Cressa wore a different gown, one the color of the peonies that had been scattered across the Sun Temple’s dais. Under the bright light of the chandelier, the fabric was nearly translucent. I could see the indent of her navel, the darker hue of the tips of her breasts, the—
Okay, I saw a lot of her.
What I saw didn’t matter. That bitch had been there when Madis slaughtered that babe. My hand slipped to my right thigh, only to come up empty.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Bele demanded.
Cressa’s gaze swept toward the stairs, her rosy lips curving into a smile. “Bele,” she said, and I saw red at the sound of her voice. “It’s been a while.” Her chin tipped down. “Aios? Is that you? You look…well. I’m sure Kolis will be thrilled to hear.”
Aios stiffened, then everything happened fast. Cressa threw up her hand, and there was a flash of intense, silvery light. Eather. The bolt of energy charged the air as it streaked toward the staircase. Bele pushed Aios aside as I snapped forward, grabbing her by the shoulder, but the blast of power ricocheted off the shadowstone.
“Aios!” I shouted as the eather smacked into her, forcing out a pained cry. The silvery energy rolled over half of her body in shimmery ripples from her stomach to her feet. The goddess crumpled, nearly taking me down with her as I fell back onto my ass.
Aios was limp in my arms, boneless, but the ember of life didn’t pulse in my chest. “She’s alive,” I whispered hoarsely as I eased her onto her side. “She’s alive—”
“Stay down,” Bele ordered and then whipped around, gripping the railing. She launched herself over it, landing in a nimble crouch on the floor below.
I stayed low, one hand on Aios’s shoulder, and peered through the railing. Bele rose, a silvery aura surrounding her as she stalked forward,
sword in hand. I squeezed Aios’s shoulder, hoping she could feel it, and then I began inching down the stairs, really wishing I had something better than a stupid butter knife. There were countless weapons in the chamber behind the thrones, but there was no way I could get to them unless I went back upstairs and took the other stairs. That would take too long. Anything could happen.
“I would love to play with you.” Cressa remained where she was, arms at her sides. “But we really don’t have time for that.”
“Oh, you’re going to fucking make time.” Bele struck, thrusting out with the sword as a flare of eather left her other hand.
Cressa was shockingly fast, darting out of the way of both blows. She spun, grabbing and twisting Bele’s arm. Bele dipped under it and kicked out, catching Cressa in the side. The goddess stumbled, letting out a husky laugh. “That hurt.” She straightened, tossing back her mane of dark hair. “But not as much as this will.”
“You’re right. This will—” Bele jerked, her words cut off. Cressa laughed again. “You were saying?”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what had happened, but I saw Bele look down. I followed her gaze to the…the tip of a dagger protruding from the center of her chest. Disbelief seized me as Bele’s grip loosened on the sword and it fell to the floor with a thud that sounded like a crack of thunder. That dagger—oh, gods, it was shadowstone. It was deadly to a god if it pierced their heart or head, and that blade had to be close. It had to be right there. And there was no way Cressa had thrown it.
My head jerked around toward the atrium. I didn’t see anyone, but someone else had to be here. Someone must have come in through one of the other entrances.
“Bitch,” Bele whispered, staggering back. “Thank you.” Cressa smirked.
Bele turned to the stairs, going down to one knee. The ember in my chest warmed, causing my breath to catch. She was wounded. Badly. I knew that dagger had to come out. She would be virtually paralyzed, unable to heal and completely vulnerable, until someone removed it.
I had to get it out. I rose from where I was crouched, keeping an eye on Cressa while knowing there was someone out of my line of vision. Bele shook her head as she fell forward onto one hand, panting. “Get out—”
Cressa struck, her bare foot catching Bele under the chin and snapping her head to the side. The kick would’ve killed a mortal. It could’ve possibly snapped Bele’s neck. She dropped forward, unconscious but in much worse shape than Aios. She wouldn’t heal with that dagger in her. I had to get it out, and then I would shove it so deep into Cresa’s heart, the bitch would choke on it.
Cressa’s gaze shot to the stairwell. “Hello,” she said, stepping over Bele, that mocking smile spreading across her lips. “You must be her. The mortal, would-be Consort to the Primal of Death. The entire realm has been wondering why he would choose a mortal, and I think we have our answer. Don’t we, Madis?”
A rush of air stirred the wisps of hair at my temples. I spun as a blur came over the railing, landing behind me. I caught a brief glimpse of pale skin. A white tunic trimmed in gold. Amber eyes. Long, midnight hair—
Sharp, sudden pain exploded along the side of my head, and then there was nothing.
 |
The shock of my body dropping to a hard floor jerked me back into consciousness. My eyes flew open to see a raised dais and two shadowstone thrones.
I turned my head slightly, wincing as a throbbing pain bounced inside my skull. I blinked, clearing the tiny bursts of white light from my eyes. Slowly, the forms of Aios and Bele came into focus. They were between two pillars, Aios on her side and Bele lying on her stomach, the dagger still protruding from her back. They had been dragged in here.
“She’s awake,” a female spoke. “You obviously didn’t hit her all that hard.”
Cressa.
I flipped onto my back, ignoring the flare of pain radiating down my spine.
“Well, I did drop her onto the floor.” Madis leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest. “You should be grateful I didn’t accidentally kill her, considering how weak mortals are.”
“But is she really all that mortal?” Cressa countered. My stomach twisted as she was suddenly before me, thick black hair cascading over her shoulders. “Are you?”
I gingerly sat up, curling my right leg toward me. I swallowed hard, trying to ease the dryness in my throat. “Last time I checked, I was mortal.”
Cressa smiled just enough to reveal the tips of her fangs. “No. If it’s you we’ve been looking for, I’m not so sure about that.”
A wave of unease shuttled through me as she rose and drifted back several steps.
“But if you’re not? Well, our bad.” Cressa looked down at me with pitiless golden eyes. “We’ll find out soon enough if you were what the viktors were protecting.”
“Viktors?” I glanced over at Bele and Aios. Was there a way I could get to them—to Bele, at least, to remove the dagger? I would have a far better chance doing that than attempting to make it to the chamber behind the thrones.
Cressa arched a brow.
“He needs to get here soon.” Madis looked at the mouth of the throne room. “Nyktos and the others will only be distracted for so long.”
My heart turned over heavily. “What did you do?”
“Led a couple of dozen Shades into the city,” Cressa said, and I felt my stomach pitch. “That escalated far quicker than I thought it would. He’ll be busy for some time, cleaning up that mess.”
Good gods, I didn’t even want to think about the kind of horror the Shades would bring down on the people. But Nyktos had to know—he had to feel my emotions, wouldn’t he? Had I felt anything extreme? I didn’t think so, and for the first time, I cursed my inability to feel true terror easily. I glanced at Bele again.
“Don’t even think it, mortal,” Cressa warned. My gaze shot up to her. “I have a name.” “Do I look like I give a fuck?”
“Do I look like I give a fuck that you don’t?” I shot back.
Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. She took a step forward.
Madis unfolded his arms, and I tensed as he pushed off the pillar. “Careful. If it’s her, and you kill her, you’re going to wish you were dead.”
“Gods, I hope it’s not you,” Cressa sneered, but I wasn’t paying attention to her.
They didn’t want me dead. I thought about what Gemma had said about Kolis and the missing Chosen that had come back different. “Why does it matter if I live or die?” I asked, drawing my other leg up. I shifted forward. If they couldn’t kill me, then I could make a run for Bele.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Madis replied. “But trust me when I say you better hope it’s not you. Whatever Cressa wants to do with you—and she has a very active imagination…”
“I do,” Cressa confirmed.
“Will pale in comparison to what awaits you,” Madis finished.
“Did you all plan to say that?” I said. “I bet you two spent eons waiting for the perfect moment to be embarrassingly cliché.”
Cressa’s lips thinned. “You’re going to test me, aren’t you?” Her gaze flicked up, beyond me. “Finally.”
I looked over my shoulder to the entrance of the throne room and saw gold. Hair and skin like sunlight, eyes like two citrine jewels.
It was a tall god with golden hair and eyes that matched. He strode into the throne room, his long legs encased in black, the white shirt he wore left untied at the neck. A smile appeared as he spotted me. “Well, hello,” he drawled, and I tensed. The god knelt in front of me. His gaze swept over my features.
“What do you think, Taric?” Cressa demanded. This was the third god. They were all here.
“I think you finally succeeded.” He stared, reaching for me. “Hell, just like he described. This has—”
I reacted without thought, unsheathing the butter knife when he gripped my arm. Twisting into Taric, I thrust the knife as hard as I could—
The impact of the knife meeting the flesh of his chest rattled the bones in my hand and arm. The knife snapped in two. My mouth dropped open as I jerked the ruined blade back. I’d known it wouldn’t do much damage, but I hadn’t thought it would do that. Good gods… I lifted my gaze to Taric’s.
“Was that a butter knife? Really?” A fair brow arched. “Did that make you feel better?”
I swung again, aiming the broken end at his eye.
Taric caught my wrist, twisting sharply. I gritted my teeth at the bite of pain. My fingers spasmed open. The useless knife slipped from my hand.
“She’s a fighter,” Taric commented, placing his palm against the side of my head as I went to jab with my elbow. “Stop.”
My elbow connected with the underside of his jaw, snapping his head back. Cressa laughed as Taric grunted. He jerked his head straight, eyes flared wide. “I said stop,” he commanded.
I pulled back, attempting to gain enough space between us so I could use my legs—
The god cursed under his breath and rose, gripping my shoulders and yanking me to my feet. I tore free, backing up. I took a quick look around to make sure the other gods weren’t near. They remained by the pillars.
Taric sighed. “You really want to try this?”
“No,” I admitted, bracing myself. “But I will.”
I struck first, but he caught my wrist and pushed—pushed hard. I flew backward, skidding across the floor. I hit a stone pillar with enough force to knock the air out of me.
“You’re just delaying the inevitable,” Madis commented from the sidelines as Taric stalked toward me.
Pushing off the wall, I spun and kicked out, aiming for his knee, but where he’d been was now nothing but empty space. I stumbled, barely stopping myself from falling.
“You cannot fight me.”
I whirled, finding the god standing behind me. Shooting forward, I swept up with my fist—
He was gone again.
“And this is getting boring already.”
Catching myself, I spun once more. He again stood in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest. Now I was starting to get angry. Kicking off the wall, I gained speed and pushed into the air—
Arms snagged me from behind, and a frustrated shriek left me. “I am a
god.”
“Congratulations,” I snapped, throwing my head back. I connected with his face. The blow sent another pulse of pain through me, and I swung my legs out—
Taric let go.
I fell, twisting at the last second so I landed on my knees. I popped to my feet and turned. The god gripped me by the throat, lifting me. His fingers dug into my skin as I kicked out. He pushed forward, slamming my back into a pillar. I sucked in a breath of pain when he lifted me off the
floor and planted his forearm against my chest. He pressed in with his body, pinning me so we were at eye level.
“Look at me,” he demanded, and his voice…gods, there was something about his voice. It crawled over my skin, trying to find a way in. “Look at me.”
I felt his voice digging into me with razor-sharp nails and brushing against my mind, demanding that I obey. That I do whatever he requested. And a part of me wanted to cave to it. But I fought the urge—
“Interesting.” Curiosity filled Taric’s tone as he gripped my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “The compulsion is not working on her.”
“It has to be her,” Cressa exclaimed. “Let’s take her and get the hell out of here—”
“We need to be sure.” Taric’s hand slipped away from my throat and curved around my chin. “And there is one way I can confirm it.”
“You know it’s her,” Cressa argued, coming forward. “You’re just being greedy. Stupid.”
“Possibly.” Taric smiled, baring his fangs. My heart stuttered at the sight of them. “But I always wondered what the graeca would taste like.” He jerked my head to the side roughly. “Seems like someone else already found out.” His laugh hit my throat. “Oh, the King will be so very displeased by that.”
There was no warning, no time to prepare. He struck, sinking his fangs into the same spot Nyktos had. He pierced my skin, and it hurt. The pain was hot, scalding my senses as he drew deeply on my blood, tugging harder than I thought possible. It didn’t ease. It didn’t become something heated and sensual. It was an endless, throbbing pain that sank even deeper with each wave, going past my skin to my blood and bone. Panic exploded in my gut as I struggled against Taric, but the god was too strong. And he was fastened to the side of my neck.
My entire body went stiff against the wall as mental fingers scratched at my mind and then sank deeper, clawing at me—digging into my thoughts, my memories, into the very core of my being. I didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was peeling back layers, seeing what I saw, hearing words I’d spoken and those others had said to me. He was amid my thoughts—
Pain exploded, this time inside my head, deep and throbbing. It felt like my skull was being shattered. A scream tore through me. Starbursts flooded my vision as my throat sealed off, silencing the scream. Agony fired down
my spine, burning through my nerve endings. I couldn’t breathe through it, couldn’t think, or hide from it. There was no veil to retreat into, no empty vessel or blank canvas to become. The pain settled deep in me, taking root, and tearing me apart. A metallic taste pooled in the back of my mouth. Pure terror dug in its claws. Nyktos was wrong. I could be terrified. I was right then. I couldn’t take this. My fingers dug into Taric’s skin. I couldn’t take— The clawing, digging touch retreated suddenly. Taric jerked away, and I didn’t even feel the painful withdrawal of his fangs or when I hit the floor. I lay there on my side, eyes wide and muscles spasming, over and over as the
fire faded from my skin and eased from my muscles.
“Is it her?” Cressa demanded, sounding first far away and then closer with each word.
My vision cleared as the burning sensation left my blood, and my muscles loosened. Dragging in air, I curled my fingers against the floor as the fiery pain still burned from my neck and chest.
“Oh, gods, it is,” Taric exhaled. “But this is far more…” He staggered to the side, looking down. “What in the hell?”
The floor was vibrating. I watched the darkness gather in the alcoves and peel away from the walls, racing across the floor toward the entryway. I tried to lift my head, but the muscles of my neck were like limp noodles. A blast of thunder shook the entire palace. No. That wasn’t thunder. That was a roar. A draken.
A gust of icy wind whirled through the chamber, the air charging with power.
Taric took a step back and turned to the front of the room as the air crackled and hissed. Pulling every ounce of energy I had in me, I sat up, leaning heavily against the pillar. Panting, I inhaled sharply, and the scent… the citrusy, fresh scent reached me. My breath hitched.
Nyktos.
The churning mass of shadows appeared in the archway of the chamber, and what I saw looked nothing like the Nyktos I knew.
His skin was the color of midnight streaked with the silver of eather, as hard as the stone the palace had been built from and just as smooth. The flesh swirled all over, making it difficult to see if his features were the same. The twin, sweeping arcs behind him were no longer wings of smoke and shadow but solid and similar to those of a draken, except his were a
seething mass of silver and black. Power sparked from his eyes—eyes filled with so much eather, no irises or pupils were visible.
This was what I had seen glimpses of. What existed beneath the skin of a Primal. And he was terrifying and beautiful.
Nyktos rose into the air, wings stretched wide, arms at his sides, hands open, and eather dancing across his palms. “On your knees,” he commanded. “Now.”
