That’s what the patriarchs want to discuss.
What gives you the right to dictate my fate?I want to demand, my instinct to voice the question an overwhelming urge that almost makes my mouth move.
For over two decades of life, I’ve done everything these men have told me to do. I’ve obeyed them. I’ve bowed to them. Imatedfor them.
And for what? To have them continue to control every aspect of my life? To demand that Idiebecause Klas failed them?
Issy’s been telling me for years to stand up to the patriarchs, to not let them use her as a reason for my obedience.
I haven’t listened because she mattered more than everything else in the world. She was my only connection in life. My only reason for surviving.
But that’s all changed now.
I have a renewed purpose, one that I can feel anchoring me in another plane of existence.
My mates.
Their importance doesn’t replace Issy’s or belittle my connection to my twin. Their presence somehowstrengthensmy bond to my sister. Maybe because my mates are giving me even more reason to survive.
They’ll help me save her. It’s not something we’ve discussed. But somehow I know I can rely on them.They’ll give us a new home. A place to be free.
Knowing that sparks confidence in me now.
Which is why I lift my head away from the death stone to stare down the hooded men around me.
You want to discuss my fate? All right. We can discuss my fate.
They can’t hear me, but it doesn’t matter. I show them my feelings with my eyes, tell them with a look that I no longer wish to obey.
I’m done.
Weare done.
“Perhaps we need to begin this sentencing with an update on your twin sister,” Patriarch O’Neely says, a hint of menace underlying his regal tone. “I’m sure you’ve noticed your inability to communicate with her. Maybe it reminds you of a previous experience?”
My jaw ticks, my eyes narrowing.The obedience spell.It cut me off from Issy, making me focus entirely on Klas and his wishes.
Issy?I whisper to her, realizing it’s been too long since I last sensed her in my head.
Not since they used her to interrogate me after the last time I left the death plane.
Oh, Issy, what have they been doing to you?
I swear I see one of the patriarchs grin. Or maybe I just feel it more than see it because their hoods are shrouded in shadows. I can’t even identify who is who.
And when one of them speaks, the words echo around me.
I only recognize the voice’s owner, not the hood it originates from.
“Your sister has been newly mated,” Patriarch O’Neely continues. “Unfortunately, her powers made it difficult for us to perform a proper ceremony, so improvisations had to be made. And, well, she’s rather indisposed at the moment.”
A few chuckles follow his words while my heart ices over.
Mated? Indisposed?
Fuck.
Issy!