Cressa laughed again. “You were saying?”
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what had happened, but I saw Bele look down. I followed her gaze to the…the tip of a dagger protruding from the center of her chest. Disbelief seized me as Bele’s grip loosened on the sword and it fell to the floor with a thud that sounded like a crack of thunder. That dagger—oh, gods, it was shadowstone. It was deadly to a god if it pierced their heart or head, and that blade had to be close. It had to be right there. And there was no way Cressa had thrown it.
My head jerked around toward the atrium. I didn’t see anyone, but someone else had to be here. Someone must have come in through one of the other entrances.
“Bitch,” Bele whispered, staggering back.
“Thank you.” Cressa smirked.
Bele turned to the stairs, going down to one knee. The ember in my chest warmed, causing my breath to catch. She was wounded. Badly. I knew that dagger had to come out. She would be virtually paralyzed, unable to heal and completely vulnerable, until someone removed it.
I had to get it out. I rose from where I was crouched, keeping an eye on Cressa while knowing there was someone out of my line of vision. Bele shook her head as she fell forward onto one hand, panting. “Get out—”
Cressa struck, her bare foot catching Bele under the chin and snapping her head to the side. The kick would’ve killed a mortal. It could’ve possibly snapped Bele’s neck. She dropped forward, unconscious but in much worse shape than Aios. She wouldn’t heal with that dagger in her. I had to get it out, and then I would shove it so deep into Cresa’s heart, the bitch would choke on it.
Cressa’s gaze shot to the stairwell. “Hello,” she said, stepping over Bele, that mocking smile spreading across her lips. “You must be her. The mortal, would-be Consort to the Primal of Death. The entire realm has been wondering why he would choose a mortal, and I think we have our answer. Don’t we, Madis?”
A rush of air stirred the wisps of hair at my temples. I spun as a blur came over the railing, landing behind me. I caught a brief glimpse of pale skin. A white tunic trimmed in gold. Amber eyes. Long, midnight hair—
Sharp, sudden pain exploded along the side of my head, and then there was nothing.
The shock of my body dropping to a hard floor jerked me back into consciousness. My eyes flew open to see a raised dais and two shadowstone thrones.
I turned my head slightly, wincing as a throbbing pain bounced inside my skull. I blinked, clearing the tiny bursts of white light from my eyes. Slowly, the forms of Aios and Bele came into focus. They were between two pillars, Aios on her side and Bele lying on her stomach, the dagger still protruding from her back. They had been dragged in here.
“She’s awake,” a female spoke. “You obviously didn’t hit her all that hard.”
Cressa.
I flipped onto my back, ignoring the flare of pain radiating down my spine.
“Well, I did drop her onto the floor.” Madis leaned against a pillar, arms crossed over his chest. “You should be grateful I didn’t accidentally kill her, considering how weak mortals are.”
“But is she really all that mortal?” Cressa countered. My stomach twisted as she was suddenly before me, thick black hair cascading over her shoulders. “Are you?”
I gingerly sat up, curling my right leg toward me. I swallowed hard, trying to ease the dryness in my throat. “Last time I checked, I was mortal.”
Cressa smiled just enough to reveal the tips of her fangs. “No. If it’s you we’ve been looking for, I’m not so sure about that.”
A wave of unease shuttled through me as she rose and drifted back several steps.
“But if you’re not? Well, our bad.” Cressa looked down at me with pitiless golden eyes. “We’ll find out soon enough if you were what the viktors were protecting.”
“Viktors?” I glanced over at Bele and Aios. Was there a way I could get to them—to Bele, at least, to remove the dagger? I would have a far better chance doing that than attempting to make it to the chamber behind the thrones.
Cressa arched a brow.
“He needs to get here soon.” Madis looked at the mouth of the throne room. “Nyktos and the others will only be distracted for so long.”
My heart turned over heavily. “What did you do?”
“Led a couple of dozen Shades into the city,” Cressa said, and I felt my stomach pitch. “That escalated far quicker than I thought it would. He’ll be busy for some time, cleaning up that mess.”
Good gods, I didn’t even want to think about the kind of horror the Shades would bring down on the people. But Nyktos had to know—he had to feel my emotions, wouldn’t he? Had I felt anything extreme? I didn’t think so, and for the first time, I cursed my inability to feel true terror easily. I glanced at Bele again.
“Don’t even think it, mortal,” Cressa warned.
My gaze shot up to her. “I have a name.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
“Do I look like I give a fuck that you don’t?” I shot back.
Her head tilted, and her eyes narrowed. She took a step forward.
Madis unfolded his arms, and I tensed as he pushed off the pillar. “Careful. If it’s her, and you kill her, you’re going to wish you were dead.”
“Gods, I hope it’s not you,” Cressa sneered, but I wasn’t paying attention to her.
They didn’t want me dead. I thought about what Gemma had said about Kolis and the missing Chosen that had come back different. “Why does it matter if I live or die?” I asked, drawing my other leg up. I shifted forward. If they couldn’t kill me, then I could make a run for Bele.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Madis replied. “But trust me when I say you better hope it’s not you. Whatever Cressa wants to do with you—and she has a very active imagination…”
“I do,” Cressa confirmed.
“Will pale in comparison to what awaits you,” Madis finished.
“Did you all plan to say that?” I said. “I bet you two spent eons waiting for the perfect moment to be embarrassingly cliché.”
Cressa’s lips thinned. “You’re going to test me, aren’t you?” Her gaze flicked up, beyond me. “Finally.”
I looked over my shoulder to the entrance of the throne room and saw gold. Hair and skin like sunlight, eyes like two citrine jewels.
It was a tall god with golden hair and eyes that matched. He strode into the throne room, his long legs encased in black, the white shirt he wore left untied at the neck. A smile appeared as he spotted me. “Well, hello,” he drawled, and I tensed. The god knelt in front of me. His gaze swept over my features.
“What do you think, Taric?” Cressa demanded.
This was the third god. They were all here.
“I think you finally succeeded.” He stared, reaching for me. “Hell, just like he described. This has—”
I reacted without thought, unsheathing the butter knife when he gripped my arm. Twisting into Taric, I thrust the knife as hard as I could—
The impact of the knife meeting the flesh of his chest rattled the bones in my hand and arm. The knife snapped in two. My mouth dropped open as I jerked the ruined blade back. I’d known it wouldn’t do much damage, but I hadn’t thought it would do that. Good gods… I lifted my gaze to Taric’s.
“Was that a butter knife? Really?” A fair brow arched. “Did that make you feel better?”
I swung again, aiming the broken end at his eye.
Taric caught my wrist, twisting sharply. I gritted my teeth at the bite of pain. My fingers spasmed open. The useless knife slipped from my hand.