I see my tent come into view. The tent I share with Sadal. My lips twist into a frown as I see the tent flap tied open. Since we arrived at the war camp, Sadal hasn’t slept in the tent, or even visited during the day. He comes and goes, flashes of shadow on the mountain. He’s there now. And he left the door open for me.
I duck inside, brows furrowed. The tent is huge, the size of a normal bedroom at least. On the right side, is a wooden stove with a chimney that feeds out of the tent roof. In the back, a bed covered in furs and pillows sits. And in the center, a large table that before this moment has been empty. Now, Sadal and Maaz circle it, staring down at faded maps.
My eyes dart between the two most powerful beings in this world. Maaz’s eyes meet mine first. She curls her lip at me with disdain. I remember the first moment I saw her, at a ball with Altair. I remember the way she sidled up to him, crooning. And I remember her cold gaze falling on me just as it does now. My hands clench into fists at my side as anger flashes through me. There’s a dark place in my heart that feeds off of my hatred towards Maaz. And I do hate her. I detest her more than anyone else in the world.
But the feeling is mutual, and I see her fingernails dig into the wood of the table. Sadal looks up at last, his dark eyes gleaming. He grins, a smile that stretches too wide over his handsome face. “Verity,” he purrs, reaching for me. “I was wondering where you had run off to.”
“Likely spying for her lover,” Maaz spits, straightening. She slips around the table, her slight figure draped in a silk shift so thin I can see the dark outlines of her nipples. “Isn’t that right, mortal?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “And how shall I send my information to him? Perhaps on the back of one of the demons.”
Sadal laughs. “I would gladly offer you a messenger bird, if that’s your wish.”
I clamp my lips shut, staring at him suspiciously. Since my capture, I’ve trodden carefully around Sadal when it comes to Altair. Every night, I dream that Sadal slips an ebony dagger into Altair’s heart right in front of me. I do what I can to keep Altair off of Sadal’s mind. So, I shrug and peer down at the maps on the table innocently.
“Ever seen a war room, love?” Sadal asks, trailing a finger over my arm.
I slip away, distancing myself. “I have now,” I quip.
On the maps, I can see black symbols showing the extent of Sadal’s forces. The black pieces encroach close on Alnembra’s borders, which are covered in golden pieces. Just outside Desmarais, I see a red pawn toppled. Altair.
My gut coils angrily as Sadal carelessly maneuvers his forces over the map as if he’s already won. Maaz tuts, dragging my attention away from Altair’s doom. “She shouldn’t be here,” she snaps.
“Why?” Sadal asks, barely glancing away from his plans. “She can’t get word to Altair. And even if she could, she would have nothing to say to him.”
My eyes narrow with confusion and I feel my heart clench. “Why not?” I ask. My nail digs into the wood, picking at a loose chip.
He glances up at me. “Because you’re mine now.”
“Not yet,” I snap. I still haven’t covenanted with him. I never will.
“You are,” he murmurs, turning back to the maps. “You have been since the night of your capture.”
My blood goes cold like ice in my veins and it feels as if my heart stops. “What?” I ask softly, feeling as if the breath has been knocked from my body.
Maaz’s head snaps towards him. “What?” She demands, breathing fast.
Sadal sighs and finally stands to his full height. He strides around the table towards me, cornering me before I can back away. Fear tingles down my spine as he leans over me. His dark eyes rove over my face, resting on my lips before slipping back to my eyes. He brushes a hand over my cheek, and I shudder.
“When we took you from Altair’s palace and brought you to the Bloodbane keep,” he whispers gently, “I carried you in my arms to the Holy Rite and carried out the ritual.”
“How?” I breathe, frozen. The arcane ritual requires carefully spoken promises, blood sacrifices, and more.
“You said exactly what you needed to, love.” He presses his lips against my ear. “The blood was mine.”
Maaz gasps, her shoulders tightening. I feel the ground beneath my feet slipping away but I hold tightly to the corner of the table as Sadal breathes me in. He finally straightens and smiles at me like a proud lover. With a final brush of his fingers against my cold skin, he moves away to a trunk in the corner.
I watch as he draws a red cloak from it. My eyes widen and I gape in horror as he draws the bloodred cloak around my shoulders. I shudder when I feel the weight of it on me. Maaz glares at me as Sadal ties the cloak in place and stands back to admire me.
“Beautiful,” he purrs.
I make a choking sound as horror rushes through me. I failed Altair. I failed him and how can I ever tell him? I can feel my heart trembling, beating off-rhythm as I panic. Sadal watches, smiling broadly while Maaz scowls. I stare down at my hands, to the empty finger where Altair’s ring once sat. The promise I made to Altair to bind myself to him is meaningless now. I’ve been bound to
