Chapter 84 #3
“What do you mean?” Castellan cocked his head to the side, studying her face. He had no need to fear her. Knew as well as she did one of his wishes prevented her from causing him any harm.
“I choose to be the monster,” she snarled, rearing back and slamming the sharp points of Dother’s crown into Eris’s throat.
Eris’s brown eyes widened, lips parting on an inhale. “Mora?” he gurgled, stumbling back a step.
Blood welled down his neck, soaking into his tunic when she pulled the crown free. “Did you forget I have teeth?” she hissed as he fell to his knees.
“No!” Castellan screamed, rushing to stand and toppling his chair.
Mora dove on Eris, plunging those sharp points back into his throat.
Over and over. With every swing of her fist, the room shifted, from the white walls of the Council Room to the stone walls of Dother’s.
Eris’s eyes morphing from brown to azure and back so many times she lost count, until she wasn’t sure who she was killing.
He clung to her wrist, staring up at her the entire time. A wet, raspy gurgle rattling in his throat until it suddenly stopped.
The lords shouted, some gagging and running from the room, while Elodie watched with bored disdain. Not even standing for the man who’d found her and brought her to the castle.
Steely arms wrapped around Mora’s center, yanking her off Eris and tossing her to the floor.
“Eris!” Castellan cried, kneeling next to his friend, hands shaking.
But there was nothing he could do. Puncture wounds peppered his throat, his cheeks, his chest, blood pooling on the ground beneath him. His breath stilling.
Mora sat up, her palm digging into the bloodied crown as she righted herself. Unflinching when Castellan looked back, a silver fire burning in his wrathful stare. “I will make you pay,” he seethed, in a low tone she hardly recognized.
Her laugh was a cruel snicker, one she’d thought she’d reserved for Dother.
“What more can you take from me?” Blood stained her white bodice, new drops blooming on the ivory as they dribbled down her face and dripped from her chin.
Blending perfectly with her skirt. The warm, sticky feeling soothed her, coating her like liquid armor.
She clung to the feeling as she stood, her spine perfectly straight.
No emotion painting her bloodied face. Then Mora waltzed over to Castellan and dropped the crown on his head.
Smiling when sanguine stained his blond curls, enveloping him in Eris’s death.
“I abdicate the throne,” she said, lifting her chin higher.
“Long live King Castellan, anointed in blood. May it stain his soul until his dying breath.”
“I will pass you around the nobility.” His upper lip curled while he rose to his full height, glaring down at her. “You will spend your endless days granting their every wish.”
She leaned closer, until their noses nearly touched.
“I will spend my days making every last one of you regret the moment you decided to use me. Even when you’re long dead, Castellan.
When they’ve forgotten your gods damned name.
I will anoint you all in blood.” Mora trailed a finger up his cheek, gathering droplets of crimson and smearing it between her thumb and forefinger, her voice laced with quiet rage.
“And one day I’ll tear the crown away from your unworthy bloodline. ”
Castellan tore it from his head and tossed the bloodstained thing to the floor. “Perhaps a few decades in your flask will calm you.”
A cold smile tugged on her cheeks. “I could use the rest, but I haven’t finished granting your wish.”
“Yes, you have, Mora. I am king. We’re done here.”
Mora looked to Elodie, her grin growing wider. “There’s a Halfling with us,” she cooed, tipping her head toward Eris’s cooling body, “and so close to such violence. I’d hate for something bad to happen, but, thankfully, your wish allows me to save her and take her somewhere safe.”
Castellan froze, his breaths quickening while the color in his face grew ashen.
“No,” he breathed. “No, Mora, she’s barely a Halfling anymore.
A Fae stole her power, she can hardly...
” He reached for Mora’s arm, his tight grip digging into her bicep, nails cutting into her skin.
It stung, but smoke already oozed through her pores, coating his fingers in frigid darkness. “Mora, please.”
“What does she mean?” Elodie asked, standing from her seat. Reaching for her brother, her fingers barely grazing his forearm.
“I hope it was worth it,” Mora snarled at Castellan, bursting into a wrathful wave of obsidian and enveloping Elodie in her dark embrace.
There was nothing she could do; the Halflings were doomed, and it was Mora who’d unknowingly damned them. But she would offer them one final gift before they faced whatever came next. A taste of revenge—let them paint Cannamar with Elodie’s blood.
Castellan screamed as Mora slipped through the hall and dove out the nearest window, careening toward the islet. Elodie thrashing helplessly in her grip.