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“If we are one second late, I will be sure to tell the king who made us so.”
41
ANARIA
My blood still boiled from watching the soldiers throw Raziel to the ground, my hands curling into his arm, tighter than necessary.
They didn’t even hurt any more, and I glanced up at Raz’s stern face. I’d sensed him feeding magic into me, even though he hadn’t said a word.
With only half the iron tamping down my magic, power boomed inside me, power stoked by how roughly they treated him, the utter disrespect the guards showed him, because some asshole had welded some iron around his neck.
He only grew tenser as we made our way through the outskirts of the city, the Keep looming over us like some ever-present sentinel.
“I think…”
“Not here. Wait until we get somewhere private.” Raziel looked straight ahead, his dreadful collar dust covered, a streak of blood on his cheek. Only a drop, but enough my heart squeezed tight.
The sight of it made the bustling crowd around us vanish, leaving only my seething anger. No, I didn’t like him being hurt.
Not one bit.
I’d used him and I owed him an apology.
I would grovel on my knees, and maybe…if I was lucky, he’d understand.
Most—allof what we’d shared last nighthadbeen real. Real enough I ached to hunt down the soldier who’d hurt Raz and make him pay. Real enough my heart had jumped into my throat when I’d come around that corner on the horse and seen him again.
He’d been magnificent and how he’d looked at me…
As if I was the only thing that mattered.
We crossed beneath the sharp points of the portcullis, Raziel never faltering, even when people turned and pointed as we passed. I could well imagine why, and I wouldn’t let him falter.
He was better than any of these vultures.
I chewed the inside of my mouth and snuck a look at his face as we strode up to the front of the Keep. There were so many things I had to tell him.
My brother and I…we have existed since this world was born. I’ve made kings, then killed them when they’d outlived their usefulness, as the Fae King and his brother have outlived theirs. You, Anaria, are the oppressed. Will you rise up and rule, or be forgotten like the millions who came before you?
The Oracle wanted chaos. She wanted this world to burn. The magic wanted destruction as well, given how often I’d dreamed of fire and ash, since crossing over and killing a hundred males in one blow.
If I did not deliver her war, she would find someone who would.
The real question was, who was the Oracle’s brother?
The Keep smelled of fear and nervous sweat, no surprise, since we were greeted by Crux and Lyrae. They were positioned inside the main doors, which meant they’d beaten us here, but only by a few minutes, given the faint sheen of sweat gleaming on Crux’s brow as he blocked our path.
“No slaves allowed.”
I’d never seen them this close before, though I’d never underestimate their quickness with a knife, not after attending two audiences filled with unnecessary beheadings.
Crux was a bull of a male, his barrel chest covered in thick armor, a thick neck rising above massive shoulders. His face was crude, flat, with black, deep-set eyes, unadorned ears poking out from hair that was neither dark nor light. He was a battering ram, lacking any sort of finesse, and not one bit of morality.
Lyrae, on the other hand, was stunning. She was elegantly built, her blue-black hair gathered back from her face, her light blue eyes rimmed with black lashes. She was as High Fae as I’d ever seen, her skin glowing faintly, as if sprinkled with moondust.
“Raz was just escorting me home from my riding lesson.” I matched Lyrae’s confident posture, raked her leather and metal attire with the same cold appraising gaze she’d leveled at me. I would not mind having something similar, those pants would make moving easier, especially riding and fighting.
“It is so kind of you to greet us. I don’t believe we’ve been formerly introduced?” I raised an eyebrow. They could strut and posture or they could obey, and right now, I was itching for a fight. Raz knew it and traced his finger along the inside of my arm, a clear warning for me not to pursue this.
