However, Finnian had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to lure Ronin to Hollow City and hand it over. Not only that, but Naia was of grave importance to Finnian, and the idea of inflicting torture onto Finnian’s brother-in-law or nephew rolled his stomach.
“This all started because word got out of her title.” Acacius scowled. “By the fucking mouths of Finnian’s organizations that he left behind.”
I will right my wrongs.
Finnian’s methodical plots amazed Cassian. Though the dread swelling inside of him left no room for pride. It appeared Finnian was accomplishing everything he set out to do.
“Brother,” Iliana called, snapping Cassian out of his introspection. All heads pointed in his direction. “You have been awfully quiet. Tell us your opinion on the situation.”
Cassian flitted his gaze over each deity sitting before him. There was a reason he and his siblings created the Council thousands of years ago. If they so desired, they could destroy the universe. The Council was law, yes, but for those sitting around the table, it was order, balance. One could not act without others' permission. A power without freedom.
Cassian fixed his attention onto his sister, ignoring the scrutiny of Ruelle’s gaze, like a hand trapped around his throat. “Naia becomes a member of the Council. We can keep her power under control, as well as the actions of the Himura bloodline. The uproar and uneasiness among the deities will settle, and those with opposition can be met with retribution.”
Iliana passed him a small smile of gratitude. He recognized the relief set in her tense shoulders beneath her tailored, button-up blouse. “Then it is settled.” She rose from her throne and smoothed out her blush, knee-length chiffon skirt. “Meeting adjourned.”
Azara disappeared like a breath, the sound of her departure punctuated by the sparks of fire cracking in the empty space of where she sat.
“I suppose time is ticking then.” Ruelle twisted her head at Cassian with a demeaning smile playing on her lips. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Cassian?”
A spiraling pang shot through his chest.
There was a distinct manner in her voice only he could decipher.
Your time is up.
The wailsof Moros intertwined in a single, haunting ensemble, filling the corridor and swarming Cassian. The oppressive warmth coated his skin, forming beads of sweat across his forehead.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there, face pale, staring at the silhouettes from the flickering sconces bouncing off the stone door.
On the other side, he could hear the ragged breath Finnian drew, the groans slipping out in between. The stench of flayed flesh coated Cassian’s nostrils and down the back of his throat.
Shivani had briefed him before she’d left. Finnian’s fortitude was slowly wavering. She’d managed to slice through his mental barrier by severing his hair. Each lock cut by her precious knives had chipped away some of his fight.
Cassian was not foolish enough to think Finnian would give in, though. That he would enter the room and somehow get Finnian to confess where Alke hid. He was much too stubborn to make things easy. If anything, Shivani had only pissed him off and provoked his sense of spite.
Cassian was at a loss.
Which curse will you choose?
He had many in his arsenal. Less severe ones that mimicked mortal diseases, to ones that attacked and festered the mind.
The tightness in Cassian’s chest reached up to his throat, squeezing the breath out of him.
He knew which one to go with. The stronger mental stamina the deity possessed, the more brutal of a curse they would needto be under in order for Cassian to get results. It was his protocol—weighing his victims' personal limitations.
Cassian’s heart raced, his pulse spiking with indecision. Tension ached in the muscles down his neck, his shoulders, his back—his body begging him not to step inside the room.
It will work out in the end, he reassured himself.It must.
The curse would only speed up the process. Gnaw away at Finnian’s mind, and, while doing so, perhaps uproot the memories of their past.
Cassian couldn’t stop envisioning how it would go—Finnian with venom in his eyes, the pain branding his face as Cassian dealt the blow.
Panic quivered his insides like a turbulent flight.
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, desiring to release the scream trapped in his throat.
I don’t want to do this.
