Chapter 17 The Act
The Act
“Pray for your king this sickness season.”
— Henvri Joye, High Healer
Zain greeted me and grabbed my hand, leading me into his lavish chambers. His bed was at least five times the size of any I had ever seen, filled with luxurious black blankets and fluffy fur pillows. He stood with his back against the edge of the bed and a glass of vodka in hand.
“I must say, Elora, you clean up nicely.” The devilish amusement on his face was nothing short of sinister.
With slow steps, I approached the Warlock, doing my best to keep my forearm turned inward to hide the King's Mark. If he were to realize I had a greater value, I might never get to leave.
“You think so?” I teased. My heart thumped so hard I thought it might explode.
“I think—” he began, boring into my eyes.
“You think nothing.”
Looking down at his lips, I pushed him onto the bed before he could mutter another word, sending his glass falling to the floor.
He tried to sit back up, but was met by my hand at his lower abdomen. I pulled the stupid lace garment over my head and climbed on top of the Warlock. He was beautiful, with blazing red hair and a chiseled, shimmering physique.
Perhaps he was an illusion too. A pretty package to hide the stolen Nature lurking beneath his skin.
Straddling his lap, I leaned over to meet his face. His mouth twitched into a smile a moment before our lips met.
I softly opened my mouth as the Warlock sat up, holding me against him. He was warm and tasted of vodka and cigars. Reaching my hands around him, I dragged my fingers across his back before pulling off his shirt.
Pressing his hands against my hips, my chest met his as he kissed and bit at my neck.
I ran one hand through his hair while reaching the other for his trousers.
In a frenzy, he flipped us over and yanked me to the edge of the mattress.
He snapped his fingers, and the rest of his clothes were gone.
He stood at the end of the bed, scanning my body ravenously.
The Warlock placed his hands delicately on my thighs as he beheld me, his first Blackheart.
He slowly caressed my leg as he brought his face below my navel. I tugged at his hair, draping my legs over his broad shoulders as he began to feast. He inserted his fingers inside me in a rapid motion. I didn’t need to count the paintings on the walls to know he was experienced.
I moaned softly, letting him toy with me.
There was no harm in enjoying it. Within a few moments, I was pulling Zain onto the bed and pushing him onto his back again.
He traced my spine with his finger as I found my place on top.
I grabbed his length, fit for a Warlock, positioning it teasingly before slowly sliding down, enjoying the surprise in his eyes.
“Oh, fuck,” he moaned.
Seated to the hilt, I ground against him, leaning in playfully to grab his neck. He pulled my hair, reminding me who was in charge.
I placed my hand around the necklace Sitara had given me before focusing back on the Warlock. His eyes disappeared with every roll of my hips. He was easily the most striking man I’d ever lain with, possibly even the best altogether. I leaned over to kiss him again.
For Sitara.
I took him as deep as possible, pressing my mouth to his.
My Nature exploded from my core. Dark, hot poison flooded between my thighs and erupted from my throat and into his.
His eyes flew open as he desperately tried to push me off, but I squeezed my thighs tighter.
I am inescapable.
My Nature worked through his skin quickly, choking him and infesting his groin and mouth. He raised a palm to his neck, trying to heal himself. I grabbed his wrist, pressing every bit of poison I could summon into his flesh, my darkness entirely swallowing his light.
Necrosis spread like wildfire around Zain’s lips and crotch. He clawed at his throat, unable to speak. I climbed off of him, taking in the view of his naked body as it wilted. He gazed at me with pleading eyes, as if he could not understand why.
I knelt by his side, leaning in close enough to ensure I was heard and understood clearly by the fading Warlock.
“Caged birds do not forget how to fly,” I said.
His eyes bulged one final time in protest, his body flailing until it was completely overrun with venom.
My venom. My Nature.
I did not spare him another glance as I stood. He was nothing but rotting flesh and a bad memory.
The ugly walls of gold and black cracked, melting away and transforming into something else entirely. I did not cower or run as the cage crumbled.
The illusion dissipated. Instead of a luxurious bed, Zain’s lifeless body lay on dirt.
We weren’t inside a manor at all. We were surrounded by a woodland village, filled with humble, earthy cottages.
The women from the gardens were scattered around, no longer wearing sheer gowns but all sorts of sweaters, dresses, and outfits more fitted to their liking.
I stood in the middle of the village, exposed and naked, with black poison running down my legs and dripping from my mouth.
Everyone stared. Both shock and fright were painted across their gazes.
Sitara and Riven stood out among the villagers. Sitara’s silver hair was now a beautiful brown, and her pale green, watering eyes were full of light.
Riven was completely still, eyes softening as he registered where we were and what I had done.
I did not cower as they took in my bare body. I displayed my Nature and all that came with it.
“Warrior,” Sitara declared.
The women gathered in closer, seeing the dead Warlock for themselves.
One by one, they all repeated after Sitara.
“Warrior. Warrior. Warrior.”
But I was no warrior. I was just a bird.