“I will give you one more chance to prove yourself, Anniliese,” Kol murmured. “And this time, without my assistance.” She flinched as his fingers brushed across her temple, his skin hot. “One more chance to show that your loyalty lies with me and not the false queen.”
“And if I don’t?”
The world stilled. Anniliese wasn’t sure where the words had come from. Had it even been her to say them? It had sounded like her voice, but surely she valued her life more than to speak them into the warm forest air.
Kol chuckled, though it held little amusement. More shadows clouded around him. “You are bold. I can see why the little goddess and my son tried to sway you.” Shadows replaced his fingers on her face. Anniliese nearly whimpered as they squeezed around her skull.
A silent threat of what he could do—what hewoulddo—if she chose wrong.
“Your safety has been relatively guaranteed, Lady Hareth. Your father asked, and I granted his request. But only on the condition that you did as you were commanded.” Kol tsked. “I would hate to see what would happen to you if that protection went away. You’ve seen how the other priestesses are treated. Armies are ravenous, after all, and not just for food and drink.”
Molten, sickly fear ignited in the pit of Anniliese’s gut. He was right; she had seen it. She saw it every night. How drunken soldiers would find their helpless little flock and drag the priestesses away, returning them often with tear-filled, haunted eyes and torn, stained robes.
They never chose Anniliese. Never seemed to even notice her. It had struck her as odd, but she realized now that perhaps it was only due to the protection of a god she’d never wanted to be indebted to.
“So, what will it be, Anniliese?” Kol pressed. “Obedience or pain?”
If she were stronger, perhaps it would’ve been a harder choice.
But she was not. She was weak and tired and selfish.
“Obedience,” she finally whispered, and she swore the shadows purred.
“Verygood choice,” Kol said with a hum of approval. He stepped away, shadows leaving her skin.
“Now.” His gaze fixed on the quiet, abandoned cottage in the woods, a tomb for a family of outlaws and ghosts. “Burn it down.”
“What?” Another blurted outburst, one that slipped past lips she could never control.
Kol’s gaze burned. “Your flames, Lady Hareth. Use them, and burn this house to the ground.”
Anniliese trembled. Swallowed past a pit lodged in her throat. It hurt—ached—but she reached tentatively into thathollow in her chest, where a core of flickering embers sat waiting.
She tried to grab hold of them, the way Kol and his power had gripped them in Khento. Tried to coax them out, hoping they would burst and flow from her like that night in the gardens. She closed her eyes, focusing on stoking the embers into flames, on pulling them from her chest and into her waiting palm.
Warmth flooded her hand, and she felt a quiet bleat of victory. But when she opened her eyes, there was no more than a small bead of fire fizzling in her palm.
Tears pricked behind her eyes. “I can’t?—”
“Consider your next words carefully,” Kol murmured, and she didn’t think she imagined the tinge of sympathy in his voice. “If I have to do it for you, you will lose my protection.”
Fear dripped through her like hot metal.
“You are afraid,” Kol continued. “That’s good. Use that fear. A cornered animal will eventually lash out. You are cornered now; so,strike.”
He was right; shewascornered. She might be standing in an open clearing, the fresh scent of rain and sandalwood from the woods sweeping around her, but she was trapped. A doe caught in a snare, bleating and shaking and scared.
She imagined what those men in that camp would do to her without Kol’s protection. She may have fallen, but she was still of Royal blood, and they would know that. They would know that because of her station, her life had been sheltered. She’d kissed boys, but never been with a man, andgods,she’d heard the whispers of what men do to girls like her?—
As her thoughts descended into terrified madness, her flames finally burst to life. They jumped from her chest, hot and angry, burning and blistering her from the inside out.
With a tear-choked sob, Anniliese extended her hands and pushed those punishing flames toward the little house in the woods.
It was nearly the peak of summer, and any rain had been nothing more than a soft, short drizzle. The wood was dry, the stone flaking, and it only took a lick of her fire before the entire structure exploded into flames. They roared into the sky, crackling and popping and devouring, dark smoke twisting toward the sun like its god’s cursed shadows.
Anniliese Hareth released a cry of fearful rage as her flames consumed the home of Mariah Salis.
She didn’t know how long it took. How long it lasted. Soon the wood collapsed in on itself, the roof surrendering, rubble falling into smoking cinders. Anniliese fell to her knees, her flames dying to sparks, retreating to the burned and raw place in her chest. Blisters were already forming on her hands, pain pulsing around her skin.
