Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
“Where is Anya?” I ask.
“She’s at our winter estate, along with your other ladies. I have them preparing your room so it will be comfortable for you when you arrive.”
“All of them?” I thought the others were safe but he’s not just threatening Anya, he’s going to hurt the others as well.
He nods. “You are to be my wife before you arrive there. You must have a room that is worthy of your elevated status.”
“We’re getting married?” I look around as if expecting a priest to materialize. “I thought we had to wait.”
“We’ll wed after you recover from your gifting ceremony. The gods want us together as soon as possible,” he says.
Brevan’s goodbye makes more sense now. It wasn’t about the power Caiden might wield over me after this ceremony. It was the fact that I would be his wife.
“As your wife, I will keep all my ladies, correct?”
“Of course,” he assures me.
“And they will be under my charge. So only I can make requests of them. They can’t be dismissed or harmed without my consent.”
“As it should be,” he says. “With your new role, you’ll have new privileges. Including full command over your ladies and your staff.”
“You and your legionnaires will protect them, always. Even if anything ever happens to me. They will be cared for?”
His brow furrows. “Where is this coming from?”
His tone is genuine, and I mask my relief.
He doesn’t know about Brevan. This is about control and power.
Not punishment. “I was nearly killed just last night. If something were to happen to me, I don’t want my ladies destitute.
I want to know they’d be cared for. Treated with kindness and respect. ”
He closes the distance between us, his expression softening. “That must have been terrifying for you.”
“It was.”
He pulls me into his embrace, and I tense instantly, then force myself to relax.
I slide my arms around his waist, returning the hug while my stomach churns and I fight against rising nausea.
I will never get used to this man touching me.
Once I find Anya, I am going to have to kill him.
I’m not even sure I’ll wait until after the emperor is dead.
When he releases me, he gazes on me with what I can only guess is affection. Though, that look doesn’t seem natural on him. There’s a strange quality to it. Maybe it’s because it’s the same look you’d give a child. Or a pet. Which is probably how he sees me.
“Now, we should get this done so you can rest for a few hours before you go to the temple.” He gestures to the floor where two large cushions have been set in front of the altar. The benches that were there previously are gone.
I sit, and instead of fear, there’s rage bubbling in my chest. I refuse to allow this to control me.
Brevan still has free will. If this just curbs any magic I might get, so be it.
I don’t need magic. Of course, there’s the possibility that I’ll die in the temple and then this whole thing is worthless.
That thought sends a spike of panic through me, and I reach out and touch his arm. “What if I die in the temple tomorrow?”
“You won’t. I know we’re destined to fulfill the prophecy.”
“If I do, you’ll take care of my ladies?” I clarify.
“Stop worrying about them. They’re alright.”
“I’ll feel better if I know you’ll protect them,” I say, hoping to appeal to his ego. “They need good, kind husbands who won’t harm them, or they need to be cared for by”—I fake being choked up—“whoever you marry if I…” I turn away as if the thought is too much.
“It’s not going to happen.” He smooths my hair. “But if it calms you, I will promise to ensure their happiness and safety.”
I look back up at him through tears. It’s the first time I’ve ever faked them. I feel manipulative and evil. But I know what he’s capable of, and after the situation with the earl, I can’t take any chances. “Thank you.” I squeeze his hand and he smiles.
“Now, sit comfortably, and rest your arms on your knees, palms up,” he instructs.
I follow his orders while cursing him in my mind. He will not break me. He doesn’t own me. I am not his. And I will still destroy him.
I will not perish in the temple. I will save my friend, and then I will make sure he gets everything he deserves.
Caiden is chanting something, but I can’t make out the words.
Instead, I’m repeating my own words in my head, over and over.
I send them to any gods who will listen.
To any gods who are willing to help us have choices.
To rise beyond our lot in life, to give everyone a chance. To make things better.
But I also ask for revenge.
I swear to you, if you give me the strength to live through this, I will not give up. I will not run away. I will end their reign. I will bring Pendralia to its knees.
It’s time for this empire to fall.
I feel Caiden take my hand, but I’m not present in this moment with him. I’m elsewhere in my own mind. I’m pure rage. Seething and hot and red and powerful.
When the bite of a blade slicing my flesh stings, I lean into the pain, channeling it into my anger. I wince as something sharp digs into the wound, refusing to cry out.
“Almost done,” Caiden says.
I open my eyes, and Caiden is holding my forearm. Blood drips from the slice he cut into my skin. I can see the outline of a small object there, but I don’t feel any pain.
Caiden sets my arm down, then cuts his own arm, then slides in a tiny piece of gold under his skin.
He grunts and grits his teeth. Sweat beads on his forehead.
Once it’s in, he blows out a breath. “We have two pieces of the same relic connecting us now. We’ll be forever bound in our magic and soon we’ll be bound in marriage.
” He presses his palm against his wound, then leans forward.
There’s an eager glint in his eyes. “As soon as you gain your power and we fulfill the prophecy, nobody will be able to stop us.”
I glare at him defiantly. I have no intention of fulfilling any prophecy with him and I certainly don’t plan to wed him. He doesn’t seem to care that I’m not playing along.
“Last step.” He stands and removes one of the burning candles from the altar and sets it on the floor between us. He picks up an iron bar from nearby and begins to warm it in the flame.
“This is when you choose the god you’ll call on in the temple,” he says. “It should be Rey, the king of the gods. He’s the one who will fulfill the prophecy.” The flames lick the iron bar. “When you’re ready, close your eyes.”
I close my eyes, but I don’t invoke Rey.
I have no use for kings. Instead, I call to all of them.
Any god who will hear me. As the hot iron presses into my skin, I grit my teeth through the pain and I call to Mara.
She’s the one goddess we all encounter. She’s an equalizer.
A healer and destroyer. The problem and the solution.
I let out a cry of pain as the heat singes my arm, then it’s over. I open my eyes and look at the throbbing burn that sealed the cut. It’s angry and red but at least I’m no longer bleeding.
Caiden grunts through his own burn, but I turn my attention away from him and stare at the mural. And I swear I see a raven fly through the paint, then vanish.
Two priestesses in white robes arrive to dress me for the temple. I’m not allowed to see anyone else until after the ceremony. They bathe me, then dress me in a white robe that looks like theirs.
“Is this how men dress for their ceremony?” I run my hands over the thin fabric. I’m going to freeze outside.
They shake their heads.
“Of course not.” I let out an annoyed sigh.
They offer sympathetic expressions. One of them holds up my hairbrush.
“You want to do it for me?” I ask.
She inclines her head, then gestures to the stool in front of the vanity. “Alright. Thank you.”
Her touch is soothing as she gently works out all the tangles. When she’s finished, the other woman takes her place and begins to braid my hair. I wonder if they don’t speak by choice or if it’s required of their order. Or perhaps it’s more sinister and they can’t.
I’m not sure I want to know.
When they’re finished, they bow to me, and I return the gesture, which seems to surprise them. “Thank you for caring for me,” I say.
They smile, but I don’t miss the sadness behind it.
“Are you worried for me?” I ask.
They both nod once.
“I am, too,” I confess.
The older of the two points to her heart, then presses her hand flat against her chest. Then she does the same to me. I don’t recognize the gesture, but I smile and nod, and she returns my expression with a smile of her own.
They walk me through the halls to the large front doors. All the legionnaires we pass are careful not to stare at me. There is nobody else around. I suspect they were kept away from my path to keep me isolated.
I’m led to a carriage, and the priestesses join me, maintaining their silence. Once we begin, they close the shades. The younger one passes me two coins.
They feel heavy in my palms. I stare at the silver coins a long while before I slip them into the pocket of my robes. Then I look back at her. “I won’t be needing them but thank you.”
She smirks at that. It’s a mischievous look that gives me some hope. I think she believes me. Maybe they give everyone who enters the temple for this ceremony a pair of coins in case they need to pay the ferryman.
I will not be dying today.
The carriage slows to a stop after a long, bumpy ride. I peer through the curtains. We’re at the top of what we call the Gods’ Mountain, though it’s really just a rocky hill overlooking the city.
In the distance, about a mile’s walk from where we stopped, are the towering white marble pillars of the temple.
There are many temples throughout Pendralia, but each of them is designated to a specific god.
This temple is different. It’s meant to honor all the gods.
As far as I know, the only thing it’s used for is the gifting ceremony.
The priestesses make the gesture for the gods, then bow their heads. This is where we part ways. I return the gesture. “Thank you.”
I have to be the one to open the door. Caiden told me the rules last night. I open the door; I walk the rest of the distance alone. I enter the temple. It must be done of my own free will.
I glare at the angry red welt on my arm. There was nothing free about that, and even this is under duress considering they’re holding my best friend hostage.
But as I step out of the carriage and begin my trek to the temple, I realize that during the binding ceremony last night, I didn’t ask to get out of this.
I asked to survive so I could change things.
So I could make them pay. So I could prevent anyone else from the suffering that they’ve put me and mine through.
There’s a lightness in my steps as I charge toward the temple. I’m not afraid. And I will face the gods with my chin held high.