Page 35 of The Legacy of Ophelia
“Where are we going?” I asked as we left my suite.
“You shall soon see.”
I followed, the fog in my mind giving the marble halls a soft rippling effect around the edges.
“I have heard of the progress of your training,” he said. Was it a trick of the light or did the misty ether swirling around him lift in anticipation?
Angellight coiled within me. “It’s becoming quite useful,” I said, the light drifting ahead of us to prop open the next door.
“That is why I have come to you tonight.”
As we came to a stop before a set of high doors in the ballroom, I brushed a thumb across my Curse mark. Echnid’s curling smirk seemed so knowing as he placed a hand against the rich wood. It was typically used for Daminius festivities and other formal gatherings, but today, Echnid shoved the door open, and instead of a beaming, jewel-encrusted crowd and billowing gold decor, it revealed Malakai.
On his knees in the center of the room.
Chained to the floor.
My light flared uncontrollably, and I yelled, “What’s going on?”
There is a reason for it. Echnid has a reason.That misty voice curled fingers around my mind, compressing my fear into something small and unimportant.
But I rushed to Malakai. “Are you okay?” I gripped his shoulders, looking him over. There wasn’t a mark on him besides dark shadows beneath his eyes from lack of sleep.
“I’m fine, Phel.” His words were solid, his will still iron despite the shackles around his wrists.
I whirled on Echnid, taking in the room. The Angels were present as well as a group of women I didn’t know, but I only looked at the god, barreling toward him.
“What are youthinking?” I beseeched. Light pooled in my hands, silver and lilac sparks showering us. “Malakai is an esteemed Mystique Warrior! He is one of the people we are going to uplift.”
“The Blastwood and Deneski lines are strong among your people,” Echnid agreed, studying me as my light continued to crackle. “That is exactly why we have brought Malakai here.”
“What do you mean?” My eyes flicked over the room, landing on Damien. He was stony-faced, his expression etched in marble, but I swore a flash of…pride lit his purple eyes.
No, that couldn’t be it. Not for my defiance.
I tore my stare from his, searching for any sort of explanation as the fog tried to push my worries down again. Tried to harden me against this atrocity.
A group of women lined settees at the side of the room. All seven were unnaturally beautiful, with skin that shone like glass in a range of different tones and crisp white dresses that floated like water.
“You have noticed my attendees?” Echnid smiled proudly.
“Who are they?” I snapped, looking between the god and these…mistresses. One rose from her settee and draped herself across Echnid’s lap, licking up the column of his throat.
Echnid was a god. He brimmed with power and had the defined body and ethereal beauty to prove it; he was probablyskilled at pleasuring partners. But the sight made my stomach turn.
“Rather beautiful are they not? And deadly.” The non-answer slithered from his lips.
“They’re here to fuck you, then?”
Echnid and the sevenbeingslaughed, but the god said, his hand high on the thigh of the white-haired woman on his lap, “Among other things.”
A low, rumbling growl echoed from one of the corridors leading off the ballroom. I spun toward the door in time to see?—
“Holy fucking Angels,” I breathed.
All seven of them rifled their feathers as if insulted by my choice of words, but I truly could not give less of an Angel’s wing. Not on a good day given their true nature, and especially not when a massive, three-headed dog was lumbering through the door.
Drool dripped from the tips of its fanged teeth as all three of those sets of eyes scanned the room. Its frame was as large as the khrysaor’s, muscled and strong, with short brown fur tight to its body and a skinny tail that whipped as it assessed us.
