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He gagged again and began to foam at the mouth. His body spasmed and then went still.
No one moved.
Blood dripped onto the floor. Every creature stared at the body. Then at me. For the first time since I died, I was grateful to have been poisoned.
I pressed one hand against my shoulder. "Does no one else want a taste anymore?"
No one answered.
The room bent. My vision blurred. Darkness swallowed the corners.
Then wingbeats. Dozens. A rush of black. Silence.
Strong hands caught me before I hit the floor.
"You," Teorin said behind me, his voice shaking with something I suspected was anger, "are a fucking idiot."
“Fuck you,” I said, voice hoarse.
“Fuck you too.”
I leaned against him, annoyed with myself that I was relieved to see him, and annoyed with him for smelling good. Like cedar and something spiced. “Where's my soup?” I asked.
He looked toward the hearth. "I should make you eat whatever he was cooking."
I followed his stare. The creature at the pot now lay dead beside the fire. The room had changed entirely. Every one of Teorin's creatures sat perfectly still. Waiting. Watching. Like obedient hunting dogs.
A brief twinge of irritation came over me. I had drunk my own poison-mucous among other things tonight in an attempt to be respected as dangerous only for them all to die.
Part of me had looked forward to watching them avoid me and tremble in fear that I may lick their souls and eat their ashes or whatever preposterous lie I had sown just minutes ago.
I looked at his creatures. He really was a feeder, because these were Morraks. “They're like Sevrin's," I murmured. “Except the eyes are different. And the wings.”
"They are." A corner of his mouth lifted. “But like most things involving my brothers, mine are superior."
I laughed and immediately regretted it. Pain shot through my shoulder. Teorin looked down and his expression vanished.
"What the fuck—"
CHAPTER 13
Axar
Avoice thundered through the hall.
"What."
The torches bent toward the doorway. Every creature in the room went still in a way that had nothing to do with manners.
"A pathetic."
"Disappointment."
He filled the doorway. Tall, with a face that should have been young and wasn't. His skin was flawless, his eyes a deep burgundy that held the room without effort. Everything about him made me think of Sevrin, even his face was similar. His power hit me before he fully crossed the threshold, pressing against my chest like something I could not name, suffocating in a way that made me want to sit down.
"Who the fuck are you?" Teorin said.
"Your uncle." He looked at Teorin. "Now I see why your father never mentioned you. You are truly worthless."