Chapter 34 Keira
KEIRA
Ifall through some kind of trapdoor and hit the ground hard before I even understand I'm falling.
I cry out as my body slams into cold stone or concrete, the impact punching the air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my hip and shoulder, radiating down my back.
My right heel snaps clean off.
I gasp, pulling air back into my chest, my hands scraping against rough ground as I try to push myself up.
Everything is dark.
Not the dim kind of dark. The kind where you can't tell if your eyes are open or closed. The kind that makes you forget which direction is up.
"OCTAVIAN!" I scream, throat raw. My voice bounces off the walls.
Nothing. No footsteps. No reply. Just me.
I twist my head, searching for any hint of light, any shape in the blackness.
I drag myself to my feet. My palm is bleeding from the fall. Since one shoe is without a heel, they're completely useless to walk on. I yank both shoes off and clutch them like weapons.
My heart pounds as I take a few slow steps forward, my arms outstretched, moving blindly.
The floor is ice cold and it sends a chill through me.
"Hello?! Is anyone there?" I ask the darkness and get no reply.
My nerves get the best of me and fear takes hold.
"Help! Someone help me, please!"
My voice cracks, desperation bleeding through.
Nothing answers.
I'm alone.
My breath comes faster now, shallow and uneven.
Then, suddenly, up ahead—
A flicker.
A single candle lights up ahead of me. Then another. Then another. One by one, sconces along the walls ignite in synchronized sequence, stretching into a circle of golden flame.
They're electric, maybe. But the way they flicker, it feels real.
The chamber reveals itself slowly.
High ceiling and stone columns, and towering above it all, against the back wall—
The statue.
The same one I was just standing in front of.
She's here again.
The Morrígan.
Her three faces stare down with that same mix of agony, sorrow, and triumph.
My stomach drops.
"What the hell…"
Did it follow me? Or is this a different one?
No, that can't be.
This is another one.
Which means this was planned. This place was built.
I spin, searching the space. The room is bigger and everything seems to disappear into darkness. I don't see any windows or doors.
Just me and her.
"HELLO?!"
My voice bounces off the walls, louder this time, angrier.
Still no response.
I take another step forward, clutching my shoes tighter, as if they'll protect me.
"Let me out of here!"
Then, all at once, more candles ignite.
Hundreds of them.
They wrap around… Is that?
An altar.
Incense burns on either side, the smoke curling upward in thin streams, and what looks like blood is splattered across the floor.
My pulse spikes.
"What is this place?"
There's a sudden movement above me.
I jerk my head up, my heart rattling in my chest. The newly lit candles illuminate a path circling above me.
A figure stands on a platform high above the altar, draped in a red robe, hood pulled low over their face.
"Keira Killaney. Welcome," the male voice says calmly. "We've been waiting for this moment for a very long time."
I tighten my grip on my shoes, my knuckles white.
"Who are you?" I demand, my voice sharp despite the tremor running through me. "What the hell is this place?"
He spreads his arms like he's welcoming me to a church. "This is where I was reborn. The home of the Morrígan," he says, pointing to the statue. "She's here. Can you feel her?"
I glance at the statue and then back up at him.
"No, I feel kidnapped," I say, trying my best to sound brave. "Who are you?"
He steps closer to the railing. "The rightful heir to your throne of lies and deceit. The truth you've never been told. The end to your family's false reign."
"You sound insane."
"No," he says. "I'm free. And now, so are they."
As he speaks, figures emerge from the shadows.
One by one, all wearing the same red robe and hood.
There must be a dozen or more of them, all circling me and the altar, stepping into the candlelight like they've been waiting in silence for hours.
All of their hoods point in my direction.
"My family," the man says. "The chosen children of the Morrígan."
"You're the Phantom King," I say.
"I've been called that," the man above me says. "Now, please take your seat at the altar."
I back up a step. "You want to worship a war goddess? Be my guest. But I'm not part of this."
He shakes his head slowly. "You are this, Keira. You've always been part of it. The Morrígan marked your bloodline for your bad deeds, and tonight, she'll receive what she's owed."
I laugh, but I'm freaking out and panicking at the same time.
Damn it, where is Octavian?
"Yeah, I think I'll pass. Thanks, though."
"The ceremony is about to begin," he continues, ignoring me. "The Morrígan demands a blood sacrifice and you are her calling."
Ice floods my veins and I refuse to move.
"Bring her to the altar."
The robed figures surrounding me start to move.
All at once.
I bolt and sprint toward the nearest gap in the circle, my shoes still clutched in one hand.
But they're faster.
Hands grab my arm, my waist, yanking me backward.
I scream, twisting, swinging my heel like a weapon. The sharp edge catches someone in the face, and they grunt, stumbling back.
But there are too many.
Another set of hands locks around my other arm. Someone grabs my hair, wrenching my head back.
"Get the fuck off me!"
I kick, thrashing, but they're strong. Too strong.
They drag me toward the altar, my feet scraping uselessly against the floor.
"LET ME GO!"
I wiggle and fight through the pain.
"OCTAVIAN!" I scream, fear taking over my body.
"He's not coming," a man says quietly into my ear. "No one is."
Then one of them grabs my jaw, forcing my head still.
I catch a glimpse of a white cloth before it's pressed over my mouth and nose.
The smell burns the inside of my nostrils.
I try to hold my breath, but my lungs are already screaming.
I gasp as my legs give out.
The hands holding me are the only thing keeping me upright now.
My vision blurs, the candles bleeding into streaks of gold.
The last thing I see is the statue.
The weeping face staring down at me.
And then,
Nothing.