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Knowing she wasn’t alone in that dungeon, knowing Neo looked into the burden of her darkness and battled the Father so he could acquire a small chunk of her trauma and weigh it upon his shoulders, was the only reason she didn’t plunge headfirst into the demon spirit lake and let them drown her.
“Now, I’m losing him,” Bryony echoes, her cheeks blotchy from her tears. “What if he’s too far gone?”
“No…” I whisper and send her another little gold hydra to nudge her cheek. “If I delivered him from death, then I can deliver him from this…Scourge. And you delivered him first, Bryony. You and Nita and Kitty andeveryone,” I remind her of her victory through her vulnerability—vulnerability she has blessed upon me. Emotion wells up into my throat when I consider the first time I saw Bryony, how the guilt of forming a dragon—of all things!—had racked me before I’d chosen the truest, the best, the right symbol for Amanita and all her alters: the Hydra.
Bryony shakes her head. “You can never deliver him fromDeath, Elysia.”
“I have to believe he is still worthy of deliverance…underneath that mask.” I shudder, clenching my eyes, yearning so much to give him a new heart. But how?
As if the word “mask” is a positive trigger, Nita snaps her head up, stabs the air with her glittery black horns, and rises like the Hydra Queen she is until she faces me and clutches my hands, hands cold as frost. “You are worthy, too…sweet Ezer. Do not forget that. Stop your fussing. Let us to breakfast and then off to Court.”
Rubbing my lips together, I decide not to question her. A cold awareness deep within me registers that she won’t share whatever Neo said that led to her trigger. Nor do I want to unleash Bryony again.
Instead, I follow her to the Commons, where Quillion praises mine and Nita’s polar opposite gown styles and reads his celebrity news gossip like always. Nita drinks an extreme portion of blood, which surprises me, given how controlled she normally is. As much as I wish it didn’t haunt me, her generous appetite prickles my spine with suspicion. She’s strengthening herself. Why? What else has Neo planned?
None of us speak of what happened in the Commons, but anyone watching could tell how different our morning is. As if melancholia laces the entire room—a deep tristful blue that I may wade into.
Finally, after multiple delays on Nita’s part, Quillion stands and offers us both arms to escort us to Court. Whatever is happening in Nita’s multi-layered mind, I understand that this will be the most harrowing of Courts I will ever attend. The Prince of Destruction has planned something. And I can’t begin to imagine what.
A few minutes later, we enter the bone box, but Nita does not bid me to sit. Instead, she folds her hand into mine and leads me to the balcony so we may await the Prince. Something pulls in the back corner of my mind. Suspicion grows to apprehension.
Stealing the breath from my lungs, the doorway of our mental bond nudges open. It lures me in with soothing, warm tendrils, welcoming me into an encroaching darkness that feels feverish—like a plague of flames and sulfur ready to strike at my heart. Today, he will wear the Dragon mask, and I find myself saying countless breath prayers even as I squeeze Nita’s hand and elevate my chin, but not higher than hers.
To my greatest surprise, Nita flinches when the Prince plummets onto the edge of his throne in full diamonded armor. Not crouching but standing with a scarlet cape plunging to the floor where I imagine it will become my seat any moment. Surely, he will want to debase me to the floor beneath him as he did before.
For now, Neo inspects his Court, cunning eyes severe and honed as his vampire bone scythes. I’d shudder if I hadn’t seen it so many times—if I was not bound to him in flesh, blood, and heart. No, not heart. I blink back tears.
The arena is packed to the brim with a majority of vampires but also humans, all of whom kneel before him; he planned for an audience. Lament engulfs me when he finally casts his gaze to us, to me—those double blades prepared to cut me a million times.
“Sit.”
His Court immediately obeys, lowering themselves in submission, but Nita does not. Nor does he force her to. I glance behind me to an un-punctual Lux sitting nearby, garbed in nothing more than white and gold body paint, a few silvery slips of fabric around her sex and breasts—and her catastrophe of stolen marks. A bride’s veil shrouds her eyes. But a serpentine grin slides along her lips. She blows me a kiss right before the Prince’s shades bind a strong tether around my waist—and wrench me from the platform to deposit me directly into the Inner Circle!
I double over, breathless, the wind knocked out of me.
A wave of ice shoots up my spine. A hush falls over the crowd as Neoptolemus overthrows my body with his towering shadow and targets my eyes like the perfect predator. I cannot hope to escape him. I understand why I am here: he’s going to settlemyaccount.
“Bride Lys Spirit!” His voice is a thundering war drum calling out my faux name—another nail he can drive into my coffin. Another way to deny me my royal heritage and prepare me for whatever debasement he has in store. I flinch but grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes when the Prince seizes my throat to collar me while he grits his teeth and barks, “You have committed a grievous transgression against the crown by withholding your flesh and blood inmybed. Now, you will pay the price in Court!” He retrieves a long whip of corded black leather.
Panic burns a hole right through my stomach. The serpents storm the avenues of my throat, biting, biting, biting. Pain rockets into my neck!
No, Neo, no!I cry out through our bond, hurling throwing stars of angel light to battle him.
In our mental link, those throwing stars soar across the drawbridge toward his mighty Dragon flying around his fortress. He evades every one and growls deep from within his chest, his throat igniting with molten flames. Though he winces within that bond, that dark force, he roars and beats his wings, prowess remaining strong. When I try again, his horns carve every last star in half, shattering them like fire crystals.
“As this is your first offense, I will reduce your punishment to ten lashes.” He stands straight and tall, back as high as a throne, as if imparting some mercy. “Now,kneelbefore me, my bride.”
He releases my throat. I want to fall flat on my face. If only I could rise above the pain and become nothing more than a numb, lifeless statue. I’ve never managed it. Not even on my longest night of Noralice. Otherwise, it would be a betrayal of my heart—tonotfeel the pain. Instead, I created Empath Elysia, who could pity the vampires, longing to serve them with her blood. But right now, I hold her back, refusing to give her a foothold. That night was different. My relationship with Neo is different. Ourbondis stronger.
What had Thanatos said? If I wish to be raised higher, I must learn how to kneel? Rage clouds my vision to scarlet.HELL NO! My breath escapes in whirlwinds of gusts, timed to my heaving chest. I refuse to believe this is what he meant. I am Ezer. I am a Princess. I am the Halo-Bearer.
I wasnotcreated for abuse! No one is.
I was created for a crown of stardust and gold. I was created to be a shield and a warrioress of light. Sucking in deep breaths, I remember my vow as I walked down that aisle, my footsteps treading upon clouds and velvet night and starlight. I was created to be one flesh,notfor the degradation of my flesh.
When I do not kneel, when I thrust my chin up in assurance of my identity and zero in on his eyes, the entire arena detonates. Hosts of vampires rise to their feet in protests and contemptuous jeers—many calling for harsher punishments for my defiance to the highest authority of Prince in a land with no king. Each voice is a horn of destruction, and all I want to do is to clap my hands over my ears. Tears glisten in my eyes. No mercy. No forgiveness. No love anywhere.
Neo is the worst. Nothing but wrath and ruin in the Prince’s eyes when he leers down at me. Dragon fire, blood, and shades. Rattling me deep to my bones, he seizes my shoulders and drives me to the floor.
