All it takes is him whispering the ancient command and running his palm across the stone before my collar burns and seizes.
King Euron forces my shadows back under my skin, the daemons slowly fading to nothing but wisps of shadows, before he walks over and has me on my knees in front of him, all because he commanded it
He stares down upon me, smugness written on his face by the way he purses his lips.
“What a neat party trick, Kassiel.” His venomous words do nothing to me now thatsheis safe.
I glance back towards the treeline and see no inkling of where her and the rest of our group escaped to.
Good. Because what happens next would be enough to send her into a spiral.
Orlin closes in on me, a savagery promise threaded in his threatening gaze.
My blood runs cold knowing he’s entranced by my rarest magic, that he’s learned I can call the veil.
“Now, Kassiel,” his voice is sharp, quiet, laced with maliciousness, “it seems that you’ve left a significant amount of information out about what you really are.”
King Euron stalks towards me, his face lights up as I witness the clicking of gears in his mind.
Fuck.
I’ve held these secrets for too long. I knew the fates had cursed me by letting me be a keyhole between realms, but I hadn’t anticipated them handing me the fucking key.
King Euron’s mind must be coming to the same conclusion by the way his seedy smile swallows his face.
“Who would have thought that while saving her, you brought me an even better gift, Kassiel.”
His hand moves fast, striking my face with a heavy blow.
My skin splits with the force and the throb is immediate.
“I can’t believe that the gods would hide such a gift beneath my very nose all these turns. I guess I’ll need to thank them for their offering.”
He reaches for the onyx stone again, and a hum beneath my skin trickles to life.
I can’t stop what I know to be coming, after turns by his side, I’m well aware of how his punishment will end for me.
This time, knowing Alora is at least safe makes what’s about to happen a little easier to endure.
Euron whispers in the ancient language once more as his Helianate soldiers circle around us, eager to watch the spectacle of my magic forced from my veins.
Usually Euron would force me to take a soul by touch, reveling in the anguish on my face and their tormented memories that would pummel into my mind.
I’d done it before, one by one until entire villages were destroyed.
But this is different.
Now he knows that the daemons are an extension of my death touch.
So it shouldn’t be surprising when he looks around at his soldiers and his face twists with disappointment.
He inquires cooly, “Who was supposed to be stationed on this side of the castle?”
The words drip with disdain.
“You have lost me a treasure, a rarity. You have cost me what’s been promised to me through the beginning of time, mynaymeih.”
I want to puke hearing him call Alora his betrothed.
