Page 216
Rae belonged to us.
We belonged to her.
When the guards dragged Rae to the slab, the triplets moved to get a better view, dropping their barrier. So when Rae begged for our help, Zeke started to move—until fear became his new restraint.
I’d heard Cyn’s whispered warning, reminding Zeke what would happen if he interfered.
I knew if I broke rank, I wouldn’t be the only one to pay the price. I needed to protect my brothers, but I had to do something.
Rae went still, staring at the sky.
The moment she surrendered, a strange peace washed through me that I knew belonged to her. The fire I’d seen in her flickered out with the rattle of chains and a trail of tears.
The council encircled the ostentatious altar in a wide semicircle, ensuring the cameras and the elders on the platform had an unobstructed view.
Cornaith spread his arms, playing up his role for the camera. “Never have we seen a human bridge the gap between the planes in an attack on Elyrdin’s royal families before now. Multiple generations of our council have stood without human interference or detection.”
Rae closed her eyes when he stepped closer to the altar.
“And yet, this human thought to go after our most precious heirs. The princes of prophecy destined to lead Elyrdin into an era of prosperity unlike ever before.”
“He’s so full of shit,” Cyn muttered.
Ezra tucked his hands in his pockets—one of the few tells I’d learned to spot when he tried to hide his emotions.
Since I’d brought up Bondrot, I’d noticed a shift in his behavior.
Whenever Zeke mentioned Rae, unable to let her go, Ezra tensed. More than once, he’d had to leave the room. He knew the truth.
His father would kill his Nyrith, and he remained powerless to stop it.
If given the opportunity, would he give the bond a chance? I doubted it.
Ezra once said he doubted Cornaith would ever let him have privacy with a mate. Control over Ezra required control over his Nyrith too.
Rattling chains wrenched my attention back to the slab.
Rae twisted, jerking against her binds as the council raised their hands.
“With the payment of her crimes, this human will gift our people with another shard of infinite energy to see to a flourishing future. We thank you for your sacrifice for the people of Elyrdin.”
Cyn sneered, “Is he seriously fucking framing this as voluntary?”
“He’s twisting the narrative to alter the public’s perception of what’s happening,” Ezra said, voice low and measured.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Even if our people are incensed over a human infiltrating the infernal plane and harming us, many won’t accept an execution.”
Given how revered humans were among our people for sustaining our livelihoods, I understood why they wouldn’t want to witness a human’s death firsthand—but banishment could be a fate worse than death if the banished didn’t make it past Feranzis or Moicae to whatever lay beyond.
Ezra watched his father with contempt in his eyes. “By framing her punishment as a willing gift of her soul to Kalthea, Father turns her into a symbol of loyalty. If she’s accused of terrorism, he casts it as her accepting this fate.”
I glanced at the edges of the clearing where the council’s barrier held strong.
The lost souls of Cholian—those rumored to wander without purpose—approached the barrier’s edges. Without the magical barrier, their cries would drown out Cornaith’s melodramatic monologue.
Rae’s mouth opened in a silent scream as powerful energy filled the air.
