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“No,” I answered. “No, I saw nothing. She’s only twenty-four years old. It could be months before her full powers manifest, along with her vampyre cravings.”
My father’s eyes became narrow slits of untrusting light. “It appears you two have gotten close. Closer than merely allies to gain entry to The Golden City.”
“I’m just doing my job.” I kept my voice even, bored. I flipped my hand over on the armrest of my chair and surveyed the skin around my nails. “She trusted me to get her here, did she not?”
A long silence rang through the throne room. I forced myself to sit still, to not squirm beneath the angelic power.
Most others feared my father. As one of three archangels serving under the goddess, he possessed more power than any angel or fae could fathom. He could do whatever he wanted, could control anyone or anything.
And he loved control.
Me? I feared him too, but not as much as I despised him. Ever since he turned me into this—this fallen angel, this vampyre—I saw him for what he really was.
Evil.
“She cares for you,” he continued.
Still, I remained silent.
“But your mission is not over. Your orders were to deliver her and convince her to help us rebuild Scarlata Empire. That cannot happen if she is not willing.”
“She needs time,” I argued. “You’re keeping her locked away like a prisoner after she found out she was betrayed by the one person she—” I stopped myself before I could say more.The one person she loved.
My father huffed and nodded. “Feelings like that don’t just disappear, son. If she cared for you before, there’s a chance she still does.”
I raised an eyebrow, feeling a fresh wave of her emotions. “I seriously doubt that.”
He waited a few moments, tapping his finger against the armrest of his velvet throne before pushing himself to his feet. “A simple test won’t hurt.”
He smiled and my stomach sank.
“What test?”
He was already heading toward the long corridor that led to her cell. “Follow me. Luseyar, you too.”
Luseyar, my father’s errand man, immediately stepped in line. I pushed myself up as well, following closely behind both of them as the smell of cherries grew thicker and thicker.
When we turned the final corner to her cell, I balled my fists, piercing my skin with my nails to keep my face straight.
Don’t react. Show no signs of attachment.
“What the fuck do you want?” Huntyr asked. Her words were powerful, but her voice was tired and dry.
My father tsked. “This will be simple. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and if you refuse to answer, your friend will be punished.”
What the—
Luseyar gripped me by the arm and shoved the handle of his sword into my back until I was forced to my knees just before Huntyr’s cell.
Then I felt the cool blade at the back of my neck.
Any other sword would not scare me, but Luseyar’s weapon was not one forged by fae or men. This light-omitting weapon was forged by the goddess herself and could end my life in a fraction of a second.
I froze but kept my gaze down. Huntyr moved in front of me, scrambling to her feet.
“You think I care what happens to your son?” She spit the words out like poison. “He betrayed me. Hurt him all you want. I’m not telling you anything.”
A ripple of pain fluttered through our bond. Her pain. It would be nearly impossible to keep her walls up while she was this weak, while I was this close.
