Page 130 of The Nymph Prince

I silently pleaded for my father to help me. And gods, I felt like a child again, crying under my blanket from a bad dream. I needed to hear his voice again as he told me it was going to be okay, that I was safe.

Do not give them your tears,I told myself.Do not let them see you weak.

“Oh, Aleksander.” Ezra stopped once we were in front of the altar and turned to me. He moved his thumb beneath my eye. “Do not cry, darling. Everything will be over soon enough.”

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded as he grabbed the dagger.

My death was a thing I’d come to terms with already. I’d vowed to end my own life, if I couldn’t battle the darkness. But knowing that my death would be the cause of the evil that followed? I couldn’t bear it.

However, Lorcan had seen me alive in his vision. In my dreams, I’d been alive, too. So they weren’t going to kill me. My gaze darted to the book. It was in a language I hadn’t spoken in many years. The one of my people.

One word stood out: necromancy.

“You won’t have a choice,”Ezra had told me.

Because I wouldn’t bemeanymore.

“I do believe he’s just figured it out,” Ezra said with a light laugh. “How splendid.”

He pressed his lips to mine, and I thrashed against him. He tasted wrong. Felt wrong. When he stepped away from me, a smirk lingered in the corner of his mouth.

“How?” I asked, feeling nausea bubble inside me.

“I have his soul.” Ezra touched the black box on the altar, and his face softened. His red eyes then flashed to me. “And you will be his vessel.”

“My master awaits his awakening,” the seer said, walking toward us from the side entrance. “He’s never left me. The dark one. The dark king.” She tapped her temple with a long nail. “Right here, he is. Always here. And I do his bidding, yes I do.”

“Enough of your mad ramblings, witch,” Ezra grumbled, snarling his upper lip at her. “Get on with it.”

I never had a fighting chance. I’d been gravely mistaken. It was never the temptation of evil I was up against. Eva had wasted her time with me. The “rebirth” the seer had mentioned was Haman’s rebirth. They were going to place Haman’s soul in my body.

What would happen to mine?

Would Lorcan feel it?

The seer leaned in close to me, holding the silver goblet in one hand and the dagger in the other. Her hot breath was revolting. “This will hurt a little.”

After walking behind me, she gripped my bound hands and gently placed the dagger to my forearm. Teasing me with it. I hated not being able to see what she was doing.

I winced as the cold blade sliced into my arm, and I heard my blood dripping into the cup.

The mages in the temple continued their chants, except for now they spoke in our native tongue.

“I thought you already had my blood,” I said through gritted teeth. She’d taken it during one of my dreams. It’d been how this whole ordeal had begun.

“Just a drop I needed then,” she whispered as she returned to the altar and placed the goblet beside the old book. “I used it to bind you to this place, yes I did, so you would be forced to travel here when the time was right, whether you wanted to or not.”

“And now?”

Ezra gently brushed my hair back, smiling as his red eyes scanned my face. “Do you truly wish to know, Aleksander? Surely, you’ve heard of necromancy.”

“Bringin’ the dead back to life,” I answered, and my stomach rolled. “But I am not dead.”

“Yet.” Ezra ran his hand across my chest. “You see, you have to die, so we can place my beloved’s soul into your empty vessel. It’s nothing personal. I’ve quite enjoyed our time together. But that time is at an end now.”

The seer pulled a vial with black liquid from her gown. She cackled as she held it upward for all to see. “The dark king will rise soon!”

The spectators cheered and grew in their chants.