It was the following afternoon—or was it early evening? I couldn’t be sure.
Sunlight had filled the windows when I fell asleep, and it was there once more upon waking.
I hadn’t dreamt of Ash again or the lake. I hadn’t dreamt at all.
Now, I was seated at the small dining table, staring at the platters of food.
A bowl of soup and a heaping plate of eggs and crisp vegetables had been brought to me earlier, but an entire feast had been laid out now—beef, chicken, and roasted duck, sitting among bowls of vegetables and fruits dusted with sugar. There were also pitchers of three different types of refreshments. Another line of quiet, veiled Chosen had served the food while Callum supervised. Then, the Chosen left.
Callum did not.
He sat in the sitting area outside the cage, reading a book, and all I could think about was the Chosen he’d so callously and cruelly murdered.
My fingers tightened around my fork as I pictured myself plunging the sharp tines deep into his throat. A small smile tugged at my lips. Harming Callum wouldn’t help me gain Kolis’s trust, but I had told him I would kill him.
And I would honor that promise somehow.
As I forced my hold on the fork to loosen, I thought of what Aios had said about how Kolis’s favorites were treated. Few were allowed to interact with them. For Callum to be in here several times now—alone—it had to signify something about him. No other Revenant spent any time in here.
My gaze flicked from the Revenant to the doors. When they were open, I’d seen two guards framing the entrance. I recognized the dark-haired one.
I had no idea where Kolis had disappeared to after reiterating his promise to make my life—and apparently, my afterlife—a living nightmare.
He’d promised to take my soul, just as he’d done with Eythos.
As I shuddered, I couldn’t help but wonder where, exactly, he kept his brother’s soul. Probably somewhere disturbing.
Either way, I wasn’t foolish enough to hope he’d freed Ash while he was away. The deal only went into play once he was sure I hadn’t lied. How he planned to go about determining that was anyone’s guess.
I picked at my food, my normally voracious appetite nearly nonexistent.
My stomach was still churning; and dealing with Kolis had been like messing around with a caged pit viper. It was exhausting.
As was becoming the blank canvas and staying that way. Both had played a role in how easily and deeply I’d fallen asleep again. I’d slept on the divan once more, unable to bring myself to sleep on the bed.
“You should eat,” Callum advised, breaking the silence. “It will please His Majesty.”
I rolled my eyes, wishing the meat hadn’t been precut and a knife was available. I would’ve thrown it at the Revenant.
Which was likely why there were no knives.
“This is far too much food for one person to eat,” I pointed out as I plucked a bread crumb from the lap of the ivory gown I’d found in the chest. It was constructed the same as the one I’d worn yesterday, except it included a golden rope as a belt.
“Is it?”
Eating a piece of broccoli, I looked over at him. “I think the answer to that is obvious.”
Callum only shrugged in response.
I watched him as I chewed the buttery vegetable. “Do Revenants not eat?” I frowned, remembering I’d seen no pointy teeth on the bastard. But from personal experience, I knew fangs weren’t needed to drink. “Or do you need blood?”
Callum flipped the page of his book. “That’s a rude question.” “Is it?” I parroted his comeback from earlier.
A faint smile appeared. “Revenants do not need food or blood.”
I ate a piece of chicken seasoned with some sort of spice. “So, if you don’t need food or blood, what do Revenants need?”
“Revenants are in need of nothing.”
“Nothing? That doesn’t…” I trailed off, understanding dawning. “It’s because you’re already dead.”
“Well, that was also a rude assessment,” he responded. “Do I look deceased to you?”
He looked rather healthy. “No.”
“Then there’s your answer.” He returned to reading.
“That’s not an answer.”
He sighed heavily as he turned another page. “Are you unable to see me?” I frowned. “That’s another question that should have an obvious answer.”
“I ask because you must be experiencing vision issues,” he replied. “Since you clearly cannot tell I’m trying to read.”
Smartass.
My fully functioning eyes narrowed. “What are you reading?”
Callum’s lips pursed as he looked up from his book, his head listing to the side.
“If you answer my questions, I’ll shut up.” I picked up a chalice full of fruity water, wondering exactly how mad he or Kolis would be if I threw it at the Revenant’s head.
“That seems highly unlikely.”
It was. “To become a Revenant, you must die—like the soul leaves the body and all that. Correct?” I pressed. “That’s why Kolis didn’t attempt to save me by turning me into a Revenant.”
“That would be correct.”
Wait. The way he’d been answering these questions… He’d only referred to himself once, asking if he looked dead, but when he answered the other questions, he never referred to the Revenants as we. “Were you once
Chosen?”
“Was I a Chosen?” Callum’s nose wrinkled as if he smelled something rotten. “Not exactly.”
What did that mean? “The woman I saw feeding. She was a Chosen, though.”
“I believe that has already been established.” “But you’re not like her.”
Callum’s laugh was airy. “Obviously.”
“Are all the Revenants like you?” I asked.
Callum scoffed. “There are no Revenants like me.” I rolled my eyes then. “How many are there?”
He said nothing.
Frustration rose, but I changed tack. I was more likely to get an answer if it was directly related to him. “I was under the impression that very few would be allowed in here without Kolis in attendance, but here you are.”
“Because I’m special.”
“Really,” I replied dryly, extending the middle finger of the hand that held the flute.
Callum grinned. “I am the first.”
I halted, the glass halfway to my lips. I hadn’t been expecting that, and I wasn’t even sure why. Everything had a first. “And how did you end up so
lucky?”
“You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” “Wouldn’t you?” I countered.
Closing his book, he set it aside as he laughed under his breath. “No, I would be smart and stay quiet.”
“Ah, yes, not asking questions and keeping oneself in the dark and without any understanding of those around them is so very clever.”
Callum smirked. “Well, we will see just how clever you are shortly.” The tasty water soured in my stomach. “And how is that?”
“When Kolis discovers whether or not you are who you say you are.”
Callum leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “If you’re not, I imagine your death will be a painful one.”
“And if I am?” I challenged. “Then what do you imagine?” “You already know what I imagine.”
I did. “Eventually, Kolis will grow tired of me. Whether it takes weeks, months, or years.”
He nodded. “You’re only an inconvenience.” “I’d rather be that than an ass-kisser.”
“Charming,” he murmured.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him in the way I did that used to irritate my mother, wide and brightly. Based on his stiffness, I knew it had the same impact on him. Hiding a grin, I leaned back in my chair, deciding I was in the mood to be annoying. “So, what’s up with the masks?”
“What about them?”
“Why is it always painted on your face and the other Revenants, those not as special as you?” Ash had told me the wings were silver when his father
was the Primal of Life, but I hadn’t gotten the impression that everyone ran around with the masks painted on their faces when he ruled. “And on the
guards.”
He stretched an arm over the back of the settee. “They are symbolic.”
“No shit,” I muttered, quickly swallowing. The tender beef tasted… different. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but yuck. I washed the lingering taste away with a gulp of water.
“It symbolizes that we serve the true King of Gods and are created in his image.” His fingers tapped.
“And who would that be?” He chuckled. “Cute.”
I ignored that. “I’m guessing the golden wings are supposed to mimic
Kolis when he is in his true form?” Callum nodded.
“But I’ve seen him in his true form,” I said. “He’s nothing but bones.” The Revenant’s fingers stilled.
“I’m also guessing that’s due to what remains of the last true embers of death in him,” I surmised.
“You’ve seen him like that?” Callum asked. I nodded.
A slow smile spread across his lips, one that caused my skin to prickle with wariness. “Then you’ve seen death,” he said. “True death. No one sees that and lives very long afterward.”
My stomach twisted as our stares locked. “You don’t scare me.” Callum laughed. “But he does.”
 |
When Callum returned on what I could only assume was the following day, a bath had been prepared. Which was routine, but after I bathed, a Chosen entered the cage with a swath of sheer material that shimmered like liquid gold in the chandelier’s light.
The quiet Chosen had dressed me, then brushed my hair until it gleamed, sweeping it up with delicate pearl pins like my mother often wore in hers.
Rouge was then applied to my cheeks and lips.
Then, she left.
And Kolis arrived.
While he was dressed as usual, a crown I hadn’t seen on him when Ash and I came to Dalos now sat upon his head. It was so golden and bright I couldn’t make out much detail at first, but the longer I stared, the more I saw.
The crown of gold was fashioned into a row of nine swords, each tip bearing a glittering diamond. The center spike was a sun made of more diamonds.
The Primal of Life’s crown was the opposite of the Primal of Death’s, yet they were identical. Day and night. Life and Death.
It was hard not to stare at it and think how it should rest on Ash’s head.
Yet seeing him in such, even in my imagination, didn’t feel right.
Kolis’s crown wasn’t the only thing on display.
So was I.
There’d been no more talk of discovering my secrets as he’d warned. He hadn’t mentioned Ash, and there hadn’t been time for me to even ask.
All he’d said to me was, “Do not engage with those who enter the chamber,” which was a clear warning. After that, between conducting the businesses of the King of Gods from where he sat upon his throne while staring at me—at certain parts of me—he was occupied.
Which was why I was dressed as I was, my hair styled in a way that provided an unobstructed view of everything the gown revealed.
The same brown-haired guard I’d seen during my escape attempt escorted the gods into the chamber. I’d discovered his name was Elias. I remembered it because he was the only one whose gaze never strayed in my direction.
The gods who were brought in often looked, no matter their gender, as they informed Kolis of the requests being made at the Sun Temples. Many of their stares were full of curiosity. Some carried the glint of want I was beginning to recognize in Kolis’s eyes.
It was nothing like what I saw in Ash’s gaze. His had been full of want and need, but there had also been tenderness, yearning, and much respect, reverence, and passion. A fondness and devotion that could’ve grown into love if he had his kardia.
The gods’ stares reminded me of my stepbrother’s—full of the desire to consume. To dominate without deference. To have for the sake of having
because I’d been prepared to be pleasing to the eye and displayed in a gilded
cage.
I hoped their eyes exploded from their heads.
Along with Kolis’s.
The only reason I sat through it all like a quiet, caged bird was because of Ash. The deal. Once Kolis was convinced that I was who I said I was, he would release his nephew. But I needed to be careful. While Primals couldn’t break their oaths, they often found ways to make you regret gaining their promises. There were things Kolis could do while still honoring what he’d pledged. But I couldn’t let myself think about that or allow my imagination to run wild.
Because I realized something as I sat there. I hadn’t been clever enough to clarify what state Ash should be in when he was released.
As Callum would say, I behaved myself as the meetings went on, and Kolis began to change.
He grew tense, fidgety, even. His stares became…more. Longer. Heavier.
His grip on the arms of the throne got tighter, the ick-factor of his gaze stronger.
Which was why I ignored Kolis and the leering gods for the most part, so bored out of my mind that I spent an ungodly length of time staring at the cluster of diamonds at the center of the cage bars, wondering why Kolis would even put them there. Like, what was the point? I had no idea.
I learned that each of Kolis’s gods represented different cities within the mortal kingdoms. And every time a new one entered, I paid attention just long enough to learn where they were from. None had come from Lasania.
I looked up as the god before Kolis droned on about offerings. My eyes narrowed slightly when I found his gaze on me. His stare held the same
qualities as the ones who’d come before him. Want for the sake of wanting,
which could also be translated into taking for the sake of it. Sighing, I shifted
my focus to the open doors. I could only see Elias’s shoulder and the arm of another guard. What was his name? He had only stepped foot into the chamber a few times, and when he did, he had a certain stillness about him that reminded me of Callum.
I rose, going to the table where I poured myself a drink of the bubbly water. Today, it carried a hint of pineapple.
“Do you find her distracting?” Kolis asked suddenly.
I stopped, pitcher half-lowered, and looked up to see the sandy-haired god jerk his attention back to the Primal.
“You’ve been paying more attention to her than you have to me.” Kolis’s grip on the throne arms loosened. “I don’t believe you’ve taken your eyes off her since the moment she rose.”
“I apologize, Your Majesty,” the god replied, clearing his throat. “I have been distracted.”
“By her?” Kolis prodded.
The god glanced at me again and nodded.
Kolis’s head cocked. “What is it about her that you find so distracting?”
The handle of the pitcher dug into my palm. Could it be that my gown was transparent?
“She is…interesting to look upon,” the god answered.
“Interesting?” Kolis questioned. “Please elaborate, Uros.”
The god’s stare lowered, lingering on my chest. “She is pleasing to the eye.”
“Which parts?”
I flipped my stare to the Primal. Was he seriously asking that?
“Many parts,” Uros answered, looking at Kolis before continuing. “Her shape.”
Do not engage with those who enter the chamber, I reminded myself as I placed the pitcher back on the table before I launched it through the bars— something I didn’t think Kolis would appreciate. Plus, it would be a waste.
The water was tasty.
“And?” Kolis smiled at the god, but there was an edge to it. A tension that hardened his jaw.
Uros looked me over as he drew his lower lip between his teeth. “Her hips. They’re full and appear soft. The shadowy area between her thighs.”
My mouth dropped open.
Kolis raised his brows. “What about it?”
“I bet it is equally soft.” Uros’ stare was full of heat, and not in a good way. “And wet.”
“What the fuck?” I spat before I could stop myself.
Uros’ eyes widened. He obviously hadn’t expected me to speak. And I probably shouldn’t have. My question would likely be considered an act of engaging. But come on.
However, Kolis only chuckled. “I believe you may have offended her.”
Uros said nothing to that, not that he needed to. His thoughts were clearly visible to me in the slight curve of his lips. He didn’t care if I was offended and likely didn’t believe I was worthy of worrying about such a thing.
“Are you?” Kolis asked, and it took me a moment to realize that he was speaking to me. “Are you offended?”
Who wouldn’t be? But if I were insulted by this god, then it meant his words or opinions mattered to me.
And they didn’t.
“No.” I took a sip of the water as I met the god’s gaze. “Mostly, just unimpressed.”
Kolis snorted as the god’s cheeks bloomed pink. I turned, heading back to the divan.
“The thing is,” Kolis began, “you have offended me.”
I turned to sit at the wrong time. Or maybe at exactly the right time. Regardless, doing so at that moment gave me a front-row seat to what happened next. Kolis turned his head to Uros and flashed that tight smile again.
He then lifted his right hand and flicked his wrist. Uros imploded.
It was like he was sucked into himself. His face caved in, the bones there crunching and then collapsing. His chest deflated as if air, blood, and all the necessary things held within the cavity had suddenly been removed. The
tunic he wore slipped down the chair as his shoulders and arms disappeared, pulled into the vortex of where his body used to be. The legs went next, and with one last meaty snap, nothing but bloodied linen and a few pieces of runny tissue remained.
It all happened so fast that the embers in me didn’t have much chance to do anything but pulse weakly at the death. My hands didn’t even warm.
Kolis looked over at me. “Do you find him more impressive in this state?”
I plopped down onto the divan, my mouth hanging open.
“I do.” Kolis raised a brow. “Simply because he takes up less space.” “You…you just turned him into goo,” I said.
“I did,” Kolis responded without hesitation. “Does that bother you?”
I blinked slowly. I’d seen Ash do something similar, but this was different. This was done merely over words spoken, ones Kolis had goaded the god into speaking. “He was only looking at me.”
Kolis went still. “Did you like him looking at you?”
“Not even remotely, but he wasn’t the only one to do so,” I said, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened and that incredibly idiotic question. “Many of the gods gawked at me.”
“But they were wise enough not to make it so obvious.” He tilted his head. “They may look at you, but they shouldn’t speak on it.”
“You made him talk about it.”
“I simply asked him questions,” he reiterated. “He chose to answer.”
That wasn’t exactly what had occurred. Kolis had basically hounded the god into answering. I glanced back at what was left of Uros, my stomach churning as the scent of iron and charged air reached me.
“That is so…gross,” I murmured.
“No hysterics?” Kolis remarked. “Only statements. That’s impressive.”
I was definitely disturbed by what I’d witnessed, so the lack of screaming and fainting upon seeing someone turned to goo should have probably concerned me.
“Elias?” Kolis called.
The god entered, his steps halting as he got an eyeful of the mess. He recovered quickly, though, faster than I, which could only mean he was accustomed to things such as this.
“Please, let Callum know the Sun Temple in…” Kolis frowned. “Wherever Uros was speaking of, is in need of a replacement.”
Elias nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty. Would you like me to send someone in to remove the mess?”
The mess?
I would call that more than a mess.
“Unnecessary.” Kolis waved his hand, and the chair and goo vanished like Uros, leaving only a faint cloud of dust swirling over the shadowstone tile. “Send the next one in.”
The god who entered kept his eyes fixed solely on Kolis. Clearly, after the last one didn’t exit the chamber, this one had figured out what had happened when he saw the empty spot. He paused for a moment, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. Without a word, he sat on the settee.
I perched on the divan, the drink in my hand mostly forgotten as I stared at where the chair had been. Having been raised to commit the most fatal sort of violence, I was accustomed to it. Part of me wished I weren’t, that something like what had just happened affected me more, but I didn’t see it as a weakness. It was a strength, especially now. Yet the way Kolis had handled things left me unsettled.
It was all a manipulation.
Kolis had me on display, daring those to look from the moment they entered the chamber. There was no rhyme or reason behind his judgment on how long was too long for them to do so. Uros was disgusting, and his comments crossed many lines, but they wouldn’t have been made if Kolis hadn’t manipulated him into it.
And why had he?
Did he have an issue with the god? Had he done it to prove a point and remind the other gods of his power? To remind me? Or was the reason the same as why Uros and the others found me so appealing?
I wasn’t that extraordinary to look upon, especially in the realm of the gods. Sure, some found my shape attractive and my features fine. Others felt there was too much of me and that my freckles were distracting. Either way, these gods took interest simply because they saw me as Kolis’s newest
favorite and knew I was untouchable. They wanted what they could not have. They desired because they could.
And Kolis had killed that god because he could.
Who would tell him he was wrong? After briefly speaking with him about it, I could see there would be no point in doing so. He did what he wanted and thought little of whether it was right or wrong.
I stared down at the delicate glass I held. What I didn’t get was the
purpose of…this. My claim of being Sotoria hadn’t been confirmed yet. Still, did he think dressing me this way, putting me on display, and then murdering a god would aid in fostering my love for him?
Then again, Kolis didn’t know what love was.
I’d been warned about what he and his Court were like. In fact, I’d already experienced it when Ash and I were here, so I shouldn’t—
“Prayers for a bountiful harvest and a calm winter were made. I know, a complete and utter surprise.” A goddess with long, dark hair and deep brown
skin read from a parchment, her inflection as she spoke making what she said
far more interesting than any of those who’d come before her. As did what had to be her additions to the requests. “Whiskey that I believe only tastes slightly like horse piss was left as an offering, as was a white bull that I suspect may have been painted to appear as such.”
Wait. What?
“There was also a branch from an oak tree.” Her pointy chin lifted, and light glanced off the gold shimmer of a sharp cheek. “I am not sure what one is supposed to do with a branch, other than mourn the senseless violence against the tree.” She paused, glancing over at the Primal.
Kolis was, yet again, staring at me.
She cleared her throat. “Kraig, with a…” She frowned. “With a K, wished only to speak poetically and at great length about his devotion to His Majesty, leaving a—”
“Enough,” Kolis barked, startling both the goddess and me. “Excuse me.” He rose, looking at me. “I will return shortly.”
The goddess turned from where she sat perched on one of the chairs, watching Kolis stalk from the chamber. Then she looked at me.
I shrugged.
Long, glossy hair slid over her shoulder as she cocked her head. Drawing her plump, red lip between her teeth, she glanced at the open door, and a hint of mischief flickered across her pretty face. Her form-fitting gown slid down the length of her long legs as she stood. Lowering the parchment to her side,
she approached the cage. Well, approached was too tame a word to describe how she moved.
The goddess prowled, clearly aware of how well the gown complemented her curves.
She came to a stop a foot from the bars. Under the softer glow of the light where I was, I saw that her gown was about as good at concealing her body
as mine and all the gowns I’d seen the other goddesses wear.
And I could safely say that her breasts were quite perky.
She grinned as she saw where my attention had gone. “Do you like
them?” she asked, her tone softly teasing. “I like yours. Perhaps not as much as dear Kraig with a K likes His Majesty, but I do find them quite enjoyable to look upon.”
I raised my brows, oddly entertained by the goddess. Her amber eyes were light, and she didn’t stare at me like the others.
Not that she didn’t look at me as if she wanted some alone time with no bars between us, because she did. But she didn’t leave my skin feeling like it was trying to detach itself from my body.
I quickly glanced at the doors, not seeing Elias or the other guards stationed out there. “What kingdom was this Sun Temple in?”
Surprise flickered across her face. “Oh, she speaks,” the goddess remarked, and my spine stiffened. “None have done so before.”
At the mention of Kolis’s other favorites, my amusement rapidly began to fade.
“But you are…different,” she added, lowering her voice. “There are rumors about you, you know. That you are the Shadowlands’ Consort.”
A prickly sensation rippled over my skin as I stared at her. This was the first indication beyond Phanos and Attes that others knew who I was, or what they may be thinking regarding my presence here. I wasn’t sure others were even aware of me, especially those who hadn’t seen me when I attempted to escape.
“The Sun Temple is located in the kingdom of Terra,” she answered in the silence.
My breath caught. Terra was a neighboring kingdom to Lasania, one that Ezra was in talks with. With the exception of the Undying Hills, much of
Terra was farmland. How had I missed this? I leaned forward. “Do you have any news about Lasania? Have you heard anything about them?”
Delicate brows furrowed. “You speak of the kingdom that makes me think of tasty, layered noodles and cheese?”
“It’s not pronounced—” I stopped myself with a curt shake of my head. “Yes, I’m speaking of that one.”
“Not particularly.” Disappointment swept through me.
“Though several of those who left offerings at the Sun Temple were from Lasania,” she said. “They mostly asked for good fortune with their work within Terra.”
Could that mean that Ezra had successfully strengthened the relationship between the two kingdoms? It must. Because while Terra had land, they didn’t have the labor Lasania did. A shudder of relief swept through me. “Thank you,” I said, sitting back.
The goddess started to speak.
“Dametria.” Elias filled the doorway, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword. I silently mouthed her name, committing it to memory. “Out.”
My eyes narrowed on the guard.
“I’m leaving,” the goddess said, returning her attention to me.
“It does not appear as if you’re doing so,” Elias pointed out. “His Majesty will return soon.”
“Yes. Yes. He will when he’s done pleasuring himself.” “Fucking Fates,” Elias muttered, and my lip curled in disgust. “At least that is what I expect he’s doing based on what I saw.”
Dametria’s voice lowered. “By the way, I know the rumors are true.”
I stilled.
“Dametria,” snapped Elias.
The goddess stepped back, her next words barely audible. “I was there when you were crowned.”
