Page 265 of When Sisters Collide
Her stomach turned. “And the rest? The ones who don’t become demons?”
“When it gets too crowded, I call on Vanth to ferry some back to the Underworld.”
“Vanth?” The Rasennans at the arena had been so afraid of the goddess of death they wouldn’t even speak her name aloud.
Laran’s scowl was immediate. “Pray you never cross paths with her. She’s batshit crazy and has a nasty habit of sucking the marrow from men’s bones.”
Katell’s stomach twisted. Her gaze swept the barren plain of scorched rock and drifting mist, half-expecting the goddess to appear. She’d made a pact with Vanth back in Bruna’s arena, but had hoped never to cross paths with her.
Laran seized her wrist and hauled her upright in a single, effortless motion. “Come. Let us rest and bathe before the next round.”
Katell staggered, muscles burning in protest, and glanced at the desolate battlefield.
Where did he expect them to bathe?
He clicked his tongue as if she were the most tiresome creature he’d ever dealt with, tightening his grip.
The world blurred. Twisted.
And in the next breath, she found herself somewhere new.
Sunlight poured in from an open balcony, flooding the chamber with gold. Vivid frescoes adorned the walls; a grand mosaic sprawled across the floor, depicting warriors clashing, flames rising, and gods looming above it all. The air smelled of salt and daisies, carried in by a warm sea breeze. Beyond the balcony, the ocean stretched endlessly, a brilliant cerulean expanse almost too vivid to be real.
“Where are we?” Katell asked, taking in every detail.
Laran was already lounging in a carved wooden chair, angled slightly away from her, his muscled legs stretched out, one ankle resting on the other. A table beside him was piled with food—roasted meats, fresh bread, bowls of olives and figs, wine so dark it was nearly black. He plucked a grape from a golden dish, rolled it between his fingers, then popped it into his mouth.
“My home.” Chewing, he gestured to the empty seat beside him with a casual flick of his fingers. “Come, eat.”
Katell crossed her arms, still reeling from the strange sensation of being ripped from one world and thrust into another. “I’m not hungry.”
He forked several items onto a plate, including a tender cut of roasted boar glazed in thick, fragrant sauce. “Then go take a bath. You reek.”
But Katell stood her ground, exhaling a slow breath and fighting the urge to snap at him. “You said I needed to train. We trained. Now bring me back.”
She couldn’t waste time eating or bathing while the Emperor used her as a weapon, sending her to fight his battles. And the bright sunlight streaming in did little to ease the gnawing tension in her chest. How many days had passed since she’d been pulled from the mortal world?
For a moment, Laran said nothing. He simply took another bite of food, his dark eyes fixed on her. “Not yet. Soon, you’ll be ready to return to the battlefield and fight in the upcoming war.”
His words jolted her, and she crossed to the table, her muscles protesting with each step. “Wait… do you think I’ll be returning to the legions?”
“Won’t you?” Laran gave her his full attention. “Then what will you do, daughter?”
She didn’t hesitate. “I’m going to kill the Emperor.”
His lips quirked upwards, a half-smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, as if her answer amused him in some private way. “Interesting.”
She tensed at his lack of reaction. “Are you going to stop me?”
He weighed the question before answering, his voice edged with finality. “No. Whatever happens to Tarquinius, it has been a long time coming.”
Relief flooded her. If he had opposed her, what could she have done? She couldn’t fight the god of war. The very thought was madness.
“Then please take me back to the mirror,” she pressed, struggling to keep desperation from her voice. “I need to know what’s happening.”
Laran reached for his goblet, swirling the dark wine without sparing her a glance. “Not until you’re ready.”
Her patience frayed. “And when will that be?”
