The drum’s beats intensified, then suddenly stopped. The fire sizzled, then separated into two individual smaller fires—like the flame itself was passing judgment.
“Second!”
Caddver announced. The other members chanted in unison, “Hail the almighty Flame, hail the almighty Flame, hail the almighty Flame.”
Aurelius smiled wickedly; he seemed incredibly pleased to see the High Lord not be number one at something.
Titus didn’t react. He didn’t show any emotion. He stepped down and stood to the side opposite of me. I stared at him with all of my focus, begging him with my eyes to spare me just one glance, but he didn’t.
“Aurelius, Master of Dragons, offer your blood to the Great Flame.” Caddver commanded.
Without any hesitation, Aurelius climbed the dais and stood beside the flame. He took the dagger and sliced into his palm with a sadistic smile, as if he enjoyed the pain. His blood dripped down in heavy plops. The fire sizzled and crackled. The drum sped up and intensified, then stopped. The flame split into three separate fires within the bowl.
“Third!” The council member announced.
A fleeting trace of concern crossed the Dragon Master’s face, almost imperceptible to others—but I caught it. My senses were heightened, hyper-aware of every detail, adrenaline making me feel like a trapped animal.
Again, the other members chanted in unison, “Hail the almighty Flame, hail the almighty Flame, hail the almighty Flame.”
My heart sank. Then that meant Cercies…
“General Cercies, you will be the first to seed, congratulations. After the planting of all three seeds concludes, the vessel’s blood will be offered again to the Great Flame, revealing by number which seed took root, and therefore who is worthy of the flaming throne.”
The council members pounded their chests with one fist over their hearts and chanted, “May the almighty flame bless us with the heir to rule and conquer all!”
Titus didn’t react, but Cercies did. He was drenched in sweat and mildly trembling, keeping his eyes on the ground.
Caddver spoke again. “Seeds take your places at the warming station.”
What the—What’s a… Oh god, no.
My stomach dropped when I realized what “warming” meant.
Thethree females on their knees, facing the wall with heads bowed, waited for each male to stand in front of them. The way they raised their heads in unison gave me chills, like this wasn’t the first time they’d been forced to do this.
Aurelius pridefully shed his sheet to the ground and, with a malicious grin, placed his hands on his head and looked at me with seductive eyes—and a wink that made me want to vomit. The female did what she was forced to do with her hands bound behind her in gold chains. Were these three females slaves? I fucking hated this kingdom.
Cercies kept his silk sheet on and turned his hips away from the female, avoiding her and keeping his gaze at the floor.
Titus took his place in front of the third female bound in chains and kept the same blank stare into nothingness, his body unmoving.
The other two females looked at each other in confusion, wondering why Titus and Cercies were not disrobing.
“Might I remind you, General—and Lord Titus—that the collars around your necks hold daggers tipped in Fae-bane. At any point you refuse to comply, we are within our legal authority to use our magic and trigger those blades through your jugulars. The poison will strip you of your power, and you will bleed out in a matter of seconds. It may sound extreme but given the situation—and how powerful you both are—we deemed it necessary,” Caddver explained.
Fae-bane? Poison? On Cercies’s collar too? Oh… fuck.
That was why they were complying with this. They didn’t have a choice. They would lose their powers and self-healing abilities, and lives.
My jaw locked so hard my teeth ached.
I let out a loud cry, “no,” and I saw Titus flinch, but he still wouldn’t look at me. Other than the occasional rolling ember above his shoulders, he looked unfazed.
Titus parted his silk sheet and complied, and I felt like I died inside. He didn’t respond physically. It was as if he was made of stone.
It was neither of their faults. Not Titus’s nor the slaves. They were both victims, being forced in one way or another to take part in this sick shit, but betrayal didn’t discriminate against nonconsent. It still hurt to see him be intimate with another.
Cercies looked at the ceiling and parted his silks, and I felt like I could hear his soul breaking—or was that my heart? I couldn’t tell because the fucking drum was pounding my brain into madness.
