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She summoned the nerve to speak. “Where are we going, Uncle?”
He looked at her through hooded eyes, shadows from the firelight dancing across his handsome face. “Back to the striga who made you.”
Arabella arched back, icy fear coursing through her veins. “No, not her.”
“She put this curse upon you.” He waved at her with a scowl, making it obvious her very presence repulsed him. “I will make her remove it, or I will bite off her head.”
Arabella froze when the crone inside her laughed, a dark demonic rumble.
Why do you laugh? she asked through thought, but the crone went silent. Arabella suspected she knew the answer. That her uncle wouldn’t be able to control the striga. No, the witch would control them, and their miserable lives were about to become far worse.
Part Two
Spiders, Spirits, and Demon Secrets
Chapter Fourteen
Flora
Igritted my teeth while reluctantly following my mates into Malvolia’s personal living quarters. Though I’d begged Marius and Derrick to ignore my sister’s summons, they’d refused. So now here we were, at her beck and call, just like all of Malvolia’s other dogs.
One of her current lovers greeted us at the door, then directed us to her garden through the double doors leading to the patio. It had been ages since I’d visited my sister here. It felt as if I’d stepped into a time capsule while I admired the tall bushes with bloodred roses that walled the garden. I exchanged wary looks with Derrick and Marius as we followed Malvolia’s young lover across the cobblestone steps, through a garden of thorny plants, some most definitely poisonous, toward the other end with the iron lattice dining table with four matching chairs. Flickering torches and softly glowing candles illuminated the table set with all kinds of fragrant dishes and pastries, plus wine and cheeses.
Was Malvolia expecting us to dine with her, and if so, did this mean she wasn’t holding court this evening?
Malvolia appeared on the patio, dressed in all black with a shiny black crown of thorns upon her head, her dark hair twisting around the thorns in braids that resembled vines. The red on her cheeks was a stark contrast to her white face paints and black lipstick. She looked like a morbid clown. Her cape billowed behind her as she walked toward us, her hard glare softening as she approached me.
I held tightly to my mates’ hands, stiffening beneath the weight of her stare.
“Derrick,” she said to my mates, “Marius...” She paused visibly swallowing while she looked at me again. “Flora.” My name came out on a rasp, as if the word itself was made of poison.
I refused to be swayed by the quiver of her lower lip. “Why have you summoned us?” I asked, impatience ringing in my words.
The longing in her eyes was replaced with a hard glint of steel. “You’ve enjoyed your extended little honeymoon.” There was no mistaking the disgust and jealousy in her tone. “Now it’s time to get to work.”
“What about Elisi?” I pressed. Had she expected me to forget about the estate she’d stolen from my mates?
Her upper lip twitched then curled back in a sneer. “It is in the process of being vacated, but the lord occupying it has asked for extra time while his new estate is being readied.”
“Fine,” I said haughtily while turning up my chin. I hated her so much. I wouldn’t mourn her if she threw herself off a tower, though I would lament having to fill her shoes as the next in line to the throne. All I wanted was to get far away from my twin and never have to see her again.
Malvolia motioned toward the table and chairs. “May we get to business now?”
When she gave her lover an expectant look, he quickly pulled out her chair, then pushed it in when she sat down. I wondered what had happened to her other lovers. I had heard rumors she’d had five at one point. Where were the other four? No matter. I cared not for the mages who were desperate and depraved enough to sleep with her.
Three uniformed servants stepped forward, pulling out my chair at the other end of the table and chairs for my mates between us. My mates sat in the low-backed chairs, their wings draped behind them.
“What is it?” I didn’t bother to hide the impatience in my voice as I glared at my sister from across the table. I had to straighten my spine just to see her over the ridiculous flowery centerpiece that jutted from the table like overgrown weeds. The centerpiece surrounded a fat candle, and I was surprised the table hadn’t caught fire, though I surmised it was only a matter of time. Hopefully, we’d be long gone by then.
Malvolia didn’t acknowledge her lover as he adjusted an embroidered napkin in her lap. “We have word from Peloponese.”
Derrick and Marius stiffened, and the color drained from Marius’s face. Were they expecting bad news?
I thanked a servant for pouring me a goblet of wine, then took a slow sip. “What is it?”
“As you know, after our encounter with Fachnan’s army, most of his dragons have dispersed.” A slow smile spread across her lips. “And you also know that Fachnan was butchered by his wife’s bastards.”
Malvolia knew they were my daughter’s mates. Had she meant to offend me? I slammed my goblet on the table, wine sloshing over the sides, inwardly smiling when my sister flinched. “They aren’t bastards. Their fathers claimed them.” I leaned forward, folding my hands in front of me while resisting the urge to grab the long fork stuck in the ham shank and jab it in Malvolia’s eye. “Do not forget they are Tarianya’s mates.”
