“Because we make bad decisions,” I growled. “But you know what? Every time that happens, we get better, because we learn from our mistakes.”
“You think that’s a threat? You won’t have the opportunity to make anothermistake, Sosna. This is the end for you.”
Gabby got right in my face. “By the way, I know you’re still bitter about what I did. And I don’t regret it.”
She kicked my bad knee. I cried out as I fell onto my face, the wound pounding with blinding agony.
I heard Lord Lucien give a gasp. I didn’t want my dad to see me give in, so I struggled upright and spat snow out of my mouth. “I don’t care what you say. I’m still a queen,” I said through clenched teeth. “This ismycountry,myland. It’s not yours.”
Gabby’s lip rose. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s come to save you.”
“They’ll come.”
“Liar. Did you honestly believe you would remain the false queen of the Arcanea for long? Do you think you have what it takes to rule a shifter empire?” Gabby cried.
She turned her back on me. “You know nothing. That I caught you in my trap proves it. You have failed at being queen, and tonight, the fae will know who their rightful monarch is. I will reign over them forever.”
Gabby indicated for the cultists to drag me to my feet. I was wrenched upright, and yanked toward the grave. I fought, but there was no resisting the shifters containing me.
“The eclipse is in position,” Lady Korva hissed. “Gabriella, it is time.”
Gabby stepped before the grave. The music from the cultists became more intense as Gabby raised her hands to the sky and began a chant in Malovian. I’d been learning from Ethan, so I could decipher the words as she called them to the stars.
“Droga, Black Stag of Wrath,
Your servant, she sings,
Awaken from your prison
And take this offering.
Burst forth from your grave
For I am your believer
And I have come to give to you
The blood of a Worldweaver.”
Gabby withdrew a knife from her cloak. She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me forward. I let out a cry as she cut into my palm. She took my hand and smeared the blood upon the stone casket. My bleeding palm was dragged across the grave to Gabby’s satisfaction, until she pushed me down and placed her own palms over the stone.
God of agony and suffering,
By my prayer abide
I say to you, god of poor death,
Arise, arise, arise!”
The earth started to shake. There was a tearing sound as the stone grave broke in half. The cultists began babbling in wonderment, and I backed away from the casket, absolutely terrified.
Thick smoke rose from the broken grave, and black fire licked at the edges of the stone. The sound of torturous screams from the Underworld were on the wind as a hole in the ground opened wide, and the stone casket fell into it.
My innards shuddered as I watched dark antlers emerge from the grave first. A powerful stag pulled himself from the grave, monstrous in size, hooves digging into the dirt as he hefted himself upward. The stag took up the length of the clearing, body corded with muscle, a pelt darker than midnight. His eyes burned red, leaving a trail of ruby fog in the night as his head rose above the treetops and his antlers extended to the sky.
Droga. The Dark God.
Everyone in the circle dropped to their knees. The cultists bowed before Droga. Lady Korva, along with Queen Antonia, curtsied. Gabby stared at Droga in reverence, like she’d never seen a more enchanting sight.
