Page 111 of A Dose of Agony
This time, the roaring from the people in the dark city streets below fills the air around me, and I couldn’t mistake it for anything other than a cheer.
“Many of our people fully believe and trust in me as a ruler,” he tells me.
“They believe I’m your mate?”
“Yes,” he whispers. “They know who you truly are. Only a true mate would be presented to the city like this.”
I look down at the buzzing crowds. “But some will still question you?”
“Very few in the city. The rebels are on the outskirts. They will not be easily convinced.”
“So, what do we—”
He presses his hand to my cheek. “One step at a time, bright one.” My cheeks heat at the use of the nickname now that I can feel the passion and devotion behind the words.
I am his bright one. His chosen. The one who lights up his entire world. His entire reason for being.
Never, in my whole life, have I ever dared to hope for love like this.
But it’s all here, in one look. One pet name.
I am his, and I can only hope I can be worthy of such devotion.
“You are more than worthy.”
I bite the inside of my lip, but even my uncertainty flowing through our link doesn’t lessen his pride.
Jarron leads me into the mountain carved out of dark red stone, with veins of silver and gold that glow slightly. Now fully enveloped by the mountain, I stare up at the unevenly carved domed ceiling, with several winding and interconnected arches through the whole thing. It’s massive. An entirely hollow mountain.
A winged beast soars past, down, down, down into darkness below. I gasp but then lean forward to see where it goes. All I can see is darkness below the precipice we are currently standing on.
“This is the main portion of the palace,” he explains. “High Orizians fly through the openings, and a few mountain-dwelling Orizians crawl over the stone pathways. It’s not exactly made for humans.”
My eyes flare.
“No one will hurt you here,” he adds quickly. “But you could fall. Stay near me at every moment.”
Right, yeah, no big deal. I definitely have no intention of wandering off on my own.
He leads me up to a narrow stone passage that crosses over the massive void below. My knees tremble as I take tiny steps over the bridge that’s only two feet wide with no railings at all.
His arms wrap around me from behind, and he whispers, “I can carry you if you need. But you will appear stronger if you cross yourself. They are watching.” He nods ahead, where several sets of bright eyes peer out from the darkness beyond the platform head. “I swear, I will not let you fall.”
I take in a deep breath and muster every ounce of courage I contain.
Have I mentioned that I’m not exactly a fan of heights? Because I’m not.
But knowing that there are beings watching me, judging me—beings who already see me as weak and unworthy—well, let’s just say my stubborn will is stronger than my fear.
I keep my chin up as I walk slowly across the stone. There is no handrail. No border. Just two-feet-wide red stone that curves over the opening to the other side of the mountain.
Jarron’s wings flare wide, and he holds them open as he follows just behind me.
My heart races, my lungs near seizing when I finally reach the platform leading into dark tunnels. There are two black-haired witches standing just in the shadows, watching us with bright eyes. They are shorter than the average human, with grey winkled skin. They’d like to be called hags in the supernatural world, but I know better.
They are from one of the three clan that will make up the tribunal, Jarron tells me.
Jarron puffs out his chest and then continues past the witches, into pitch-black tunnels. I rush to keep up.
