But the truth slid down his spine, caressing his shadows like a snake.
You were raised by monsters, Andrian. Lesser or greater—you get to choose.
Julian shrugged. “I suppose we’ll have to just wait and see. I, however, had no interest in standing idly by as my kingdom—my home—fell into the palms of a monster. I rebelled in the only ways I could.”
Andrian’s blood ran cold at the nonchalance in Julian’s words.
“Killing your mother was my first act,” Julian continued, speaking so dryly it was as if he was discussing the weather. “When you were Selected, I knew what it meant. Before bringing my threats to you, I tried to take a less direct path. Shawth was simple enough to manipulate into trying to kill Mariah, so much so that he truly believed he was doing Kol’s bidding. My experiences with the dark god had exposed me to a fair bit of ritual work; the Uroboros demon was easy to summon from the Enfaran pits. From there, Shawth’s thirst for power took over and did the rest.”
“You are amonster.” Andrian leaped to his feet, rushing the bars of Julian’s cell. Shadows poured from his shoulders, twisting and writhing down his arms. His body shook with a barely contained rage. He carried no weapons, but his control slipped, and his shadows became solid, winding between the iron.
He deserves it. He killed your mother. He tried to murder your queen. Your love. Your personal moonlight. Make him suffer the way you have all these years.
The words were whispered poison in Andrian’s mind. His knuckles were white where he gripped the bars, his vision blurring around the edges.
Julian glanced up and chuckled. Not a trace of fear crossed his face.
“Do it,” he murmured. “Prove to me that you are every bit the monster I always knew you’d become. That your mother deserved her fate for her part in bringing you into this world.”
That cooled the rage simmering in Andrian’s blood, just a touch. His shadows crept back, still winding around his arms but no longer reaching out with malice.
“What interesting confessions tonight, Lord Laurent. It has been fascinating to finally hear your side of things.”
Andrian released the bars of the cell, whirling to face the source of the new, lilting voice.
Kol melted from the shadows as if he’d been in them all this time. He straightened the lapels of his jacket, red eyes glinting in theallumeglow. Julian rushed to his feet, and for the first time that night Andrian saw genuine fear written across his face.
The god placed a hand on Andrian’s shoulder. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from recoiling.
“You’ll have your chance for revenge, Andrian. Of that, I have no doubt.” Those red-gold eyes flashed, dread seeping through the cold dungeon halls. Kol smiled, a dark and menacing thing.
“For now, I believe it’s time for Julian to face judgment for his crimes.”
Chapter 14
The embrace wrapped around Mariah was warm and familiar.
The lazy sounds of early morning filtered in through the cracked windows, carried on a soft and delicate breeze. She dragged in a deep inhale, the sunlight warming her face. Rain and sandalwood filled her lungs, a beloved scent that was as familiar to her as the woods of her childhood home.
Mariah pressed her back into the warm hardness. The arms surrounding her tightened, just enough to keep her from twisting. Breath tickled the hair at her temple, lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“No moving, little moon. And keep your eyes closed.”
Even with the final vestiges of sleep still clutching at her mind, a lazy thrill slid through Mariah, trailing down her body and settling deep in her core. The nickname was odd, but she ignored it, keeping her eyes closed as a small smile tugged at her lips.
“‘Eyes closed,’” she repeated sleepily, arching into him again. “Have something planned, Armature?”
His chuckle rumbled through her body and set all her senses ablaze. “For you? Always. Now.” He tugged her closer. Mariahinhaled sharply at the feel of him, hard and impressive, against her backside. “Be quiet.”
She was about to give him another retort when his hands loosened their hold. They trailed across her skin, feather-light touches teasing and dancing. One slid under the hem of the tunic she wore—histunic, if she had to guess—tracing delicate circles under the swell of her breasts. The other moved lower, following the smooth plane of her stomach. He tugged at her underwear, exhaling softly into her hair.
He groaned when his fingers slipped beneath the lace.
Mariah tipped back her head, resting it against his shoulder. She kept her eyes closed as he’d asked, and he lazily explored her. Her own hand gripped his forearm, feeling the muscles and tendons contract.
“So wet and ready,” he murmured. Finally, slowly, he pushed a finger inside. It did little to fill the steady ache threatening to consume her, her mouth parting with a quiet whimper.
“More,” she whispered, and felt his lips twitch against her temple. She could picture the smirk on his face, the way it would make his brilliant indigo eyes sparkle.
