Page 44 of The Curse of Gods (The Curse of Saints #3)

Lorna hadn’t said a word to her since they’d thrown them back in their cell. But Aya could feel the woman’s stare like a brand, long and lingering and wary.

They were all wary.

She’d snapped the prisoner’s neck. After she’d torn out his power, she’d grabbed hold of his head and twisted, the sound of his breaking spine cracking through the room like a whip.

The guards had been on her before he hit the ground, but it was pointless.

She’d held out her hands for her shackles as one of the other prisoners screamed, the echoes of her sorrow stretching to the corners of the room.

Gregor’s voice had been lost among the woman’s shouts of agony as he tried to direct his soldiers, who were unsure of who they should be taming.

The screaming woman?

Aya?

No, not Aya. Not with the way she went willingly to the guards’ side, her power stifled once more.

“Get her out of here,” Gregor had ordered over the woman’s screams. “Get them both out of here!”

The guards had dragged her and Lorna from the hall. Aya had just been able to make out the sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath before the woman’s screams were silenced.

Aya leaned back against the cell wall. She had thought they’d come for her—after the turmoil in the throne room settled, and they’d had time to regroup, she’d expected they would fetch her.

Oh well. It was no matter.

Aya wet her lips.

“Guard!” she called out, her voice clear and forceful. It took a moment, but the door opened to reveal the Anima. “I wish to speak to the king and the demigod.”

The Anima’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t take orders from you,” she sneered.

“Consider it a request, then.”

The Anima’s suspicion did not waver as she shut the door, but Aya could hear her footsteps as she stomped down the hall to pass the message along.

Aya clasped her hands together, her elbows resting on her parted knees as she watched the door.

“You would let them use you in this way?” Lorna finally asked.

Aya’s jaw shifted as she stared ahead. “I will do what I must.”

Silence fell again, something tangible that built a wall in the space separating them. Distantly, Aya could hear the return of the Anima. She pushed herself to her feet, her chains clanking as she went.

“May the gods help you,” Lorna murmured.

Aya didn’t bother to spare the Saj a glance as she strode to the door. “If I have my way, Lorna, the gods won’t bother anyone ever again.”

The Anima opened the cell door, her brows rising as she found Aya waiting for her. But she gave a jerk of her chin, and Aya fell into step beside her as the guard led the way down the hall.

No dragging, no yanking. Just a steady walk through the labyrinth of the prison and into the throne room, empty now save for the king and Evie. They were seated on their thrones, their heads bent toward one another in a whispered discussion that ceased as Aya stepped into the room.

Her bare feet padded across the floor, the cold of the marble a welcoming sting as she stopped before them.

“I daresay there has been quite enough excitement for one day,” Gregor remarked as he lounged back in his seat. “Though I am curious what else you would like to add.” He motioned to the space between them. “Share whatever it is you would like to say.”

Aya glanced to Evie, watching as a small knowing smile tugged at her lips.

Slowly, Aya lowered herself to one knee.

“I pledge myself to your cause,” she said steadily, her chin lifting as she looked between the demigod and king.

“I will help you kill the gods.”