Asher’s fingers bit at my nape as he pulled me closer still. Vicious jealously winding tighter about my shoulders.
A light, cool touch landed on my wrist, and I looked at the woman who stepped into the Lieutenant General’s path.
Carly.
Her chin lifted. Defiant and steely, she nudged me back, and said, “I did.”
But my eyes landed on something grotesque.
Black, cracked skin. Blisters seeping red and glistening where they ringed her dainty wrist.
Burns.
Seared in an unmistakable shape.
My palm tingled.
Horror prickled through the icy, soothing numb as my gaze traced the path of each digit where I had held her in a clenched fist—where I had branded her with my touch.
She tucked her hands inside the folds of her skirt and faced the Lieutenant General head on. “It was me.”
The Lieutenant General’s glare tightened as it shifted to her face. “Is that so?”
Colonel Viridian pushed through the women to stand at her side, spluttering. “What is the meaning of this—”
“It’s simple, sir,” she murmured. “I overheard mention that the Head Priestess was to be buried in General Tilcot’s place, and did my sworn duty as her successor. I alone knew the incantations for the funeral pyre. It was me,” she said again.
But another priestess stepped forward, and shouted, “She’s lying! I was there too,” she hissed, all stiff lines and righteous fury. “I overheard the same conversation, butIwas to be the next Head Priestess.”
“No, it was me!” said a third.
“Liars, all of them! I started the fire!”
A ripple of nervous energy shivered through the elites.
But a glassy smile spread across my lips.
Eyes narrowed, the Lieutenant General was silent as his gaze scanned the women standing defiant before him. Calculating as each and every one of them stepped up to claim responsibility for the fire.
All but me, and the ghost floating in the Lieutenant General’s shadow.
“So,” he said when they finished. “It’s to be a group punishment, then.”
“Anything public will make martyrs of them,” said a man with sallow cheeks who claimed his priestess and tucked her neatly behind his bulky frame.
A giant man stepped forward, and laid a gentle touch on the shoulders of an unusually tall priestess. “And every time my Bella is sick or injured,” he rumbled, “I’m affected on the field.”
“I’ll pay reparations for Keelie’s part in this debacle,” yet another elite offered. “But I won’t see her harmed in any way. And not for a crime with no clear culprit and no victim.”
A breath caught in my throat, and for just a moment, my smile grew watery.
“No victim?”
Still smiling, I turned toward the new voice.
It was a woman, dressed in a widow’s blacks. “No victim?” she said again, but this time, it was a low hiss laced with outrage.
“Mrs. Tilcot,” the Lieutenant General said, “please. This is a private meeting, so if you’ll—”
