Page 63 of Devour
My stomach sinks. I don’t want to be alone with them. Not that I feel comfortable being alone with anyone here.
Before the door shuts behind them, Blythe turns back. “Yasmine, come along with us to aid in her first reading.”
One of the Drahkita on the end calmly follows them into the second room.
I stretch my neck, trying to see through the door before it clicks shut. “Where did they go?” I whisper.
“To the Ancient,” my Dread answers.
Am I supposed to know what that means?
A moment later, the redheaded priestess rejoins us. I frown, looking between her and the doorway. I wish I understood what was happening. What is the test? The priestess in a silver dress was called a seer, but what does that mean?
The golden priestess studies me.
I wring my hands together as I wait. I don’t like not understanding, not knowing what is happening or why.
“You chose a shy little mouse, Azkel,” Blythe says, eyeing my Dread.
He doesn’t respond.
“Moira said to be wary of her, but I see nothing more than a terrified, weak little thing.”
I swallow and look down at my feet. I do not like these women. Something feels so… off about them. The warriors also have this dark feeling to them, but I’d always assumed that was more to do with my own fear.
These women are different. There is something strange about their power. Perhaps they kill just as many as the warriors. Or more.
“Your Drahkita is accepted, Oriah,” the still-kneeling woman in silver says without opening her eyes. “You may leave.”
My eyes fly up to Blythe and then to the Dread on my left. He is leaving? Without her? What happens to her? She wasn’t rejected, so why does she not come back into this room?
My Dread’s hands begin to clench and unclench. Is he nervous? If so, about what? Does my performance mean something to his reputation?
The redheaded woman steps forward. “Your turn, mouse.”
I pause and look back at my Dread. He is the man who used violence to claim me and very well may do terrible things to me later, so I know I shouldn’t look to him for support and encouragement, and yet, he is currently all I have.
He nods once but keeps his eyes steady straight ahead.
Maybe I misread his nervousness. Maybe he is only bored and wants this over with, because he clearly doesn’t care right now.
“Come, Drahkita. You must now receive your reading.”
I press my lips together tightly, trying to push past the voices screaming in my mind, bouncing off my skull, telling me this is wrong.I have no choice,I tell myself. I have to play along.
“You are shy,” the woman says, her hand outstretched. “That is very sweet.”
My brow pinches. Uncertainty swirls around in my body. But finally, I take her hand. I flinch the second our skin touches.
“Tabitha, you come along to aid in her first reading.”
Another of the Drahkitas behind me shuffles forward to follow us.
My feet slide against the stone as I approach the unknown. I duck my head as we pass through the doorway into the darkness beyond.
The ceiling is pitch black with tiny white lights scattered all around, as if it were the night sky itself. Everything else is dark enough I struggle to see where each step leads.
A soft red glow grows as we walk farther into the room. Darkness pulses around us. It…breathes.
