AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My high priest does not appear to appreciate how generous I am being, giving him an easy way to earn my trust forever.
That's what most do not realize about our bodies.
It's in the blood.
It's in the blood.
Everything that matters is in the blood.
All of your thoughts, your fears, your intentions, your past, present, and future, every bit of you can be found in your blood.
It is why I am the luckiest of all my siblings.
My magic is life.
Not the facsimile of life my sister can provide with her skill of resurrection.
No.
That is not life. That is a perversion. There is no blood pumping in those veins.
"Are you ready, high priest?" I can barely contain my excitement. I have long wished to taste Zeph. I want to know what he hides, his secrets.
And now they are here, within mygrasp.
He gulps as if he has anything to be afraid of. I am sure he does not. I don't need the blood to tell me my priest is loyal. No, he has gone above and beyond to show me in his actions that he is dedicated. This is just insurance, a way to be certain before I entrust him with Viola.
Before I release her, I need to know that I am releasing her into the arms of someone who will guide her to her proper place by my side.
By my side.
By my side.
Zeph rises from his chair and moves to the front of his desk to sit in front of me and nods tightly. "I'm ready." He holds out his hand.
My blade is deadly sharp, and all it takes is a small amount of pressure to cut through the soft flesh of his palm. The blood beads up, and I swipe the flat of the blade through it. It calls to me, sings that siren song that beckons me to escape within its depths.
I lick the blade, my tongue exploding with the earthy, metallic taste that is uniquely Zeph Nightroot. Everyone's blood tastes different, and his sends me on a tailspin into the depths of his intentions.
Faces flash across my vision so quickly I can only recognize Viola. The Blood vision leads me through the depths of Zeph's desires, most of which center around Viola. Everywhere I turn, there she is. She's smiling. She's laughing. She's dirty and slumped in a cell. I see flashes of myself interspersedwith the images of Viola.
I push the vision further, seeking to know his goal, his true desire. The vision pushes back images of snowfall and frost, a forest clearing where a mist of blood red and brilliant blue swirls and gathers in the air, and shadows crawling out of trees, slithering across the ground like snakes. All of these moments of Winter magic float to the surface of his intentions, taking over his thoughts and guiding every step he makes.
And through it all, over all of the images, all of the magic, a voice whispers one word on refrain.
"Protect. Protect. Protect."
Chapter 7
Mace
"We need to slow down, this pace is unsustainable," Morrow snarls at me as he climbs off the back of a griffin.
"Absolutely not. We stay the course. We will get to Feria, get the artifact and journal, and then get Viola from Ytopie." I toss my bag to the ground and slump against a tree, rubbing my thighs to work out the stiffness from an entire day mounted on a massive creature.
"Unless the Shadowweaver doesn't wish to return to us," he says, for what must be the thirtieth time since we woke up and she was gone. "Come on, man, you are not stupid. It's been a week since she left. If she were going to come back, she'd be back by now." His negativity is starting to wear on all of us and I need it to stop if we are going to continue. But I cannot approach him aggressively on this matter.
Tulip shakes her head as she digs through her pack for something. "That's not fair, Morrow. Viola would never intentionally keep herself from us. You have to have faith."
