Page 8

The courtiers gasped again, and I couldn’t help the small smirk that traced over my lips. Theron raised his eyebrows at me, throwing himself back down into his black throne. “Do you always speak so freely, madam?”

“I do apologize, Your Majesty, all those weeks and months on the battlefield have turned me into something of a savage.” My voice was high-pitched with cynicism.

Theron burst out laughing, his teeth a bright white flash as he threw his head back. “I made a wise decision in not killing you. You’re delightful.”

“I am sorry to have fooled you so, Your Majesty, I can assure you I am nothing of the sort.”

He laughed again, and Regan looked as though he was about to faint or burst into tears of frustration.

“Well, I do hope we will get to know each other better, now you are here to stay with us.”

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly parched as the eyes of the courtiers bore down on me. “Did any of my kin survive the battle?”

Theron’s lips twitched pensively. “That is something to be discussed another day.”

“And my Mate?” Bile rose in my throat at the word. “He fell beside me, on the battlefield. What was done with his body?”

Theron waved his hands dismissively. “Again, a matter for another day.”

“Very well.” I shifted on my feet. “May I ask what you intend to do with me?”

“Why, have you here as my guest, Your Highness.” His grin was venomous. “A beauty like you should be exposed to the world, not hidden away in Peyrus. Especially not the state it finds itself in now.”

My throat tightened. “And what state is that?”

“You may imagine I don’t take kindly to rebellions.” His golden wings rustled as he spread them over the sides of the throne. “I can’t let betrayal go unpunished.”

“You struck the first blow, Sire.”

“Your parents knew the price of rebellion, madam.” His smile had dissolved. “Your father had faced me once before and made the right decision. This time, he was not so wise.”

My palms broke out in sweat, and I prayed they wouldn’t stain the silky fabric I clutched in my fingers and betray my anxiety. “A good ruler must also know when to show mercy.”

Theron’s hand slammed into the throne, and the courtiers around me collectively jumped. He rose to his feet, his golden wings spread wide. “Mercy?” His green eyes blazed. “The same mercy you showed to the troops whose heads you took with your sword? You, madam, are solely blessed with the gift of a weapon, intended for what? Mercy?”

I willed my breathing to remain steady, even in the face of my greatest enemy and the fury in his face. “I did what I had to in order to survive.”

“You’re a soldier, Elara.” It was the first time he’d used my name, and hearing it from his lips sent a shiver of pure ice and dread down my spine. “You’re a warrior, and a ruthless killer. I’ve had my reports from the battlefield, and I know you swung Arankos into the necks of many of my kinsmen. That is your mercy, is it?”

“What would you have had me do, Sire?”

“I would have had you speak some sense to your fucking father, you stupid girl.”

“I am not a stupid girl!” I couldn’t stop myself, and the shock on his face at being spoken to like this was well worth it. “I am Elara Osunon, Princess of Peyrus, wielder of Arankos and I will slice you limb from limb given half the fucking chance.”

The courtiers burst into outraged chatter, heaving like a dark sea around me. But all I focused on was Theron, whose expression shifted from shock to amusement in the blink of an eye.

If he killed me now, I didn’t care. I wouldn’t die afraid of him, and I would let him know. But my rage was interrupted by the oak door at the far end of the throne room being thrown open.

All eyes turned away from me and fixed on the man striding in, hauling a serpent's head the size of a horse behind him.

Chapter3

Elara

The man was covered in blood, from the top of his head down to the boots that encased his muscular legs. He wore black leather armor that was shredded across the chest. He dragged the serpent’s head across the throne room as easily as if he was dragging a blanket behind him. The courtiers swiftly stepped aside, grimacing at the greenish-black trail of serpent blood the man left in his wake.

He wasn’t Fae, nor was he a Seraph. He had no wings, none that I could see in any case. His eyes gleamed turquoise blue in his face, and the flecks of skin I could see through the serpent blood were a deep brown, darker than Theron’s.