Page 79

Evander

A nger is seething through my body, and I have the strongest urge to slam the knife I hold through Braddock’s thick throat.

My father didn’t know of this new plan. That fact is abundantly clear in the bewilderment that spreads across his face when the king mentions Bria and I having children.

And giving them to the priests to raise.

Even he, as devout of a man as he is, did not expect that—to be told he is to have grandchildren but that they will never be his.

And yet he does not say a word about it or balk at the prospect.

Fucking gutless piece of shit.

It just furthers the reason I left these monsters.

To think that I would go along with this, to give up my children, to allow Bria and her sister to be drugged and beaten, have their energy drained out of them and then used as human incubators…

It’s sick. Twisted. Even worse than what I expected from them.

My hand tightens around the knife, gripping the handle as I slice into the meat on my plate, forcing myself to eat.

Chew and swallow. Just keep up appearances until we can leave.

Bria is barely eating, and I’m not sure Nimai has touched her food yet either.

Though I suppose both sedation and debilitating fear will do that to a person.

I notice Luthais keeps gently nudging Nimai, urging her to take a bite.

What is he up to? Perhaps he’s trying to ensure the future of the kingdom doesn’t die on his watch, because he doesn’t care for her as a person.

That much is apparent from the purple-blue tint under her eye.

Someone struck her. Hard. She must have put up a fight when she first arrived.

I assume the long sleeves of the gown are hiding more bruising and the like.

She has far more flesh covered than the gown Bria is clad in.

My father and the king are speaking of the wedding.

My wedding . But I pay them no mind. I hear Father Mallory telling Bria what to expect tomorrow when she returns to the temple and my stomach sinks to the floor.

I really should talk to her about the priestess before we go to her tomorrow.

She deserves to know the truth, and I feel like a coward for not telling her before now, though I have no doubt in my mind she will not react well to the truth.

I’m not sure I can bear for her to look at me like she did when I first arrived at the northern camp.

I won’t live through her rejection again.

I glance down at her hand on the table, my mother’s ring still adorning her long, slim finger. It fits her perfectly. This is where it belongs. It makes my heart swell just to look at it.

“Shit!” I hear Luthais curse under his breath and look up. Nimai has dropped from her seated position and he caught her. His eyes dart around to see who noticed. The drugs have fully kicked in now and she’s passing out. Despite his quick action, everyone sees the girl slide into him.

“It appears Lady Nimai has had a bit too much to drink this evening,” the king croons as Luthais stands to gather her in his arms. I push my chair back a bit, readying to help him, but Aamon shoots me a glance, warning me to stay put—to stay with Bria.

Her speech is slower than normal, and she is barely eating, but otherwise she’s acting normal.

By the way he’s watching her, he will expect me to give her more tomorrow, unhappy with the effects.

Luthais bends his legs and sweeps up the long train of her dress, cradling her in his arms. She folds into him, and I’m in awe of how affected she is by the dose.

I’d forgotten how it works, how it could turn someone into an entirely different person, easily swayed and demure.

She is curled in upon the man who took her from her family, who beat and drugged her.

His shoulders flex under his tunic as he walks away, servants opening the doors for him as he strides out with Nimai in his arms.

My jaw and teeth are clenched so hard I think I may crack a tooth as my eyes follow them out the door.

I turn to Bria, who is still listening to Father Mallory, her shoulders tensed up around her.

Her left hand is still on the table and I see the fingers bend, clenching inward, the faintest bit of black starting to bleed out of the tips.

I run a hand through my hair, tugging it out of my face.

I need to bring her to her room before she gets another surge of energy.

She’s been fighting it all night and can only hold it in for so long.

“I think perhaps Lady Bria and I should retire as well. It has been quite a day for all of us.” I’m hoping the king will let us go easily now that his precious Nimai is out of the room.

His eyes go to Bria, and he observes her for a moment, his lips pursing.

He too noticed that she isn’t quite as affected by the sedative, not nearly as much as her sister.

I don’t think any of them will assume betrayal on my part just because of her demeanor.

They have no reason not to trust me right now.

But they are registering this as her being even more powerful than they thought.

And that could be a very bad thing for us.

Right now, they want Bria alive, but if it comes down to it, they still have Nimai.

And I cannot let it come to that before we escape.

“Of course,” Braddock drawls. “She will need her rest before meeting with the high priestess tomorrow.” My stomach threatens to bring my dinner back up when he mentions it.

Standing from my place at the table, I stretch my hand out for Bria.

She grasps it and I pull her up. She stumbles slightly, falling into me, but I catch her.

Looking down at her, I can see the cobalt fire surging.

The stumble is a nice touch, but I fear it isn’t enough to make them think she is the least bit subdued.

I steady her and slide my arm around her back, gripping my fingers into her waist again, turning us both to face the king.

Her body is hot to the touch. Too hot. Not a natural heat but almost feverish, and I know the flames of her power are raging inside.

I look at the king and his eyes linger on her, taking in her body in the tight and revealing gown.

The tension in my jaw returns as he stares at her, his eyes dropping to the porcelain skin of her long legs exposed by that ridiculously high slit that goes halfway up her fucking thighs.

Warring with the desire to knock him out for even thinking he can look at her like that, I manage a small bow in an attempt to hide the fury that he is sure to read in my face.

Spinning us both around, I keep my arm tight on her waist as we walk toward the double doors, not allowing him another glance at her body.

Bria holds on to the hand I have around her, making a show of clinging to me.

We stride out of the room, leaving the king with Aamon and Father Mallory.

Bria begins to straighten up, moving her weight off me when the doors close behind us and we are well into the hallway outside of the royal dining room.

But I know better. The king’s servants will report back to him, report anything we do that appears off.

I bend down to brush a kiss across her brow.

“Not yet,” I whisper. Relief flows through me as she relaxes back into my side, putting more of her weight on me to move her up the stairs and down the long hallway.

Luthais is not there when we make our way past Nimai’s room.

Which seems surprising. She may be drugged but they wouldn’t risk leaving her unattended.

Unless...my stomach flips as I think of him inside the room. I want to break the door down and drag him out by his hair. When the time comes, I’ll kill him slowly, rip every finger off those hands, cut them from him one by one for ever laying a hand on her.

I steer us toward Bria’s room and open the door, pushing her forward gently with my hand on the small of her back as I stare next door.

I’m about to enter the room, my hand still holding the door open, but I’m heavily debating on knocking on Nimai’s door, just to be safe.

Though if it’s only her in there she won’t be answering after passing out downstairs.

But then I see her door swing inward and a tall figure emerges.

Luthais slips out of the room, dragging a hand along his face and rubbing it as if he’s trying hard to scrub the exhaustion away.

He catches my gaze and acknowledges my presence with a tight-lipped smile, and for once, he doesn’t look smug. He looks tired, and possibly upset.

“Give me a minute,” I say quietly into the room before letting Bria’s door shut in front of me, turning toward him.

“Is she alright?” I ask, gesturing toward the door behind him. He slumps his body against it.

I’ve never seen him like this. He’s normally so stoic and put together and typically, just a completely insufferable ass whose cocky attitude keeps everyone at bay. He sighs audibly and drives his hands deep into his pockets, his shoulders pressed into the door behind him.

“I think so. She’s asleep now. Or passed out. I’m not really sure which.” Worry lines his face.

“They are dosing her too much,” I offer, hoping he remembers this was my role before leaving. That I was part of the drugging and the tortures, that if anyone knew about this, it was me. Not the current me, but the Evander they all knew here in the capital.

To my surprise, he nods. “I said the same thing, but Father Mallory insisted. He didn’t want to risk her telling Bria anything about her time in the dungeons.”

Tension ripples through my body and I roll my neck, trying not to think of what happened to her down there. “Understandable.”

“Bria’s dose wasn’t high enough,” he remarks, looking back at me. “She was too aware of everything tonight. You’re going to have to give her more before she meets with the high priestess tomorrow.”

I nod. “I know.”

“She cannot remember what happens when she meets with her. Or none of this will work,” he continues.

“I’m aware,” I say, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Did you—” he begins and runs his hand back over his face, as if trying to wake himself from a dream. Or a nightmare.

“Did you know about their plans?” he finally manages, his voice rough.

This man was brought up in the temple for years—he is devout, a loyal follower. So, though his face shows signs that he is warring with that faith right now, I remain wary. I don’t want to reveal too much to him. “No, I didn’t know until tonight. But Bria and I will do what they ask of us.”

His eyes flash to me, a darker gray than before. His jaw flexes, the muscles in his neck tightening as irritation creeps into his features. “They have no choice, do they?” he asks, his tone tinged with sadness. “They are far more powerful than the men here, yet they have no fucking choice.”

I turn away from him. I have no use for his anger or annoyance, or whatever this is.

He isn’t part of their plan, their decision, and that’s likely what’s causing this change in him, not genuine concern for any of us.

And I need to check on Bria. We have to discuss our escape, sooner rather than later given the turn of events.

I walk the few feet to the door and place my hand on the cool metal handle. “No, they don’t. None of us do,” I say before pushing the door open and sliding inside the bedchamber.