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No, that was a lie—I wasdefinitelygoing to be sick.
I lurched to the side, as far as my chains would allow and I dry-heaved.
“You are not going to vomit,” Aurelius commanded, his voice conjuring my attention. I just barely caught the flash of light as it passed over his glowing eyes. As if he had snapped his fingers and performed some type of magic trick, my stomach instantly settled.
The feel of my body bowing to his will . . . it was not unfamiliar.
How many times had he done that to me before?
“That’s better,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t want you to ruin my furs.”
I glanced down at the furs, but my thoughts were nowhere near them. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Kill the king.”
“Ah,” he said. “When I returned and found out that the king had thrown you into the Well even though I had instructed the stupid mortal not to touch a pretty white hair on your head, I decided his usefulness had come to an end.” He paused for a moment. “That is the problem with mortal kings, is it not? When they are given too much power, they forget their place is beneath us immortals, not above. It is a testament of their small, feeble minds.” Aurelius sighed. “I do not know why the Creator gave me the ability to command the actions of Gods and Demi Gods, but not the lowly mortals. Alas, it has come in handy, especially with you—many times over.” He raised the goblet and drank, his throat bobbing.
I made a face, but the unease in my stomach did not return, which meant that Aurelius’s command was still holding. I had broken free from it once before—that night in the pool when he told me not to move. But what I felt back then was different from now—the weight his words carried. They seemed heavier now, like an anchor holding me down. Which meant that Aurelius was stronger than before. Was his power returning to him, or had that been a lie too? Just another part of the show? It made me wonder how much of what he’d told me was untrue.
“You said that you wanted to do something beneficial for the people of Edenvale. Was that true? Or was that a lie?”
“Of that, I meant every word,” he answered in his poised, regal tone. “This mortal continent has been plagued with the children of the Old Gods ever sinceyoustole them from my dungeons and brought them here. Instead of being rid of the infection, your defiance has allowed it to spread.” White lashes lowered, sweeping over high cheekbones as he glanced down atthe goblet. “It would seem you are doomed to repeat yourself, Moonbeam. Nonetheless, I will rectify your mistakes and do what the mortal kings of Edenvale have failed to do—I will wipe the Cursed from these lands. And then I will Cleanse them from the Living and Immortal Realms too.” He finished off the goblet and set it down on the bedstand, a metallicthunksounding. His gaze returned to mine. “And now, I havethe meansto do it.”
I gasped as I realized whatmeanshe was referring to . . .
The unresponsive soldiers. That was how he was going to do it.
It also explained why they didn’t move. They were not made of mortal bone and flesh—they wereDemi Gods—under his control,commandedto stand there like that.
“How are there so many?” I asked, shaking my head when I recalled the silent army, standing row by never-ending row. There had been so many of them . . .
“Must I explain to you how children are made, Aurelia? We attempted many, many, many times in the past.” His lips curled coyly.
But his words were lost to me. My mind was racing, clicking a thousand pieces together at an unfathomable speed. The women who were being conscripted, the healers, the sudden increase in female souls that were being collected—it all made sense now.
When I had dinner with Aurelius, the man next to him had inquired about his brother. Aurelius not only remembered the man’s brother, but he immediately askedhowthe brother’s wife was doing. When he found out that she was ill and pregnant with child, herequestedher to be brought here immediately.
“You are using women tomakeDemi Gods for you?” I snapped, cinching the chain taut as I surged forward. The chains rattled, giving me less than a few inches. Anger pumped into my veins, filling them up, until they felt ready to burst through my skin.
“I use the humans as breeding stock, yes. Despite what your mortal-sympathizing mind believes, they are truly no different than cattle.” His shoulders performed a careless shrug, so small I nearly missed it. “I did it in our past life, as well, unbeknownst to you.”
Betrayal pressed down on my shoulders, my heart—but it was nothing compared to the wrath I felt. I turned molten hot, screaming, “They aredyingbecause of you!”
The chains groaned as I pulled against them. The cuffs bit into my wrists, sinking like teeth, biting into my flesh.
I didn’t care—I was feral and filled with rage.
“Calm yourself,” he commanded, a wave of light passing over his glowing eyes.
Instantly, the fire in my veins was doused out. My body went slack, bowing to his will, as if I were nothing more than a child’s useless doll, forgotten in the street.
He continued, “Many of them die, yes. Their too-small bodies were never intended to carry immortals. However, my divinity makes the children incredibly strong. We found that by feeding them a semi-solid tissue found in the bones of the Cursed, it accelerates their ability to grow at an unfathomable speed. Within a year, they are adults. Miraculous, really. Although I will admit, it’s a bit of a bloody affair to get the marrow out, and it must be extracted when the Cursed are alive, but it’s a small trouble considering the end result.”
I was transported back to the Well, covering my ears and trying to block out the screaming of the prisoners that were dragged to the floor above us. There had been blood—so much bloodthat it rained down in some parts. I’d thought they were being tortured, but now . . .
“That’s what they are doing with the Cursed from the Well.”
