Maaz’s breath hitches in her throat with a happy sob. She remains on her knees, bowing to him as he approaches. Sadal’s shining black boots are splattered in blood as he strides through the Blood Well. He steps on the novice’s body carelessly. I peer up at him, taking in the pale ivory skin, the thick black hair and handsome features.
“Get up, darling Maaz,” he murmurs, helping her to her feet.
“Master,” Maaz whispers. She lifts her head to meet his gaze.
I feel the impact of his palm against her cheek as if Sadal hit me himself. The sound echoes through the Holy Rite. I stand stiffly beside Maaz as she cups her cheek in shock. Sadal paces in front of us. “Did you think you could summon me here and all would be forgotten?” He asks. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed your constant failures?”
“Dark One,” Maaz says, trying not to stammer. “I know I have failed you. I will offer myself to you now for forgiveness. Kill me.”
I curl my lip at her pathetic begging. Sadal turns slowly towards her, calculated and cunning. His black eyes rove over Maaz, a disgusted sneer on his lips. I watch carefully, silently, knowing my hood hides my face from his view. It’s a small comfort, the anonymity the hood provides in front of the Dark God. He and I are more alike than I prefer, we both find groveling distasteful.
“Enough,” he snaps. “Enough of your groveling. We have work to do.”
Chapter 4
Altair
The sun has set over the sea, and the castle is lit with lamps and torches. The light glitters over the patio where Verity and I are eating dinner. From the patio, Verity can gaze over the wall towards the city and harbor, sparkling in the night. The silence is heavy between us, and I know Verity’s mind is preoccupied with questions about her past and future. She’s looking for answers that I can’t give her, and it kills me.
Bird song floats through the night air, accompanied by the chirping of crickets. The only other sound is the clatter of silverware against porcelain. I watch as Verity slips a piece of steak between her lips. Her eyes are locked onto the glowing horizon and the sails that mar it.
“Where are the ships from?” She asks, breaking the silence between us.
“Berenices, Mensa, and Canes,” I say. “Those are merchant ships.”
“What did they bring?” Verity turns back to her meal.
I cluck my tongue, trying to remember the contents of the meeting I was in only yesterday. “Spices from Berenices, wine from Mensa, and wheat from Canes,” I say thoughtfully. “They’re the first merchants to return to Desmarais since the curse was lifted.”
Verity takes a sip of her wine and runs a hand over the necklace at her throat. “I’m glad.”
I swallow hard, nodding in agreement. Verity’s eyes are glazed over, as if she hardly listened to my explanation. I inhale sharply. I can’t really blame her, but I know that two weeks ago, Verity would have smiled broadly at the news that Alnembra was returning to the world. This strange creature across from me is only an echo of Verity. “Do you think you’re ready?” I ask, eyeing her.
“For what?” She raises her brows.
I purse my lips, suddenly nervous. “To fulfill the covenant you made with me. To marry me.”
She blanches, biting her bottom lip. I stare, thinking of the few times we shared passion between us. Passion that I’ve been craving. Verity doesn’t answer, instead downing her full goblet of wine. Irritation sparks in my chest as she dodges the question so obviously. I had such high hopes, hopes that I’ve been clinging to for weeks now.
“Why did you return?” I ask suddenly, my words cutting through the air between us.
She looks up, startled, and then drops my gaze. “I wanted to help.”
“And now have you changed your mind?” I press, eyes flashing.
“No,” she mumbles. “Why do you ask?”
“When you came here against your will, you were wild and fiery and stubborn. All I see before me now is a mute doll,” I snap. “I thought things between us were different, that we could at least be friends, if not more. But since the curse has broken, it seems that something inside you broke as well.”
She narrows her blue eyes and I feel a sense of satisfaction that I at least inspired her to feel something beyond apathy. “You have no idea how I feel, and you haven’t even bothered to ask,” she says, a vicious hiss to her words.
I close my eyes, thinking of the moments I spent at Verity’s side, waiting for her to confide in me. She’s right. I did little to reassure her. I’ve been so preoccupied with treating her like a fragile doll, that I didn’t let her speak. When I open my eyes again, the anger has ebbed.
“Tell me how you feel,” I say gently. “I can’t stand to see you so sorrowful.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she mutters, picking at her food.
“Verity, I can at least try,” I say forcefully as I shove my food aside.
Verity purses her lips at the sudden movement. “When you invited me for dinner, I wasn’t expecting a fight.”
“Neither was I,” I laugh mirthlessly. I quiet, fingers tracing the bulge in the pocket of my tunic. “I invited you here for a romantic evening. I invited you here to give you this.”
I pull a small black box from my pocket and pass it across the table towards her. She takes it tentatively, her fingers closing around it as if it was poisonous. I watch her brows furrow as she opens the box. Inside, she finds a ring with a pearl setting. Verity lifts it and studies it in the candlelight. Her eyes widen slightly, as if she expected it but never quite accepted the possibility. I never expected a joyous cry from her, but I
