CHAPTER 13
Frankie
The tent is louder than I expect when I step inside. A few females glance up. One lifts her mug in a quick greeting. Another nudges the female beside her and nods toward me, curious but not unfriendly.
Anatha spots me right away. She crosses the space with a bright grin and presses a mug into my hand. “Here. Try this. It’ll help you settle in.”
I follow her deeper inside, careful not to knock over the mugs and bowls covering the low tables. Roasted spice hits my nose. A few females shuffle aside to make space as we pass, giving me quick once-overs and returning to whatever they were doing.
Beleth pats the empty cushion next to her. But Anatha lifts her mug and motions to me.
“This is Frankie, Zarreth’s mate,” she announces. Her words are full of so much pride, it aches.
“She’s already family,” Beleth adds.
The red-skinned female from earlier raises her mug. “First mating in decades. The fates chose well. Welcome.”
The kindness catches me a little off guard and I need to swallow so I can speak. “Thank you. I’m glad to meet you all.”
The noise shifts as we finally sit. Laughter rises from a group on the left.
A cluster of females sit on cushions, all focusing on a female with horns as black as the obsidian mountains.
They’re striking against her golden hair.
Her violet gaze meets mine, and her smile softens.
I see why her friends hang on every word.
She leans toward the females beside her and murmurs something. They glance over at me, shaping their expressions into polite smiles. These must be the cool kids.
Placing her mug on the table, she leans forward. “We should welcome her,” she says warmly. “It’s been ages since a true mate walked into this tent.”
I thought the introduction was the welcome. I try not to look nervous as a few voices call out.
“Yes! Great idea, Sable.”
“It’s been too long.”
One of them finishes scraping her blade along a whetstone and holds it up. “I have the dagger.”
Across from her, another demon tips back the last of her drink and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Holding up her mug she says, “I got the Chalice.”
My stomach drops. What have I gotten myself into now?
Anatha leans over and whispers, “It’s tradition. We all share our blood as a sign of acceptance. It’s only a small cut. You’ll barely feel it.”
My hands go cold at the idea of cutting. This isn’t the same as before. I know that. But that feeling…what if it makes me want to cut again?
A table shifts next to me, bringing my focus back. Grabbing my cushion, I scoot as everyone forms a circle. The blonde female, Sable, ends up on my right, close enough that our knees touch.
Anatha already has the dagger and cup in her hand when she steps into the center.
She raises her palm, giving me a warm smile.
A faint metallic scent fills the tent as she makes a cut and squeezes her fist, allowing blood to drip into the chalice.
She says something in another language and passes the cup to Beleth.
I try to make out the words every time they’re spoken, but my turn is edging closer and I have no idea what they’re saying. God, I wish Jess was here. I fidget with the hem of my shirt. Stay calm, Frankie. You can do this.
I barely register the movement when a hand closes over mine. Sable leans in and whispers, “In…san-GUI-ne…re-CI-pi-mus,” slowly breaking down the chant in syllables. She nods her head and smiles when I repeat the words back to her.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice low, as the cup stops in front of me. My throat feels tight, and for a second I just stare at the dark swirl inside.
The demon to my left nudges me and I take the cup and dagger from her. I hate that my hands are shaking. This isn’t the same.
Sable shifts closer. “You can do it.”
I pull in a breath and hold it as the blade presses into my palm, making the cut. The moment my skin splits, the old feeling hits. The rush, the pull that whispers just a little deeper.
No! This is different. It has to be.
I breathe through my teeth, thankful when the feeling fades.
Holding my fist over the cup, I squeeze. Before the first drop falls, fingers close around my wrist—Sable’s fingers. Did I do something wrong?
Her voice is loud enough for the entire circle to hear. “Wait. Frankie, stop.”
Everything freezes. What’s happening?
She rises halfway, still holding my wrist. Her smile is soft, almost apologetic. “I know this was my idea. I just wanted her to feel welcome, and I thought it’d make Z happy.” Her eyes glisten with remorse. “But I should never have suggested this.”
What is she talking about? What’s wrong?
A few females murmur to one another as she lifts our joined hands, careful not to spill the cup. Her forked tongue slips against her teeth as she goes on. “We should think before we drink this. We all know what she is, right?”
Oh God! She seemed so nice. Why is she doing this?
The red-skinned female turns to Anatha. “What is she talking about?”
Someone else says, “What is she?”
Anatha steps forward, her expression firm. “Not now, Sable.”
She widens her eyes, all innocence. “I regret making a scene, Anatha, but they have a right to know.” She looks around the circle. “She’s the Realm Eater.”
My eyes close. I should’ve seen this coming. The cup falls when I yank my wrist away. Blood splashes across the ground as frightened gasps and whispers fill the tent. A female on the far side pulls her child behind her. “The Realm Eater?”
“I won’t hurt you,” I say, even as the darkness prickles at my fingers.
“Get her back!” someone snaps.
“That’s enough,” Anatha barks. “That title is from old stories…”
“Old stories?” A sharp voice cuts in. “We almost drank her blood!”
It’s too much. The noise. The blame. The fear. All of it is closing in.
My vision sharpens. No, not now. Not here. I drop my eyes, trying to hide their glow.
“Look at her!” Sable calls out. “Her hands. See? It’s already starting.”
I don’t need to look. I can feel the shadows crawling up my arms, answering every terrified voice around me.
“She’s dangerous.”
I jerk my head up.
Her smile is sharp enough to draw blood. For a split second, the sweetness drops when her slit pupils lock onto me. But it snaps into place the moment she turns to face the others. “It’s not safe for us to have her here.”
The darkness is gnawing at me, trying to get out. My fingers slip into my pocket, brushing the cool steel I shouldn’t want. I need to let it out. It’s eating at me. I can’t handle it.
I push to my feet, running from the tent before I hurt someone. Anatha says something behind me, my name maybe. But it barely reaches me.
Only one voice does.
“You don’t belong here, and you definitely don’t belong with ZeeZee.”