Chapter 16
Fever
THE REQUIEM | Present
Humiliation has a smell.
I realize that as I kneel on the floor, my fingers trembling as I wipe crimson wine from a monster’s shoes.
It smells of leather. Like old money.
Like men who think power makes them gods.
And women who teach daughters that survival tastes better when swallowed with obedience.
My knees sting.
Tiny shards of crystal are buried in my skin, biting deeper every time I shift. Blood stains the blue silk pooled around my legs.
Mine.
The irony almost makes me laugh.
A princess dressed like a dream… bleeding at the feet of wolves.
My Mother resumes her conversation as if I’m furniture. As if I’m not on my knees. As if she didn’t just hand my dignity over on a silver fucking platter.
I keep my head bowed.
Because prey survives by pretending it doesn’t have teeth. But inside… inside something ugly is clawing at my ribs. Something primeval.
Something furious.
Something that sounds suspiciously like him.
If you’re going to kneel, Dolcezza… make sure someone is bleeding for it.
My fingers freeze. My breath catches. My heart stumbles. No.
No… Why can I hear him?
Why now?
Why here?
“Enough.”
My Mother’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I look up at her smiling face. God… I hate that smile. It’s the kind Mothers wear in old paintings. I don’t recognize her anymore.
“Come here, darling.”
My body moves before my mind agrees.
Because trauma teaches obedience faster than love ever could. I stand slowly as my legs shake and blood trickles down my shin. Nobody cares. Nobody even looks. Except Aris.
Her red lips curve as she rakes me over like she’s pricing cattle.
“Now,” my Mother says sweetly, lifting a crystal glass. “Mr. Davenport has graciously accepted your apology.”
Vane grins. Bile rises in my throat. He lifts his amber glass toward me. “Drink with me, sweetheart.”
My fingers curl. Every nerve in my body screams no.
Run.
Fight.
Bite.
Kill.
But eight pairs of eyes are watching. And I understand. This isn’t dinner or a punishment. This is a fucking experiment. And I’m the lab rat. I force my lips into something resembling a smile.
“Of course.”
I take the glass.
I almost drop it as I bring it to my lips. And drink. And all I taste is fire. Liquid fire sliding down my throat.
Burning.
Scorching.
The room erupts in low laughter as Vane’s arm snakes around my waist. My body goes rigid. I stop breathing, and my fingers go numb. The glass slips, and I barely catch it.
The candlelight stretches and melts as voices warp. My pulse pounds so hard I can hear it.
My vision hazes, and all I can see are spots of red. A pair of eyes.
And sound.
Running.
Screaming.
Be good, Selene.
White walls.
Straps.
My wrists.
Blood.
So much blood.
A man screaming. A familiar voice. “RUN!”
All I can smell is jasmine and blood. Smoke.
Warm hands. Terrifyingly gentle. Dark eyes.
And my nightmare.
Zagreus.
Look at me. Fucking look at me!
The glass shatters and a scream tears out of me. It’s so raw and animalistic I hardly recognize it.
“NO—!”
I stumble backward.
Hands clutching my head. My skull feels like it’s splitting open. Like someone buried knives in my memories and twisted.
“Don’t touch me!”
Someone reaches for me, but I shove him. Hard enough that his chair crashes backward. The room explodes. Everyone stands. Chairs scraping. Voices rising. But I hear none of it.
Because all I hear is screaming.
My screaming. Years of it.
My knees hit marble as my nails dig into my scalp. My breathing comes in fractured gasps.
“Make it stop…” My voice breaks. “Please… please make it stop—”
“I knew something was wrong.”
My blood freezes as I tilt my head at the voice. And through my blurred vision, all I can see is Aris’s red lips pulled into a smirk.
She tilts her head. Looks at my Mother. And smiles wider.
“You’ve stopped taking the medicine, haven’t you?” Aris said.
I tremble, and everything in me screams only one word. Run.
Run.
RUN—
But I can’t move.
Because my Mother kneels in front of me, cups my face… and smiles.
Her thumb wipes away my tears.
“You disappoint me.” I stare at her.
And for the first time in my life… I don’t see my Mother.
I see my jailer. My drug dealer. My liar. My monster.