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I couldn’t push enough air into my lungs, couldn’t take my eyes off the blood-splattered floor, my nails digging into the edge of the bench.
Oh gods, what was this place?
“If you have any sort of plan, Anaria, now is the time to put it in motion.” Raziel stared straight ahead, his face expressionless. “Even though you carry his brother’s magic within you, Serpens will have limited uses for you. He’ll sell you to the highest bidder, if it suits him.”
My teeth clenched together. Whatever faint hope I’d been clinging to, died with Raz’s words.
This place would become my tomb.
Unless I took what was never meant to be mine.
They called me a thief? I would takeeverythingfrom them. I would take their thrones and their power and their riches. And when I was finished—I smiled vacantly up at the Shadow King—I would burn this place to the ground.
Then I would go to Tempeste and do the same.
There were two more killings before the Shadow King—my pretend father—descended the steps and offered me his arm. I swallowed hard when I took it, wondering if Lyrae and her sword were right behind me.
“You did well today, Anaria.” It could have been my imagination, but darkness hung around him, enveloping us in a chill cold that had nothing to do with the weather, and everything to do with the fact he was a fucking monster.
“I shall try my best to please you.” Verbatim, the bland answer I fed to the Mistress every day of my miserable life.
“See that you do. Now that I possess my brother’s magic, I will win this war. You shall help me, Anaria, in whatever way I require.” He tightened his grip on my arm, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise.
“And remember this…not all of them require you to be breathing.”
33
ANARIA
Iwas still nauseous when they locked me in my bedroom, though I scarcely cared. I flew across the room, dug out Torin’s note, scanned her words for anything I missed the first time, snorting at her instructions for me totrust Tavion Montgomery.
My guess was, I’d seen the last of him.
No, I had to claim the magic, and I had to do itnow.
Everyone wanted to use me, as a symbol, or a vessel, or a bartering chip, which was why I was free, instead of rotting in a dungeon somewhere while they figured out how to carve this magic out of me.
Raziel was right.
I had to make a move.
Claiming the magic was the only way to survive this fucked up situation, before the Shadow King used me in his war.
Or Solok dragged me back to Caladrius to complete the ritual.
If I was powerful, I could protect myself.
I wouldn’t needanyone.
Wouldn’t end up like Adele. Or on a table with Solok and his whip. Or the Fae King and his knife.
But if I gave up my innocence…the power would become mine, according to Adele. True, I’d be giving up something irreplaceable, but I’d be gaining something invaluable.
Something no one could take away.
I liked that idea. Of owning something so completely, it was beyond everyone’s reach.
Now the only question was who I’d choose.
