Chapter 56 #2
Our bond tightened as Vaeron’s presence in my mind grew.
I sensed him, almost like he rested upon my shoulder, watching the events unfold.
I kept no barrier between us, allowing him access.
Because I had no idea where he actually was, and if the anxiety in his plea for me to come here this morning was any indication, he was ignorant to his sister and her husband’s plans.
The High Priestess stepped forward, expression alight with her connection to our deity. “There is no higher vibration than when two bodies become one. When we couple in Her name, we shift the energy in this room. We welcome in divinity.”
Shards of fury scraped down our bond. “Do not fucking move, Sylaira. Do not engage in whatever birdshit Iaoth is trying to pull. I’m coming.”
A few female Seers exchanged nervous glances. The one beside me murmured, “This isn’t right.”
Another across from us snatched bravery and spoke up. “And if we don’t wish to?”
The High Priestess gestured for one of the male Seers to step forward. In his hands, he carried two chalices glittering with diamonds.
“Then you will drink this draught,” she said simply, like it was anything but complicated.
There was no real choice here. They were going to wring something out of us one way or another.
“Where are you?” I asked Vaeron, trying to keep the desperate edge of fear from my tone.
“Still in Sivy. Iaoth sent me away this morning,” he ground out.
A knife slid between my ribs. Desperation bled from his side of the bond. His frantic movements, the sense of his wings snapping out, his primal urge to come to me, battered me.
But he’s still so far…
“I’ll drink it,” one of the more eager Seers volunteered. “And I will couple. Anything for our Goddess. Anything to prevent more precious lives from being lost.”
A grin spread across Iaoth’s face. “A true believer. A loyal disciple. You could all take lessons from her.”
Beaming, she rose and approached the center of the room. The male carrying the cups met her there. He handed one off to the High Priestess.
And as fate would have it, both Seers had irises the color of the hidden sky.
Servants spread cushions around them. Dread churned nausea in my gut as they sat across from one another.
The female looped her arm through his so their elbows connected. He took a small sip, then passed her the chalice. She did the same, all the while remaining joined with him.
The lights dimmed, but did not disappear entirely. They blurred, smearing the edges of reality, and all I could see was Heraphia and Iaoth, pouring their blood into a bowl. Marking themselves with runes. Waiting for a radiant thread to snap between them.
The buzzing in my body overtook all other senses. My heart thundered against my ribs, as I stared, unable to tear away from the scene before me.
One moment, the couple was slowly removing one another’s clothes. The next, a pulsing white glow stretched between Heraphia and Iaoth.
The two scenes overlapped, mind refusing to separate past from present, body primed with horror regardless.
The High Priestess’s rhythmic chanting only heightened the grip of my flashback. Something about the cadence of her words, the edge of her tone, kept me rooted there.
For a moment, I wished to disappear into a vision, so I could escape the memory that haunted me worse.
The male and females’ moans slid between her prayers.
Iaoth offered the chalice to others. Still more selected partners—male and female—and found space around the room.
A couple seated themselves on Heraphia’s chair.
That broke me.
“Get off of that!” I shouted, leaping to my feet.
“Sylaira,” Lyriasthe hissed, but I ignored her, stomping over to the people who dared take the place of my best friend.
The male tightened his grip on a female who had sat beside us at breakfast every day. She’d even made the Elessarum gesture at Heraphia’s funeral.
That only enraged me more.
I reached for them, only for binds of luminosity to yank me backward. A cry tore past my lips as I twisted on my bad knee.
Strong arms caught me, and when I looked up, Koron Stadiel’s face swallowed my view, all white and silver.
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped, yanking to get myself free.
But his hold was firm, bruising, and relentless.
Pain arced from me to Vaeron, and his snarl turned feral. “I’m almost there.”
I glared up at the ruler of all the Angels. Nothing lay behind his eyes. Soulless, cold, empty. Everything I expected from the male who purported Demons as unholy beasts who needed to be eradicated.
“Cup,” was all he said, his gaze never leaving mine.
“Absolutely not,” I spat, twisting once again to try to free myself.
“There is no other Seer with your power. Therefore, you must drink,” he stated like he could force me to do anything I didn’t want to do.
“Only Vaeron has the power to override my own wants. And he would not use his Command on me like that again,” I shot back, defiance surging with the maelstrom inside me.
The grin he offered chilled me to my core. “You foolish, foolish child.”
The Korona and High Priestess encircled me, like all the times I’d had visions of silver bars banging into the ground. A cage I never quite seemed to escape rebuilt itself around me, the sound of metal slamming down echoing in my ears.
I scoured the atrium, refusing to succumb to the helpless feeling, searching for any sign of Lyriasthe.
But she was gone.
No one was going to save me.