Blood Prince - Page 28

“Zeus will come for me and wipe you all into the mouth of Hades.” Leda tried to call down death as she fought against her captors. They did not move, just stood as if made of stone. Leda was so weak now.

Mother, please.

Menelaus backed away from me and put his blade to Leda’s throat. He looked to the ceiling and through the atrium that gave way to the sky above. “I see no Zeus coming for you. No assemblage of gods on your side.”

He slipped the blade slowly along her skin, carving a trail of blood in its wake. Leda made no sound and held my gaze. My magic was screaming, demanding to be released, to destroy Menelaus and all in the room. But I couldn’t risk my mother.

He nicked Leda’s jugular and sent blood pouring down the front of her dress. “The bloom is gone from you, whore. Zeus will not come for a haggard cow when he already had the milk when it was fresh.”

The demon nobles laughed, their evil erupting throughout the airy chamber and echoing away until it resembled a dirge.

I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bear to see Leda’s face, to watch my mother’s resolve crumple with my own.

The word slipped from me like water from a tilted cup. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry, my wife, I didn’t quite hear you.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“I said that I will consent.” My voice was shaking, the knowledge of what I’d just given up too much to bear. Opening my eyes, I met the stark gaze of my mother.

“No!” Leda cried and fell to her hands, finally released by her demon captors.

I rushed to her. “I’m sorry, Mother. I can’t let you hurt anymore for me. I can’t bear it. Please forgive me for my weakness.”

Leda wailed and took me in her bloodied arms. Acid shredded my heart, my throat. Like Leda, I knew the deal would seal my fate. Fate. The pain of what I’d lost and what I would soon suffer overcame my voice, my soul. I was eclipsed by my doom.

“He will never stop hurting you,” Leda whispered through her tears. “He will never stop. Never.”

“I can’t let anyone else suffer because of me.” I glanced at my brothers, their deaths for nothing, no one. The weight of their sacrifice broke me. They thought they could save me, but I wasn’t going to be me anymore. Not after this.

“Now, my queen, prepare yourself.” Menelaus tore me from Leda’s arms and dragged me behind the dais. Leda screamed my name, and I knew that sound would never leave my mind. Just like the dead faces of my brothers, it would be there, lingering, forever.

Menelaus threw me down before his witch, an immortal who had no equal in the realm of binding and dispelling magics. She wore a robe of the deepest crimson, her dark hair coiled like snakes around her head. Already a fire burned next to the beady-eyed witch, the souls of the damned present in the flames.

“My queen is ready and has agreed to allow you to bind her. But only such that she cannot harm me. Do you understand?” Menelaus gripped the witch’s robes, drawing her face to his. She did not flinch before his menace, but her fangs extended, sharp and lethal. “You will not disturb her powers any further than that. If you do, your life is mine.”

He dropped the witch and glared at me. “Don’t think you can get away with harming those around me. I’ll keep your mother here for my amusement. If you try your magic on any of my servants or warriors—or even yourself—she will pay the price a hundredfold.”

He knelt beside me, coming as close as he dared while my magic still shimmered around us. “And after this, there will be nothing to stop me from claiming you.” He ran a finger along my cheek, smiling as he felt my tears.

I would never escape from the despair that took hold in my breast. Never again have a joyful or pleasant thought or feeling. I was trapped, undone by the curse of my abilities.

“And my payment?” the witch hissed.

“Do this, and I guarantee you will reign among your people as the most powerful, most feared leader they have ever seen.” Menelaus tipped his head slightly. “Queen Desmerada.”

Chapter Twelve

Elena

Zirga landed at the edge of the Darkwood in the late afternoon. I slid down from the pegasus and almost crumpled before Paris caught my arm. The flight had left my legs wobbly. He steadied me before leading Zirga to the stream we had landed next to, allowing the pegasus to drink only after he tasted the water for enchantments or poison.

I stretched, unknotting the muscles that had tightened during our hours-long ride, and eyed the edges of the Darkwood. It lived up to its name, the branches gnarled and twisting, absorbing and distorting the light of the three suns. Black roots reached out through and over the ground as if seeking to overtake more of the sunny plain. The vast grassland we’d flown over seemed devoid of settlement. To our left were the remains of a rutted road that led into the wood. It was covered with leaves and vegetation, clearly having long been in a state of disuse.

Tags: Celia Aaron Vampires
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