Page 24 of Elysian

“Please, you have to help me.” Her fingers tangled with my sleeve.

I stilled while opposing emotions swelled and clashed. She had betrayed me so fundamentally that I could not help but want nothing to do with her. Then there was the other side. Pity and the affection I had for her.

After all, she was so incredibly young . . .

I fought the urge to hug her and assure her we would get out of this. On one hand, showing anyone, much less Vaner, that I cared for another person here would only give them more fodder to use against me. On the other hand, she had betrayed me. A stab in the back so succinct that she destroyed everything. If I had managed to escape that day, Piper would still be alive.

“Get me away from here. Please, Amara.” Tears glistened in her eyes.

I hesitated.

‘Do not think it.’

I clenched my teeth until it hurt.

‘If you attempt anything, we will be locked away. We will have a harder time escaping.’

I loathed that he made sense.

I released a slow breath and placed my hand over her wrist, pushing it off as I said, “You must endure.”

That was all I could give her. All I could muster. I straightened, trying to ignore the way she looked at me. Her lips opened and closed as if completely stunned by my response. I wanted nothing more than to give in to her pleas. But I would not risk worsening my case, not when I must find a way to escape. Her crestfallen expression seared itself in my mind.

“Wife!” Lord Cedric shouted.

I stepped back slightly to free the view to Miriam. Ida had moved more to Lord Cedric’s other thigh, which freed his arm enough to reach over and place his palm on my lower back. I tensed, studying slackened handsome features hosting a thin nose and golden locks.

“I heard this one was your lady’s maid. Mm, I can not wait to smell the full force of you Awakened.” He slid his palm down to my bottom and squeezed. My lips pulled tight.

“Do not!” Cassiel’s sudden and violent booming shout sliced through the merriment.

Everything around us froze. The laughing, the slurping, the chatter—it all came to a standstill.

“You are much too young to understand, Lord Cedric, but you tempt death,” Vaner said, sounding more amused than concerned. “Warlords are especially . . . let’s say, possessive over redbloods. The first Warlord designation to appear nearly destroyed every blueblood in Oro before we put it down. Each time there has been an Awakened redblood near a Warlord, it maddens them.”

Lord Cedric put both hands up, eyes forming half-moons because of his wide smile. I had yet to look at Cassiel, but his silence seemed to pulse.

“Just like one of them Warlords from this batch, what was the name of the one we had to put down?” Lord Dillon slurred. I took the opportunity to take my leave. Each step I took away from Miriam dragged.

Vaner’s smile widened.

“Volcan.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “He had that Awakened redblood and cut down the Battalion I had sent to retrieve them.” He shook his head. “If only we did not have a need for Warlords at all.”

Since I faced Cassiel, I had a direct view of the tension compounding as his eyebrows drew tighter.

“Yet, we do, and His Highness has served as the perfect weapon,” the Southern Sycarious man to the other side of Lord Dillon’s wife said.

“Hear hear!” Lord Dillon shouted, holding up his tankard of mead.

Shouts of agreement hung over the crowd, then the chatter and merriment continued.

I bowed my head and returned to the spot beside Branwen. Vera had joined us on her other side. We stood, each holding the pitchers as they continued drinking and eating, increasingly becoming more and more inebriated. This was how they kept their power; each took control of different sections of Sycarious. Meanwhile, Vaner coordinated it all.

‘I will revel in their deaths.’ It was the first thing Cassiel had said in a while.

I scanned all the faces as it became chaotic, a sort of frenzy building in their energy. Most of the women seemed stoic, all except Miriam and the one at Lord Dillon’s side. Her eyes flicked from side to side often, and she kept shifting on her seat as if she might run at any moment.

“More, redblood,” Vaner called, snapping his fingers. I reached his side and poured. Branwen’s shout came from across the table. Another of the council seated at the other end had his hand on Branwen’s bottom, groping. Terror crossed her face. My fingers seized around the pitcher.