia, you ferocious, wickedlittle thing. Remember, sacrifice is a skill we must conquer. Will it be your blood or his that coats the altar?”
I might have screamed. I couldn’t be sure if the sound broke from my lips or echoed through my head.
“P.S.,” Cypherion continued. “The scar on his thigh is lovely. In two weeks, he’ll start receiving a matching one each day, unless I see you first.”
Fury rolled through me hotter than the heart of the Spirit Volcano. And I swore—anyone who touched him would die at my hands. I’d revel in watching the life leave their bodies, until darkness swooped in to steal their spirits.
Storming around the box, I hurried up the stairs. Footsteps followed me.
“Where are you going?” It was the only voice that could shock me enough to stop me.
I whirled in the doorway, finding Malakai’s face only inches from mine. “Where am Igoing?” I gaped.
“You can’t listen to her,” he demanded. He looked at me likeIwas the ridiculous one.
