Page 11 of Queen of Whispers and Mist

EREBOS

There was an art to compulsion. A technique to implanting suggestions and thoughts in another person’s psyche, making the unsuspecting mortal not only embrace them but believe the ideas are their own. The unsophisticated referred to it as brainwashing, but there was so much more to it. It wasn’t a simple wipe and replace. There was precision involved in the real thing. Subtlety. Nuance. Who could possibly understand the artistry involved in getting someone to not simply do or say the opposite of what was fundamentally part of who they were, but to make them fully embrace the foreign ideals so completely itoverwrotethose foundational layers?

For one such as him, a master of the craft, it was a straightforward affair. Or it was supposed to be. Against other celestials, such as Luna, it was far trickier to make use of his gift.

And then there were those rare cases where a mortal’s will was so strong, they were immune to his suggestions. In those instances, the thoughts would dissolve as easily as candy floss in water. It was such a rare occurrence, in fact, he’d only come across it once—when dealing with the woman standing before him now.

Despite his best efforts with Reyna, there’d been no way to make his compulsion stick except to start with a clean slate. Even then, after hollowing out her mind like a ripe melon, every few months those instincts so innatelyherwould rear their head. The defiance. The doubt. The independent streak that made her a perfect queen and terrible prisoner.

It happened frequentlyin the early days, but the more he siphoned her power, the less often he’d had to intervene, until he’d go months without needing to drain her or reinforce his lies.

At least, it had been until recently.

He did not suffer any illusions about the reason for the sudden change. Everything had gone tits up with Ronan’s reappearance. It was like the Shield had reawakened some long dormant part of the Forsaken queen. Erebos hadn’t had to play around in her mind this much since he’d first captured her. Now it was practically a daily ritual.

The only way he would get her to obey his newest order without question was to drain her nearly dry. He hated to do it—well, not really, the high was incredible—but itwasinconvenient given the task he had in store for her. While siphoning her power was necessary to strengthen his influence over her, it would also leave her severely weakened. Even weak, she was still a formidable foe. He could only hope the element of surprise would be on her side.

So it was a risk, but a calculated one. Because if she succeeded, they’d both be rid of the redheaded bastard for good.

As if she could sense what he had in store for her, Shadow tugged against his brutal hold. “My lord, I promise, I didn’t know—”

“Hush.”

“If you would just allow me to explain—”

“Silence!”

She inhaled sharply but pressed her lips together as he continued towing her behind him through the palace and up to her private suite.

Pausing only long enough to shove open the door, he pushed her into the room and then kicked it, sealing them inside.

She spun around, wisely not keeping her back to him, and there was no hiding the anger burning in her gaze. That was all right. He appreciated her fire, and what he was about to do meant he could get away with being a little more honest than usual. She wouldn’t remember anything but her mission and devotion to her High Lord by the time he was through.

“I’d hoped our little chat earlier meant we wouldn’t need to do this again quite so soon, but, as you’ve just proven, you simply cannot be trusted.”

“Erebos, please, listen to me.”

He canted his head, his long hair sliding against his back as he did. “Why would I listen to you when every word out of your mouth is a lie? When did you turn into such a filthy liar, Shadow mine? And not only a liar, but a whore.”

“I-I’m not.”

“No? Then why agree to that man’s ridiculous request? Why give yourself to him willingly?”

“To shut him up. He was making a fool of you.”

“You made a fool of me,” he thundered.

“I... I’m sorry.”

The words were hard for her. For as often as she did it these days, apologies were not her forte, and it showed. They lacked the requisite remorse.

He tsked. “I blame myself. I’ve been too lenient with you. You clearly need a firmer hand. That’s my fault. I mistook your obedience for loyalty. But you were never tame, were you? You were simply biding your time.”

“No. Erebos—”

He backhanded her. “We are not equals. You do not address me by my name. I am your lord and master.”

“Of course, my lord.” She straightened, his handprint blazing on her cheek, her eyes defiantly meeting his.

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