Chapter 2
Failure burned Vyrus’s throat. A God thwarted by the Goddess he loved.
Her heart was tied to Eusis, to the people she adored.
The Gods determined every decade, each kingdom would present a Tribute.
Honoured souls fed to the great volcano named in homage to Vyrus.
A gift to ensure he’d never again seek to destroy all Evella treasured.
— THE HISTORIES AND PROPHECIES OF THE STAR-CROSSED GODS: CHRONICLES OF VYRUS
The corner of my mouth twitched as Delver huffed out another heavy breath.
It took far longer than ten minutes to ascend the steps.
I made certain of it. Smythe seemed content to chatter through his frequent gasps, while my heart thundered.
From the way Delver pushed me in front of her and accidentally shoved the crossbow into me every few steps, she was keen to present me to my stepfather.
Resting my trembling hand against the stone frame, I stepped into the sparse oval entrance hall of the Tower.
I rolled my eyes. They called our prison a ‘Tower’.
A way to make our fortress appear more appealing.
The space overflowed with the scarlet uniforms of King Romero Thorne IV’s guards.
They chattered, their cigarillo smoke filling the usually sombre space, stinging my eyes and stealing my weak sight.
Smythe leaned against the doorframe, wiping his crimson brow with his sleeve as Delver tried, and failed, to stand straight.
Through my burning lungs, I struggled to suppress the fragile fluttering within.
The king of Drufaera – the man my mother had been forced to marry a mere month after my birth and my father’s death – had no reason to cross the Whispering Seas to the island where I was held.
The Tribute’s sacrifice was a Holy ceremony, not one to be besmirched with politics.
Every decade, each of the ten nations of the Northern lands presented an honoured soul to be given to the volcano named after Vyrus.
The prophecies spoke of disaster if we denied the vengeful God his human sacrifices.
Some moronic souls willingly volunteered to be Tributes.
The Asmaran Tribute strolled the narrow corridors with a constant grin I’d be more than content to relieve him of.
Others, such as I, were given the apparent honour of being selected by our regent to appease the jealous Vyrus.
We’d spend our final months in the Tower, reading The Prophecies and praying to Evella, preparing for our end.
For some reason, I found my faith in the saviour wavering.
If she loved us as the Sisters of Evella insisted, how could she sanction our deaths?
Evella had quit her throne in the cosmos, abandoned the Creator Vyrus, in order to watch over us and guide our fates.
She’d saved us from the meteor Vyrus had sent to decimate our tiny planet.
It was difficult to understand how a Goddess who’d given up the universe to protect us could endorse our executions.
Rolling my shoulders, I snorted at how King Romero’s appearance caused shivers to spill across my neck. During the hike, only one reason for his visit made sense…
He’d return me to the safety and solitude of my library. I closed my eyes, blew out a long breath. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to return to my research. A chance to prove myself. A chance to hide.
While I caught my breath, I wondered why he’d be willing to change his Tribute… Perhaps Enfys had learned of my fate?
No. I hadn’t opened a single letter from my half-sister since hearing the rumours of her impending engagement. Or maybe King Romero had realised my research at the library, though slow, was crucial if he wanted to discover the location of the precious lost Vyrium sites.
Pablo nudged me with his damp snout, and I raised my chin. There was only one way to find out.
‘Is he in the drawing room?’ I said, nodding in the general direction.
Smythe groaned.
‘Give us a minute, miss. You’ve led us on a right merry dance.’ He straightened up, exhaling deeply. ‘And don’t you go telling His Highness you were trying to break out. He’ll have our heads if he thinks we’re being a tad lax in our duty.’
‘I told you I wasn’t escaping,’ I said, attempting to smooth my skirts. ‘I was getting a head start.’
‘’Course,’ Smythe said, still breathing hard. ‘But watch what you say, eh miss? I quite like my head where it is.’
Delver mumbled under her breath, while grabbing my arm and yanking me towards the drawing room.
I wrenched my elbow free as Pablo came between us, and I lay my palm upon his back.
I bit back a smile, as even through the blotches marring my vision, I noticed the colour leaching from the guard’s face at the wolf’s proximity.
Standing before the dark oak door, I waited for the swirls dancing across my vision to settle.
My pulse quivered, blood charging through me like an inferno.
I’d never learn my fate if I simply hovered by the door.
Steeling my spine, I entered. The king’s hazy outline appeared, seated at a circular table.
He leaned back in the wooden chair, one immaculate dark blue trousered leg resting upon the other.
I squinted. His navy wool topcoat glittered with evening damp.
The image of the last time I’d seen him flashed through my mind.
I remembered how the rain struck the stained panes of my beloved library with more force than a stonemason’s hammer.
The smirk growing in the gloom – he ensured he’d stood in the darkest corner of the library – as he shoved a letter into my shaking hands.
The cursive script had been too small for my struggling eyes.
The pat on my shoulder after I slumped to my knees once he’d read out the contents.
The amused lilt to his tone when he informed me I’d been personally selected as the Drufaeran Tribute.
My hands gripping my dress, desperate for air, as I realised I’d pushed the regent too far in my pleas to ensure he shared the results of my research with The Alliance.
I’ve regretted not punching him in his perfectly smug face ever since.
Depending on the purpose of his visit I might still do it. I haven’t anything left to lose.
One of the Holy Sisters of Evella fetched him a pot of tea, pouring it into the solitary grey porcelain cup.
He looked up, a frown marring his tanned forehead as he took me in.
For a few heartbeats, I held his cold stare.
He looked just as he had the night he’d told me I was to be his sacrifice.
Dark hair, tinged with grey at his temples, slicked back with not a single strand out of place.
He ran his long fingers over his trim beard.
Although it was too dark to make out the colour, a shiver ran through me as his grey eyes narrowed.
If it weren’t for the frantic tapping on the table with his long fingers, the king would resemble the epitome of a relaxed royal he set out to portray.
‘Sorrow!’
I forced a weak smile onto my face as Enfys entered my eyeline; she grasped my hand. Her other hand clenched a pendant. One I suspected to be the silver-branched tree, the symbol of Evella; Mama had worn one too. It must have been five, six years since Enfys and I had last seen each other.
‘Enfys.’ I stood back, blinking. ‘You’ve…
you’ve grown.’ A choke caught in my throat as she came into shivery focus.
For a fleeting moment, I wondered if it was Mama standing before me.
Her unbound hair shone like a wheatsheaf on a summer’s evening, exactly the same shade as Mama’s, whereas mine was as dark as the shadows biting the corners of my vision.
Her deep blue eyes met my brown. Though we both shared tanned skin, hers was a shade darker, speaking of a woman who’d been outside riding horses, I noted enviously.
The weak candlelight flickered and I scanned her cheeks, unable to see if she still bore the scars from that Gods awful day.
Avoiding her eyes, I held her hands out, admiring how her satin emerald gown, with its full skirts and gilt embroidered bodice, seemed so out of place within the slate gloom of the Tower.
My cheeks warmed at the thought of the simple grey dress covering my own form. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘How very ironic.’
We froze. Romero’s bored tone broke through our tense reunion. Dropping my hand, Enfys moved to the side, head bowed.
I tilted my jaw as I met the cold glare of the man who’d brought me to this damned place.
A growl rumbled through Pablo, irate enough to shock me back into myself, and I tugged on his fur, a reminder to the wolf that Romero could easily kill him too. The king raised his dark brow, and I dropped into the expected curtsey, praying he’d miss my clenched fists.
‘My liege.’ I swallowed, waiting for the instruction to rise, praying this time Pablo would behave.
‘I’ve been waiting here for almost an hour, sweet Sorrow.’
My head remained bowed as he placed the cup back onto the saucer with a soft clatter, leaving me crouched. A huff forced its way out of my tight lips. I closed my eyes, despising this man and how my entire existence depended on pandering to him. The swish of rich fabric told me he’d stood.
‘Am I not King Romero? The most powerful, and therefore busy, regent on Shuteran soil? Have you been gone for so long, you’ve simply forgotten I have many pressing demands upon my time? Well?’
I took a moment to organise my thoughts, resisting the urge to throw the teapot at his head. ‘Apologies, my liege. I was… exploring the tunnels of the Tower. Had I known you intended to visit I’d have been here awaiting you.’
‘See, Father.’ Enfys’s voice chimed in, and I fought the urge to glance at her, forcing my head lower. ‘I knew Sorrow would never insult you.’
I frowned. Since when did Enfys stand up to her father on my behalf?