Chapter 11
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule eleven: When exploring new boner-killing strategies, panic creativity will get you everywhere.
There’s such beauty in screaming into the endless void.
Of course, all my screaming is internal, and the endless void is yet another fancy function where I’m being paraded around like a fur coat (pretty, and very much dead inside).
The Council is reconvening after returning to their home realms. Apparently, they were concerned about the disappearance of souls and were adamant about looking into their own realms before deciding on a course of action. Now, they will begin discussions on how to address the issue.
How do I know all of this?
It turns out that having years of experience as an introvert translates well into not being allowed to speak. Even though Leon keeps me under a magical gag, I’m mentally logging everything I hear.
I’ve been on edge, waiting for him to explode about me locking him out.
But he hasn’t said a word about last night.
And while I haven’t made any progress on finding Irena, hopefully, my odds are about to shift for the better.
As of tomorrow, Leon will be tied up in meetings with the Council, and I’ll be handed off to one of Need’s babysitters.
I’d like to think that a change of jailer will give me more opportunities to go poking around, but only if I survive long enough to enjoy the upgrade.
To celebrate the Council’s reconvening, Need is hosting a dinner for all the realm leaders and their ambassadors.
Before we left the room, Leon emphasized how important this party was and noted that if I embarrassed him, he’d have to punish me with extreme force.
His voice turned regretful as he tutted over what a shame it would be to lose all the ground we’ve gained on healing ‘us.’
I didn’t miss the way he adjusted the bulge in his pants as he said it.
Honestly, it’s a good thing I don’t have anxiety issues, or this situation might be terrible for my mental health (sarcasm). Inside, I’m a nervous wreck. But at this point, I’m repressing my emotions at a varsity level.
Who needs feelings? Everyone knows robots are going to dominate the world(s?).
The dinner is being held in Need’s dining hall, only this time, the table is filled with guests.
When we entered the room, my gaze immediately flicked to the spot where Kenzie’s blood had recently stained the floors.
My stomach turned, and I almost stumbled, until I noticed Need eyeing me with a self-satisfied expression.
I stared right back, doing my best to appear cold and indifferent.
Grieving is for peacetime. I’m already at war.
I’m not sure why I thought this dinner would be a happy affair, but apparently, many of the realms aren’t on the best of terms. You could cut the tension in here with a knife.
Murderous glares are being thrown across the room, and even Need, who is seated at the head of the table, about twenty people down, looks on edge. The Fae Queen and her evil daughter are seated beside Need, and while I know the queen is a supporter of Need, others at this dinner are not.
I’ve already recognized a few of the ambassadors that I met at Morgana’s party. Unfortunately, one of those ambassadors happens to be one of the twisted sisters from the Angelic Realm. The one that I may have threatened when she hit on Sin.
Gabrielle.
She’s seated on the other side of the table, about ten seats down. While we haven’t spoken, she’s been glaring my way every few minutes. My odds of making it through the night are starting to shrink. My palms sweat, even as I sip my water.
I’m almost positive I called Sin my mate when I threatened her. All it would take is a single word to Leon, and my plans would be ruined.
Leon has been deep in conversation with a man to his right. As usual, he hasn’t bothered introducing me to anyone or given me permission to speak. He occasionally glances down at me, puffing up with pride when he sees how quietly I’m sitting.
Usually, I at least use my facial expressions to interact with others. But not tonight. I need to make it to tomorrow, so I can hopefully start searching for Irena. That means not pissing off Leon.
Putting down my water, I once again feel someone watching me.
Only this time, I find Ragna watching me.
She’s sitting a few seats to my right, across the table, and she sighs when our gazes collide.
Her disappointment is almost palpable, like she had such high hopes for the prophesied one, only to see them crushed by the real deal.
Honestly, I can’t even blame her. I’d fire me if I could. But seeing as I’m stuck here and working with very few resources, maybe she could ease off a little?
I give her the slightest hint of a shrug, as if to say, ‘look, lady, I am doing my best, so please don’t judge me unless you’re about to sneak me a magical spoon that can kill a Destroyer.’ I hope the gesture conveys my message properly.
“So, Leon. I was absent last week and missed the gossip. What’s this I hear about a wedding?
” The question comes from a man seated beside the Fae Queen.
He’s dressed in emerald, matching the lace trim of the queen’s dress.
Maybe he’s her consort? Either way, he’s sitting far enough away that he basically has to yell the question, and everyone goes silent, waiting to hear Leon’s answer.
Leon gives an easy, charismatic smile as he stands to address the table. The movements look so practiced that I wonder if the man was told to ask the question. That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.
“I’m glad you asked. Esteemed Council and dignitaries, as you all know, long ago, a prophecy was made about a mortal who would love a Creator, only to be reborn to love a Destroyer.
It was said that this mortal would bring about a new era for all the realms. I am pleased to announce that our prophesied mortal has been reborn.
Vivian, my destined love from Atlantis, has returned.
We are to be married in ten days, and my fated mate is honored to take her place behind me, so that I may lead us into a new era.
One of peace and unity, for all the realms.”
Just as he finishes his (definitely rehearsed) spiel, someone scoffs, “Why in the Fates would you be leading, when the prophecy clearly states that Vivian will be the one to bring about a new era?”
The question comes from Ragna, and I see a few people nodding in agreement, but not nearly enough.
Leon isn’t fazed and gives a small laugh as his hand settles on the back of my neck. “My mate must be protected, of course. And the safest place for a woman is behind the man she serves.”
He sits back down, signaling that he’s done with any possible questions.
I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I give in and stare daggers at Leon, some Council members might suspect that I’m not here willingly. But with the leash, Leon can easily twist my actions and change the narrative. Or I can do nothing, biding my time for a chance to find Irena.
It feels like yet another piece of me is chipped away when I keep my eyes locked on the table and do nothing.
Powerless.
This feels powerless.
Just the way Leon likes me.
“Curious, though, that you keep referring to her as your mate, when you’ve yet to complete the bond. I was under the impression that bonding was accompanied by urges of the flesh. Does she find your performance lacking? Is that why you’re still unmated?”
Ice runs down my spine. I turn to Gabrielle, who asked the question, loudly.
Leon’s hand clamps onto my thigh. I want to jump out of my chair at the contact, but the leash doesn’t let me. Still, his grip tightens painfully. The gesture is both dominating and punishing, like he’s blaming me for embarrassing him.
I’m definitely doomed.
He gives Gabrielle a tight smile. “I assure you, there is no problem at all. But as my mate was previously a mortal, I don’t wish to overwhelm her with so many changes at once. We will be mated before the ceremony.”
His answer must quell any lingering doubt in the Council’s attendees, since the conversation swiftly moves to new topics. Still, he doesn’t release me, even as he returns to talking to the man beside him.
I try to be subtle as I slide my dinner knife up the long sleeve of my gown.
Even though the leash won’t let me hurt Leon, if he tries anything tonight, I won’t hesitate to slit my own throat. While I don’t think it will kill me, I’d like to think that a gaping neck wound will ruin the mood.
I think I’ve gotten away with it, until I glance up and find narrowed, pink eyes watching me.
Lilanthara.
She glances from my sleeve to my face and smirks.
So unbelievably fucked.