Chapter Thirty-One
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The god before her was as beautiful and bloodcurdling as he had been the first time Elara had laid eyes upon him. His face was that of a young man, though he was centuries old. Black hair striped with red was combed off the Star’s face to match upswept burgundy eyes. Tattoos crawled over his pale skin: playing cards, a circus tent, a ram, all alongside grotesque frescoes of war and death. The images wrapped around a warrior’s bare torso—one honed to kill—beneath a sharply tailored jacket. Her eyes caught on the words that she had tried to forget since her birthday, a line scrawled under his left eye. Divine Violence.
Enzo leapt in front of Elara, dagger drawn. Fire rippled off its blade, and he lunged at Ariete.
The god side-stepped his attack easily, flicking a blow of starlight at him.
It knocked the prince off his feet and he landed on the floor, where he lay unmoving.
‘No!’ Elara screamed, running towards Enzo. He was still breathing, and Ariete looked down at him, at the fire still rippling off his fallen blade.
‘Interesting,’ he murmured.
Elara turned, and with a howl flung her dagger at Ariete. Her aim was immaculate, but Ariete was a Star. He whipped the knife from the air, clenching it blade-first with his palm. Then his grin grew ever wider, so wide that his pointed fangs were fully visible as he slowly uncurled his hand, rivulets of glittering blood running down it. He brought the knife to his tongue and ran the blade along it.
‘Oh, how I love a vicious woman,’ he sighed, a sing-song tone in his voice as he took another step forwards. His charm coated the room in a shriek of clanging swords and overwhelming bloodlust. Elara gazed wildly to Enzo, still unconscious, and reached blindly for her powers—a shadow, an illusion, anything. She flung her hand.
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ Ariete sang, and was upon her in two strides. Elara gave a cry as the Star gripped her hair, yanking her head back, her neck bare to him. In utter horror, she screamed as his fangs pierced her neck, and a lancing pain flooded through her. It burned, oh skies, it burned. ‘Demon’s venom,’ he murmured, as she felt it drown her magick, weaken her until she sank against him. ‘And the only cure is a Star’s blood.’ He chuckled as she swooned, Sofia screaming and pleading.
Ariete brushed a thumb over Elara’s cheek, almost tenderly, before whispering into her ear, ‘If I cannot kill you, then I will keep you.’ His gaze flicked to Enzo’s prone body.
Elara tried to fight, tried to struggle, but the venom was dragging her down, down, down. ‘No,’ she croaked, one final time, hands outstretched to Enzo. And then there was only darkness.