Chapter 40
ELLIE
The world is a dizzying, nauseating blur of motion. Strong arms clamp around my torso, and my legs kick uselessly in the air.
I’m being carried—dragged, really—down a long, unfamiliar corridor that smells of antiseptic and something else, something coppery and wrong.
My own panicked breaths are loud in my ears, drowning out the sound of their boots squeaking on the polished floor.
“Let go of me!” I thrash, my elbow connecting with something solid. A grunt sounds, but the grip only tightens, a band of iron across my ribs.
Where are Beckett, Zane, and Dominic? Are they dead? Oh god. I wouldn’t survive if I lost them. Not after…not after Landon and Ryker.
Already, I can feel pieces of myself fading away, turning to nothing but ash in the breeze. My soul… It’s no longer whole. It never will be again.
Landon and Ryker are dead.
A strangled sob catches in my throat.
They’re dead, and I want to die.
But only after I murder the bitch who took them from me and ensure she can’t hurt anyone I love ever again.
Steely determination sweeps through me, eclipsing every other emotion. The pain is still there, still present, but…numb.
I’m numb.
Aria walks ahead, her back ramrod straight, her black cloak a slash of violent color against the almost clinical white. She doesn’t turn, doesn’t acknowledge my struggle. She just glides, as if this is a triumphant procession.
“Stop fighting, my sweet Ellie,” she says, her voice a smooth, poisonous melody that makes my skin crawl. “It’s unbecoming.”
“I will never stop fighting you,” I spit out. “I’ll fucking kill you if it’s the last thing I do.”
And it will be, of that I have no doubt.
We reach a set of heavy, ornate doors, and she finally turns. A flicker of something cold and reptilian flashes in the startling blue depths of her eyes before it’s gone. She offers a serene smile, and the sight skitters across my skin like a thousand spiders unleashed.
I fucking hate it when she smiles.
It’s so unnatural on her face, like her lips don’t quite know what to do.
“Take her inside,” she commands the two brutes holding me.
They shove me through the doors into a grand, circular chamber. It’s a goddamn throne room, dominated by a massive chair carved from what looks like bone and polished obsidian.
Hysterical laughter bubbles in my throat.
The fucking bitch had a throne made for herself?
I’m honestly not even surprised. That seems to be on brand for what I know of the egotistical, narcissistic asshole.
I can practically picture her sitting on her throne, her chin hefted imperiously in the air, her mask in place as she reigns over her “inferiors.”
Aria’s goons drop me onto the marble floor, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. I push myself up onto my hands and knees, gasping, as Aria sweeps past me to ascend the dais to her throne.
She turns, and this time, the cordial mask she wears behind her actual mask doesn’t just slip. It shatters.
The serene, benevolent leader is gone. In her place is a monster, her beautiful face contorted with a hatred so pure and visceral, it steals the air from my lungs. Her lips peel back from her teeth in a snarl.
“Oh, my dear, sweet Ellie,” she begins, her voice dripping with a venomous delight that makes my stomach churn. “Did you really think that I ever saw you as anything more than a disappointing reminder of a weakness I indulged in?” She takes a step down from the dais, her eyes burning into me.
“I never wanted you as an apprentice,” she hisses, advancing on me.
“An apprentice implies a transfer of power, a legacy. No. I wanted a pawn. A pretty, malleable little thing to dangle in front of the masses. And when your usefulness was at its absolute peak, I wanted a sacrifice. The ultimate offering to cement my power.”
She throws her arms wide, gesturing to the room, to the world beyond it. “This is my legacy. I am the goddess here. I have supreme control. You were just the key to unlock the final door, and now that it’s open, you are utterly. Fucking. Useless.”
Her words are meant to break me, to shatter my spirit. But as she rants, her voice rising in egotistical fervor, my focus narrows. My mind goes blank of everything but the cold, sharp weight tucked into the bodice of my dress.
Zane’s gift.
A bedazzled dagger, deceptively beautiful, lethally sharp.
And hidden among all the tulle of this goddamn gaudy dress.
Aria didn’t think to check me for weapons. She didn’t believe sweet, innocent Ellie would willingly use one against her. Against anyone.
She doesn’t know me at all.
Fuck.
Her.
My fingers, trembling slightly, inch up my side.
The guards are watching Aria, their attention engrossed by their leader’s glorious tirade.
I wonder if this is the first time they’ve seen her true face—all delicate features, tousled blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes capable of shredding your very soul to ribbons.
I feel the cool, smooth stones of the handle, the jagged edge of a rhinestone. My fingers close around the hilt.
With a sharp tug, I free it. The sound of the fabric ripping is lost in Aria’s monologue.
In one fluid motion, I surge to my feet and spin. The guard on my left is closest. I drive the dagger upward, aiming for the soft space beneath his ribs.
His eyes widen in shock, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he stumbles back, clutching his side.
Before the other can react, I pivot and lunge, slashing the blade in a vicious, upward arc. It sinks deep into his groin. He screams, a high, thin, reedy sound of agony as he collapses.
Aria’s rant cuts off. Her eyes, wide with disbelief and fury, lock onto me, then to the bloody dagger in my hand.
“You little bitch,” she whispers.
I don’t give her a chance to say more. I lunge at her, a raw, guttural scream tearing from my throat. We crash together, a tangle of limbs and fury.
She’s surprisingly strong, her nails raking down my arm, drawing blood. We stumble back toward her throne of bones, but I’m fueled by a rage hotter than any she could muster.
She manages to throw me off, and I land hard on the marble. She laughs, a harsh, ugly sound.
“You think this changes anything?” she sneers, circling me like a predator. “Even if you kill me, the Paragons of Prosperity will persevere! The system I built is bigger than one person. I am eternal!”
What she is, is fucking deranged. I don’t think I’ve ever truly grasped how fucked up Aria actually is. Her hold on reality is feeble, at best. She’s one second away from losing it completely and descending into complete and utter madness.
I push myself up, a grin spreading across my face, a feral, broken thing.
“Not if I take control,” I pant, wiping a smear of blood from my lip.
“They all see me as your daughter. Your chosen one. A motherfucking goddess. They’ll listen to me.
” I laugh, and the sound is hollow and full of promise.
“I’ll take your precious legacy, and I will burn it to the ground. I will ruin everything you worked for.”
Her face contorts with pure, unadulterated rage. The mask of The Divine One is gone forever, replaced by the spitting, vengeful woman beneath.
My mother.
She roars and charges me.
That’s when I hear it. Behind me, the sound of masculine shouts, of impact, of pain. My men. They’re here.
Aria sees the flicker of hope in my eyes, and her own widen in manic fury. She pulls a thin, stiletto-like blade from a sheath on her thigh. With a speed that belies her age, she lunges.
Pain, white-hot and searing, explodes in my lower stomach. I gasp, my vision swimming as I look down and see the hilt of her knife protruding from my stomach. My knees buckle, but I don’t fall. Not yet.
She leans in, her face a mask of triumph, her lips brushing my ear. “I win.”
“No,” I choke out, raising my own hand. In it, my bedazzled dagger, still slick with the blood of her men, is steady. “I do.”
With the last of my strength, I drive the blade upward, sinking it deep into the soft flesh of her neck.
Her eyes go wide. A gurgling sound escapes her lips, a bubble of blood bursting from them. She stumbles back, her hands flying to her throat, her expression one of utter, shocked betrayal.
The world tilts. The pain in my stomach is a fire consuming me whole. I hear my name being shouted—Ryker, Landon, Beckett, Zane, Dominic.
A chorus of my men.
Wait…
Ryker and Landon?
They’re here?
Am I dead? Dreaming?
Are they alive?
A corrosive combination of hope and despair sweeps through me.
Hope…because they’re alive. They’re fucking alive.
Despair…because I won’t be for much longer.
Aria falls to her knees, then slumps forward onto the marble, her throne of bones watching over her still form.
I try to stand, to take a step, to go to my men, the loves of my life, but my legs won’t hold me. I only manage to clumsily climb to my knees.
The marble rushes up to meet me, and then there is only darkness.