“Is that how you wish to speak to me, Elle?” he repeats, spitting my name like venom.
I refuse to look away from him. Rage has my blood pounding like a drum. “Yes.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. “And yet, it changes nothing.” With a crook of his finger, my chin tilts upward, exposing the column of my neck to him. I still don’t look away. His chuckle is low and derisive, his breath hot on my throat.
He could end my life in an instant. He’s already killed Etta, Silas, Adelaide, and who knows who else.
He takes a step back and smooths the wrinkles on his shirt. He runs a hand through his hair, returning it to its orderly state. “We have somewhere to be, little fawn. Can you behave? Or do I need to control your every move?”
I swallow the vitriol I want to hurl at him and say as calmly as I can, “Fine.”
The other corner of his mouth lifts. “Good girl.” He turns on his heel and walks to the door. “We need to be in the throne room immediately. Go change.” By change, he means change into Mae. He snaps his fingers and my body slumps as his control vanishes.
I trudge to the bathroom, to the blade, and the smothering blanket of dark magic settles over me.
The throne room is empty when we enter, save for one ancient, raven-haired witch. She sits in one of the berry thrones, slender arms draped on the armrests, legs crossed. Desire fills Cora’s bone-white eyes as she tracks Marik’s every move.
The snort comes from nowhere, and I clap a hand over my mouth. Cora’s head cocks as her gaze lands on me. In any other instance, the expression on her face would chill me to the bone. But I’ve found that I no longer care what happens to me. What Idocare about, however, is pissing these people off. I drop my hand back to my side and smile.
“What’s so funny?” Her tone is curious.
“Oh, nothing,” I say dismissively, not even deigning to look at her.
I expect what comes next. My foot freezes mid-stride. Icy fingers crawl up my throat before forcing my chin to tilt toward Cora.
She stares at me from the stolen throne, a single dark eyebrow raised. “What is so funny?”
I lock my jaw. Again, I’m expecting it when her shadow fingers pry it open. Although I have no choice but to look at her, I do so with pride as I say my next words. “You look at him like a love-sick teenager. It’s embarrassing.”
Anger flashes in her eyes, but only briefly. It doesn’t matter. It’s enough. It’s a win.
What happened to behaving?Marik’s voice whispers in my mind. I don’t respond.
Cora addresses Marik. “Are you prepared to speak with them?”
Marik nods and stops in front of Cora on the throne. He bendsdown and she reaches for him, wrapping those pale, slender arms around his neck before pressing her lips to his. I look away as a sour tang fills my mouth. Disgusting.
Marik clears his throat, now perched on the previously empty throne. He motions to the space behind him. “You will stand right here and you will not speak unless spoken toby me.Is that clear?”
I walk to the dais and take my spot. Cora’s earlier expression didn’t scare me, but this upcoming visitor has me nervous.
The throne room doors open and Marik’s control slips over me. For once, I’m thankful for it. Without it, I might have sunk to my knees in defeat.
“Welcome, House Panthera,” Cora says warmly.
Marik
For once, Elle doesn’t fight the hold I have on her. Every time I’ve controlled her, she is a constant force bashing against my grip, like waves in a hurricane crashing into the rocks lining the shore. The first time she fought it, I was shocked. The second time, I was prepared. By the third time, I was impressed. By the tenth time, I was jealous that she had the strength and the hope to not succumb.
But now, she sags against it.
And my skin prickles in disappointment.
House Panthera comes to a stop in front of us. They all bow, like good little, spineless soldiers. Katze stands and stares at Cora with something like worship. I’d love to hear Elle snort at him right about now.
“Welcome back, House Panthera. Lovely to see you again, Cassia,” I say, forcing myself to look at her with hunger. Forcing myself to play my part.
She stares back at me, her rage barely concealed behind her emerald eyes. “Lovely to see you, Your Highness,” Cassia says, but her tone tells me she’d rather be shoveling horse shit.
