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The glint in his eyes. He knows. He fucking knows. He just doesn’t knowwho,exactly, can aid him.
“The buzz of a necromancer has been zinging through The Monarchy for weeks. If the fuckers from the Basilica Realm are here for something, it’s for that reason alone,” Rhys states, sending a shiver down my spine as I feel both of my parents’ eyes spin to me. I don’t pay them any mind, though. I keep my gaze locked on Rhys’s as my veins burn with the reality I’m now facing.
The undertone of Erikel’s threat is clear. Either the necromancer steps forward, or people start to die. Do I want that on my shoulders?
“You can’t heal a dead man,” someone hollers from another table, earning a thrum of murmurs of agreement along with it.
Erikel chuckles like he was waiting for such a blatant statement. We’re playing directly into his hands, just like he wants.
“I believe your statement to be true. That is, unless you’re a necromancer.”
I try not to react, but my muscles stiffen at the way the word sounds on his tongue.
“A necromancer? There is no such magic here,” someone else adds, and as much as I try to keep my chin up, it’s harder than I expect.
“You’re wrong. My little soul dancer has until the count of ten to make a decision before the next victim feels the wrath of my warrior.”
Fuck.
“Release the magic holding our feet, otherwise no one can help,” Rhys declares, turning his attention to Erikel with a sigh.
“Ah, The Monarchy finally speaks. How delightful. Aren’t you going to challenge me?”
“I don’t think that would be wise of me, do you? I think it’s clear to everyone here you have us at your mercy,” Rhys replies, cocking a brow at the villainous man who sneers with his chest puffed out, pride clinging to every inch of him.
“Ten… Nine… Eight…”
He doesn’t even bother to reply to Rhys, redirecting his attention to hunting down the necromancer. Huntingme.
“Hmm, what can we do to incentivize our ultimate healer? Maybe we should bring a victim forward for our warrior to cut down, make the situation all the more real? ” Everyone remains silent except for the sound of metal clanging along the floor as the golden warrior steps forward. “Seven… Six… Five… Hmm, maybe we should have him kill his own son. You, step forward,” he snarls at Creed, and a moment later, the weight holding my feet in place is lifted.
My eyes dart to Creed, who takes a tentative step forward, and I do the same, trying to stop him even though he’s farther around the table, but Brax’s arm around my waist stops me in my tracks.
“Let me go,” I bite under my breath as Brax pins me to him.
“Who wants to see my fearsome warrior slay his own son? Four… Three…”
“Let me go right now, Brax. He’s here for me.”
“You’re right, he’s here for you, but that doesn’t mean he gets to have you.”
My breathing hollows out as panic dances over my skin, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I won’t let him kill Creed.”
“Raven…” My mother’s voice cuts through the air, barely more than a whisper, but it’s enough to interrupt Brax and me.
My gaze locks with hers for the briefest of moments, an array of emotions flashing in her eyes before pain stains her pupils to almost black.
“No takers? Have it your way, then. Stand right here for me. We want to make a show of this,” Erikel instructs Creed, who looks directly at me as he follows the order. He shakes his head ever so slightly, but he must be confused as fuck if he thinks I’m just going to let this happen.
I’m not a savior. I’m not a hero, and I have no intention of being one. I’m selfish. I’m greedy. But most of all, I’m in love. With Creed. With Eldon. With Zane. With Brax. And no man, woman, nor beast is going to take what belongs to me. I will slay every other fucker here. I don’t care. Just not them.
“It’s me.” Brax’s arm tightens as the words pass my lips, but there’s no taking them back now. Not as Erikel stares at me with excitement, even through the hint of caution that flickers across his face. “I’m the necromancer,” I add, tilting my chin up as I lock eyes with him.
“Are you? Or do you not want to see this boy’s blood painted across the floor?”
Shaking out of Brax’s hold, I take a step toward the podium, moving past my parents, who keep their mouths shut aseveryone’s gaze follows my every move. I don’t stop until I’m beside Creed, my hand blindly finding his through the haze.
“You’re here for me.” The words are like lead on my tongue.
