A snarl rises in my throat as I spin around, and Shadow’s talons draw blood as they dig into my flesh.
The priestess stands a few feet away from me, studying me with a smirk on her face. Her crimson robe is lined with silver, and the hood is down. Her pin-straight lavender hair falls to her waist in one long braid.
A lantern dangles from the fingers of her right hand, the skin lacking the red Mark she usually wears for public appearances. She is free from all adornment, save for a necklace of the three moons, which hangs between her supple breasts.
She would be the picture of godly beauty and purity, blessed by the Mother Goddess herself, if it weren’t for the dark glimmer in her eyes.
Alette makes an amused sound in the back of her throat as her eyes sweep over me. “Goddess, Andreas. You look positively terrible.” She arches a brow and smirks. “Aren’t you sleeping?”
I’m not, but that’s none of her business.
My lips curl. “It’s ‘Your Majesty,’ Alette. I am yourking, and you would do well to remember that fact.”
“Apologies, Your Majesty,” she says in her saccharine, fake tone. “How could I ever forget my place?” She dips her head, lowering herself to the floor, and spreads her hands in front of her, prostrating herself before me. That, too, seems mocking. “I am your servant, after all.”
Her words ring with falsehood, but even though I know she’s trying to placate me, they temper some of the rage running rampant through me. I curl my fingers, the tips of my nails slicing into my skin. The pain doesn’t ground me tonight, though. Not like it usually does.
Still, Alette is right. High priestess or not, she is my servant, as is every other fucking person in this kingdom. They all bow before me, because I am their undisputed king.
She remains prostrated in front of me for several minutes, waiting for me to give her leave to rise. I wait until I’m certain she’s been reminded of who she’s speaking to before I eventually say, “The girl.”
Alette lifts her head, although she remains on the ground. “The Marked One?”
“Who else?” I snarl.
That fucking girl is all I can think about, all that occupies my mind. The glow of her Mark, the sparks that had flitted around her hand after the Winter’s Eve Ball, the fire that should have beenmine.
That too-familiar rage burns in my chest, echoed by Shadow’s fury. We have been bonded for so long, we are practically one.
Alette tilts her head. “I thought you had a lead. You sent soldiers after her.”
I slam my fist down on the nearest pew. Crimson erupts from my palm in a burst, and the wood splinters. “They’re dead.”
Every single one, save a handful who disappeared.
“Oh, my. It sounds like you have quite the problem on your hands.”
My hackles rise at Alette’s tone, and I spin around. She remains on the ground, but the look in her eyes...
A growl rumbles through me, and I cross the space. I wrap my fingers around her neck, squeezing as I effortlessly lift her off the ground, her feet dangling. She is shorter than me, and without any magic running through her veins, she is no match for me.
“You forget your place, Head Priestess,” I snarl, digging my fingers into her neck.
She gasps.
“You may be able to commune with Esyn herself, but never forget which one of us holds the real power here. Do you think you are irreplaceable? I trained you to assist with the Harvest, taught you what needed to be done. I can do it again.”
My nails cut into Alette’s soft flesh, and she whimpers. Suns, even she, a beloved of Esyn, is so fucking weak. All magicless people are. Even the Inherited havenothingon me. Alette may have the ear of the gods, but I have something better: magic.
I am Blessed beyond measure, and my power is undisputed.
A blue tinge paints the head priestess’s lips, and her fingers rise, clawing at my arm as I hold her, suspended. “I’m sorry.” The words are little more than a hiss as they make it past her lips.
“What was that?” I loosen my grip on her throat slightly, shaking her as I do so.
“I apologize, Your Majesty.” She sucks in a breath, her lips regaining a touch of color. “Of course it’s a problem. How foolish of me to ever think otherwise. The girl must be found.”
I search the head priestess’s gaze for a long moment before removing my hand from her throat. She falls to the ground,fingers scrabbling at the stone as she drags in deep, gasping breaths.
