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I gather the flowing train in my free hand and gently lower myself, tucking my feet and knees under.

Watching Ev out of the corner of my eye, I mimic his movements.

His head is bowed in a reverent prayer, so I do the same, staying like that for some time in our false prayer.

His fingers are still interlocked with mine and he trails his thumb along his mother’s ring on my hand.

Our time on the floor feels like hours but I’m aware only minutes have passed.

I have no patience for this level of worship.

How much longer are we supposed to stay like this?

I wonder. The hard marble is cold through the gown and not to mention, painful.

If you are expected to kneel and pray, the least the bastards could do was put out a cushion or a rug.

After a few more moments though, Ev lifts his head before raising from the half-kneeling position.

He pulls me up to my feet as well and we turn back to face Father Mallory together.

He’s staring at us as I flatten the skirt of the gown, and I notice that disturbed glint in his eye.

He makes my skin feel dirty, filthy even.

And I want to rush back to the castle and scrub it as hard as I can to get his stare off me.

“What a truly lovely couple you are,” he croons, his eyes glued on me.

He continues to say things like that, about how happy and lovely we are, and it strikes me as odd.

We are convincing as a couple, and why should we not be?

We care for one another deeply, having shared years of friendship and clear sexual chemistry.

And Evander has done a wonderful job convincing his father, at least, that he seduced me for the cause.

So, I cannot tell if he is trying to put me at ease with these comments, to make me more pliable to his will if I think the priests approves of our union, or if it’s something else entirely.

I can’t be sure, but something about his words just makes my skin crawl.

“Lady Bria, if you would join me.” He gestures toward the closest bench, and my body tenses, every muscle going rigid at the thought of sitting with him. “Evander must take the rite and I would like you to watch, to meet the priests and witness what Vaohr has to offer.”

Shit . My eyes dart to Ev, who remains beside me.

With a slight nod from him, I begin to move, forcing my body into motion even though it fights me the entire way.

My mind screams that this man wishes to cause me harm and in the worst ways imaginable.

The bench is barely big enough for the two of us and I have no desire to be that close to this bag of bones.

But I walk past him anyway, quickening my pace as I see his outstretched arm.

His fingers brush my elbow and I shudder.

When I sit, he settles in next to me, comfortably fanning out his flowing robes.

Expensive fabrics swathe the man, and he reeks of herbs and some sort of metallic tang.

He’s too close for comfort. His knees touch mine and I will them to stay in place and not to retreat as they so want to.

I purposely rest my hands in my lap, appearing more ladylike, and immediately feel his fingers tracing mine.

“What a lovely ring,” he remarks, clasping my hand, encasing it in his spindly fingers.

The flames crackle within my core, building, and I try to hold them off. My hands feel hot—too hot, and heat rises into my face. He can feel it. I know he can even before he leans in to whisper in my ear.

“You don’t have to hide around me, my pet.” His voice is slick as oil. It shoots a chill straight up my spine. But I breathe. Remember to just keep breathing , to keep the flames caged. For now.

“I’m not hiding anything, I assure you, Father,” I reply, turning my voice into the sickly-sweet tone they have come to expect from me.

From the corner of my vision, I see more priests pouring out from the doors behind the statue, filling in the benches and coming to surround the statue of Vaohr. And Evander.

He chuckles and I feel Ev’s eyes on us. Watching Father Mallory.

“Ahh, but you stifle your gift. I understand. You think it stolen and you wish to give it back. But that is not what Vaohr has planned for you, my dear.” His breath is hot against my face, damp and acrid.

What is he talking about ? What he has planned for me is to take the magic that is rightfully mine and use it for the Crown’s own fucked up purposes.

“It is stolen, Father. I wish to be of service in whatever capacity Vaohr deems appropriate.” Lies flow, but the mask of the docile damsel remains in place.

“Shhh, my pet,” he says as he pats my hand but does not release his grasp on it. “Let us listen.”

Fighting the impulse to rip my hand away, I let him hold them and imagine slamming my fist into his sniveling face instead. I wish to yank out his tongue and slice it off so he can never call me pet again.

“The almighty Vaohr created all life, good and evil. He hung the moon and stars in the sky and poured light into the sun. Vaohr bestowed upon this land the creatures that now roam, the people who now breathe, the plants that now grow.”

The priest standing before Evander has begun speaking and Ev sinks to his knees once more. His head is down, hands splayed in front of him at the feet of the priest. I hate it more than I can stomach. He should not kneel to anyone. Especially not these charlatans.

One day, though. One day, I will bring these men to their knees. And I will do it for Ev, for Nimai, and all the innocent lives these people have stolen.

The priest is retrieving something from the folds of his cloak and Father Mallory begins to speak again, his tone hushed.

“As I am sure you are aware, dear girl, Vaohr revealed himself as the true god to King Edwin over a hundred years ago now.”

I nod. I know how their faerie tale goes.

“The Keeper had refused to give a gift to the king. The king was furious that he would be slighted, thinking the Keeper was a god and not the demon he truly was. But Vaohr saw that the king had good in his heart and revealed himself. He brought the priests to the king, granting them the ability to wield his power in the name of Vaohr. It is the one reason the Keeper was felled. He was no match for the king once he had the power of Vaohr at his side. No match for the one true and righteous god.”

I want to strangle him until all the air leaves his lungs and no more nonsense can spew forth. When he squeezes my hand, flames lick at my fingertips, fighting back at my attempts to lock them down.

Father Mallory smiles, a twisted curve of his thin lip. “You know the power I speak of, pet. You likely feel strengthened just being in the presence of all the priests, by being in this sacred place.”

I feel no such thing. What I feel is rage and a longing for vengeance when I force a small grin to seep into my face.

The priest standing in front of Evander is chanting a prayer to Vaohr while holding one of the blue orbs they use.

Ev hasn’t fully explained the orbs to me, but I gather that this is how they channel power.

How they contain it for their own use. The others have them on the top of staffs, but this one he holds in his bare hands.

Father Mallory leans back in, and his breath is like a hot knife slicing across my cheek.

“Evander must allow the power of Vaohr to course through him, to feel what the god wants him to feel. It will allow him to understand his purpose and fully commit himself to the temple.”

I arch my brow. “He will be struck with Vaohr’s power? But how?”

“You will see, my pet. Be patient and watch your betrothed commit himself to the cause.” His voice is like gravel being ground into my skull. Irritating and painful to listen to.

The priest stops chanting and looks down at Evander, who finally raises his head. I hate this. I hate not knowing what is going to happen and having to sit idly by.

The priest grasps the blue orb, light bouncing off it as he observes Evander kneeling before him.

Then he thrusts his arms out, the orb still poised tightly between them, and a flash of blinding white light erupts from the orb and strikes Ev.

He goes down on the marble floor, his forehead making a loud cracking noise as it hits.

Gasping, I quickly raise my hand to my mouth in an attempt to stifle it. I hear Father Mallory let out a soft snicker beside me.

“Impressive, is it not, my dear?”

Not nearly as impressive as what I can do.

Or what Silas can do, for that matter. This is a watered-down version of his ball of light.

Something less than. But Father Mallory mistakes my concern for Evander as shock regarding what the priest did.

Ev is alive. I can see him breathing and keep myself seated.

No magic they contain in that orb holds a candle to what I am capable of.

“He will be fine,” Father Mallory continues, clearly realizing my silence means I’m concerned for my betrothed and nothing more.

He is absolutely knocked out, but the priests just keep on with their business.

Some come over to be introduced to me, walking around Evander passed out on the ground.

As much as I want to go to him, I know I cannot, and Father Mallory keeps my hand held tight, introducing me to the miserable lot of men.

I smile and nod, feigning interest in them while keeping my eye on Ev.

When the last of them has filtered out, Father Mallory turns his gaze back to me.

“Vaohr is so pleased with you, my dear girl.” As if he has spoken to the fraudulent god himself. Fucking maniac.

“I am happy to be of service, Father. Will I also partake in the rite as Evander did?” I’m digging, trying to get more information as to what this man might be up to.