“I’m more than eager to hear your admission, my star.”
I have to mask my face to keep the nausea down. As unfortunate as it is to have this man so eager to claim me, it’s more important for the cause of The Hidden.
I can make myself a weapon just like Kassiel’s been welded before.
Letting the promise of retribution for Hanin and the rest of the magical folk steel my spine, I continue on. “You see, my king, I have a very special talent I’d been waiting for the perfect moment to reveal to you, and I can’t think of one more perfect than the Blood Eclipse, where we honor the sun god’s wrath andrightful vengeance.” I hate it the moment those vile words leave my mouth.
I meet King Euron’s eyes, the blue of them visibly lifeless the more I peer into them. This all feels so wrong. Like my soul is screaming to run but I’m a rabbit in a snare.
His chin tips up, the authoritarian posture natural for the bastard. He watches me from the tip of his nose and arches an eyebrow expectantly.
If the world paused right now I wouldn’t know it. Everyone surrounding us is too still, too expectant.
Thinking of Kassiel’s kisses and his obsession over licking every inch of me, my magic begins to hum. My hands illuminate and my magic peels out, strong and un—sputtering, thank the gods. I imagine the light bending and forming a raven. The mirage is so realistic he reaches out to touch it.
Gasps are heard all around and murmuring grows louder as I cause the raven to spread its wings.
“Blessed gods, Illusion is a rarity I haven’t seen in … ages.” His jaw hangs open, hand still outstretched as I bend the light again to have the raven fly to him. Willing the raven to set upon his outstretched hand, it does so. My body starts to grow weary. I haven’t expanded this much magic ever.
As he lowers his hand, the mirage quickly dissipates, the light twinkling away.
“You really are my little star, aren’t you Lady Orlah?” He’s quick to stand even closer to me, to claim me.
My body riots when he grabs my arm and tucks it into his, leading me away from the stone bench and onlookers.
Leeson jumps up from her seated position and Jessamine is quick to follow.
The only reassurance I have at this moment is my opaline dagger strapped to my thigh. The cool stone gently taps my leg with each step.
Our plan has worked and I should feel relief, but the opposite fills me. I grow more anxious with each step, praying that Leeson and Jessamine can stay with me wherever we’re going.
I look to the sky and see the moons are starting to bleed red, starting on the smaller moon.
Anticipation grates against my bones as I think of Rune searching for the leirunes.
My heart starts to beat faster and I’m worried that King Euron will feel it in the arm that he has locked in an iron grip.
“Where do we go, my king?” The words are strong and sure and it’s only by the goddess that they are.
“I have a surprise for you too, starlight. You can join me in the front for the next festivity, it’s my own offering in honor of tonight. It’s not often I can present something of this nature to the court.” His serpentine smile grows wide with pure amusement and my heart skips. Whatever is in his eyes, I don’t like it. It looks too wicked.
As we round the perfectly manicured hedgerow, I see a small crowd gathered. Curiosity eats at me mixed with heady apprehension. Whatever is planned, King Euron wants it to be a spectacle.
The crowd parts easily enough and I’m ushered through to the front, King Euron never easing his grip that has started to affect the feeling in my arm. I’m locked in his grasp, my elbow forced uncomfortably tight and my fingers tingle as they go numb.
Leeson and Jessamine are forced to stand in the back, and I turn my head in an attempt to read their expressions. Jessamine is as helpless as I am in this moment, as her magic would doom her to a worse fate than me. Her eyes plead with me and I can only offer a small placating smile.
“Now,” the king’s voice booms over the swarm of people, all of them eager for what’s to come. “As we celebrate today,glorified retribution from centuries ago, by the Lord who had what was rightfully his stolen away, I thought I’d send my own offering up to the sun god who gave him his revenge.”
He can’t truly mean to celebrate the Lord from Kassiel’s myth harming his own betrothed?
My mind reels on this perverse thought alone, that I don’t notice when the gardens get darker. Just like I don’t notice a figure swathed in ebony fabrics and shades of black walk to the front. It’s not until I flick my gaze from the bloodied moons to see what everyone else stares at that my stomach drops out.
The Devourer, fully clothed in his executioner suit, looking as sharp as the smile on King Euron’s face. He’s devastatingly beautiful, like an usher of death, a forlorn spirit tasked with greeting those who’ve crossed the veil too soon. And next to him, Zedriel.
My knees threaten to give out as my brain tries to make sense of what’s happening.
You can hear a handkerchief drop with how quiet the court goes, waiting for the king’s plans.
