Page 84 of The Coven of Ruin
Trista sniffed inaudibly before she brought it to her lips. It was the best water she had ever tasted, and it took her great control not to gulp it down.
“Drink,” it encouraged. “It pleases me.”
If she wasn’t so thirsty, she might curse or throw the goblet at the silhouette, but as it were, her throat ached with longing. She took another sip and then another until the goblet was drained, only to be refilled.
“Good,” it purred, blinking at her with feline-like eyes. It watched her silently for a long moment, and she took another gulp of water, mostly to have something to do. But as she retracted the cup from her lips, it disappeared.
“Stand up,” it commanded.
“What are you?” she countered, her voice only a little less raspy.
“How could I be so impolite? A simple answer for now. What am I? I’m a god, but not as you know a god to be. As for my name, you may call me Thel.”
She tasted the name silently on her tongue but didn’t recognize it.
“Go on.”
She hesitated only a moment, but as his eyes narrowed on her, she managed to breathe out, “Thel.”
“Now stand up,” he demanded again.
Bracing herself against the chair, she struggled to rise to her feet. She managed to stand for several seconds before the room tilted sideways.
An animalistic growl emitted from the shadow as he caught her and lowered her into the seat. His touch was even colder than she remembered, and his fingers lingered on her arms, causing her flesh to pebble before he stepped away again.
“I specifically ordered that you be left unharmed.”
“Why?” she groaned, her eyes scrunched shut to slow the room’s spin.
“Why, indeed. You are of great interest to me, but so is your companion. Tell me about him.”
When she didn’t speak, she felt a ghost of a cold touch inside of her mind. Her eyes snapped open, refocusing on him. “You can either tell me yourself, or I’ll have to rifle through your mind, and I can’t promise that will be a pleasurable experience for you.”
“Who?” she asked, buying time.
“You know whom I speak of. You’re thinking of him even now.”
The caress on her mind changed into skittering shadows as Ares arose in her thoughts. No matter how much she tried to dispel him, he stayed. Ares drenched in blood at The Arena. His thumb brushing over her lip, fighting in the tournament, inspecting her injuries, and demanding the name of the mage who caused her harm. It was always him.
Was he alive, then? Did he make it out?
“Tell me who he is,” Thel demanded, an icy jolt battering through her in warning.
A scream ripped its way out of her. Her magic dashed through her, trying to protect her from the threat, but it was useless as he struck again. Blood dripped from her nose and landed on her lap in steady drops. And then, just as suddenly as he invaded, he was gone. His presence was absent, but the glacial pain remained.
“You are frail—I’d break you before I got everything I wanted.” Thel stepped closer to her, framing her with a hand on either side of her chair, bringing his face level with hers. Deep and ancient, his eyes held entire voids and cosmos within them. But when he spoke, it wasn’t to her, but to someone outside of the room. “Bring her in,” he ordered.
He stood to his full height, his unsettling gaze never leaving her.
When the doors opened, and a muffled protest reached her ears, she knew who it was before they threw her down in front of her.
Zyana.
Chapter XXXVI
Theyhadtiedastrip of cloth between her bleeding lips. One eye sported purple bruising and was swollen shut, and her nose was off center as if it healed wrong. The entirety of her appearance denoted that she had fought fiercely at any given opportunity.
Zyana struggled to her knees from where they threw her before Trista, but her arms were bound behind her back, making her off-balance.
