“Now, take me to your owner,” I spit.
Vessira’s shoulders drop in defeat, and she leads me down the hollow, cursed halls of this forsaken castle. The doors to the dining room rush towards me, and I know, deep in the marrow of my bones that I am about to cross a threshold.
I stand up a little taller, pulling my shoulders back and imbuing my every move with a regality that feels foreign. False. Like stolen royalty.Like a lie.
One of the guards at the intimidating doors to the dining room sees me approaching, and despite his shock at my appearance, he bellows, “Elyssara, the Lightborne.”
Every guard drinks in my scars, my curves—the whole defiant shape of me.
Hushed remarks and secretive whispers fill the hallway, but I don’t look away. I stare down every one of them: unafraid, unyielding, unbroken.
The doors push open with pomp and formality, and I steel my nerves before stepping over the threshold.
The air thins, and the stakes rise.
Maldrak’s dining room unfurls before me—just as obnoxious as last time. The white marble table that splits the room is veined with black that runs through it like the curse that runs through the Marked. The table stares back at me like a warning of what my fate will be if I do not kneel.
Maldrak’s blue eyes are the next thing I see; charming, alluring, and entitled.
“You never disappoint, Elyssara.” His tone is smooth as oil. His jaw tightens. A vein pulses at his neck.I’ve angered him.Or at the very least, I’ve commanded his attention.
“I always rise above expectations, yes,” I reply in a way that sounds like agreement. But we both know I’m playing a dangerous game.
“I wasn’t aware battle was on the cards tonight, Princess,” he nudges, holding out his elbow to lead me into the snare he’s undoubtedly set for me.
I hook my arm under his, keeping up this illusion of pleasantries, but my skin crawls. It feels wrong.Hefeels wrong. In the same way The Decay feels wrong. But I swallow it down.
“Every heartbeat is war inside Kryntar Castle,” I say with candor. A risky move to push him like this.
His gaze rakes over my shoulders and onto my back. His pupils dilate just enough for me to notice, before he says, “You seem to be handling it quite nicely.”
“I was born for battle,” I counter smoothly.
He doesn’t react. He simply pulls out an ostentatious chair for me, and gestures to it with a flourish of his hand, and I take my seat to the right of the head of the table. He takes his place, crossing an ankle over a knee and leaning back in his chair. He clicks his fingers to a servant, who promptly fills two goblets with rich, crimson wine.
Maldrak takes a small sip, swirling the wine through his mouth before swallowing and sucking his teeth.
“I heard you tried out a new little trick on one of my commanders,” he says, as if striking up a casual dinner conversation. I notice the way he grips his goblet, like his rage is barely leashed. He seems…rattled.
Good.I’ll push further.
I lean forward, planting my elbows on the table. “It’s just the beginning of what I will do every day you keep me here,” I whisper with malicious intent.
Maldrak leans forward, reaching for my hand, and holding it in the palm of his.
“You see, Elyssara, I don’t want to fight or force you. I want you tochoosethis path of conquest for yourself.” He traces tender circles on the top of my hand with his thumb, and I wantto recoil, but his grip tightens. “But you forget that you are not the only Starborn with magic of the gods in their veins,” he says the words like they should mean something to me. Like I’m missing something. And that’s when I feel it?—
“ARRRRGHHHHHHHH!” I scream an unholy sound, trying to wrestle my palm from his to grab my head in agony, but he’s too strong.
Pain bursts in my vision, my head feels like it's caving under the pressure of a vise.
“I can force you, Princess. Iwillforce you if I must. I will get inside your head through the runes I draw on your skin. I will Mark you with Death’s darkness and make you do all manner of things that benefit me,” he promises.
He’s a fucking Runewright.
Kael didn’t tell me.
He didn’t prepare me.
