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Seconds later, Belladonna appears in a cloud of seductive perfume and white lace.
She stutters to a stop, seemingly picking up on the tense silence. Her gaze slides to mine. “Did I miss something?”
Still unable to speak, painstakingly trying to suppress the outrage clamoring to get out from inside of me, I shake my head. She studies my expression for a second too long but eventually seems to find answers to some of her questions.
She shrugs and sits. Gemini returns to his doodling while Wolfgang repeatedly taps his finger on the arm of his chair. Aleksandr arrives a few minutes later, looking worse for wear with heavy bags under his eyes. He takes the time to press a kiss on Constantine’s forehead before sitting down. Luckily,Wolfgang seems to pick up on the fact that I’m too rattled to hold a meeting and takes the lead.
I spend the next hour, locked in my head replaying Gemini’s last words.
37
WOLFGANG
Mercy and I return to our living quarters, an insufferable silence tailing us. The crackles and pops of the roaring fire inside the drawing room’s fireplace remind me that the world itself has not gone silent. I’m simply co-ruling with a brute who retreats into silence whenever a problem arises, and today the problem happens to be us.
Upon hearing our friends' theory, I was just as rattled as Mercy, but someone had to save face for the meeting. No legitimate leads about the rebellion yet. The lack of information tickled my suspicion, but my wariness didn’t make it very far, caught in a sticky web woven by Mercy herself, my minddensewith the thought of her.
Still, I made a mental note to have Dizzy add more men to the job. Gemini convinced us he would no doubt collect some valuable intel during Tithe Season, commencing in a few days.
Noticing that Mercy is trying to head towards her wing, I catch her arm with my hand. She stops mid-step, her shoulders jumping to her neck. Slowly, she swivels around, her eyes downcast to where my fingers connect with her wrist before lifting them to meet mine.
“What?” she says. Her voice isn’t as grave as the curves of her mouth; no, there’s a wistfulness to her tone that has me squeezing her wrist a little harder.
“This …thing… between us, Mercy,” I respond tentatively, “It needs to be discussed.”
She tries to shake her arm out of my grasp, but I don’t budge. “I’m tired, Wolfgang.”
“The sun has barely set,” I counter through clenched teeth. Her arm turns limp, her expression fading into something I can’t quite put my finger on. “I know you’d rather ignore it, but we can’t evade this forever. The gods won’t let us.”
Sensing she won’t run away now, I let her go, and she crosses her arms immediately.
“Do you really believe those two?” she says with a dry scoff. “Gemini thrives on chaos, and Constantine is just as enamored with mayhem as he is.”
“Agreed,” I say slowly, rubbing a hand over my beard. “But …” Mercy tenses, her eyes focusing on a spot somewhere behind me, mouth pressed into a thin line. “You can’t deny that—” I shift from one foot to the other. “Well … that there might be truth in what they hypothesized.”
Her gaze focuses back on me. “Truth?” she says, her tone carrying a hint of bewilderment. “That the gods' plan is for us to—” She stumbles over her words, her arms tightening over her chest. “To be …” Her eyes widen but she never finishes her sentence.
I let the silence fill in the gaps for her. I shrug. The action is just as unsure as I am.
My heart is in my throat. “I claim to hate you, Mercy.” My sigh is heavy with memories of our last few weeks spent together. I take a step toward her, my fingers grazing the hem of her short black skirt. Her gaze is just as intense as mine. I lean close to her ear. “And yet,” I whisper before biting her earlobe.Her breath hitches as her body relaxes against me, shoulders falling. “The sound of your throaty moans haunts my every waking moment.”
Her hands grip my lapels, her forehead falling softly to my shoulder like a leaf drifting slowly to the ground on a crisp autumn morning. I breathe in her perfume. It leaves me light-headed with need.
Finally, she speaks. Her voice is quiet, as if worried she’ll be overheard by the gods themselves. “There’s only one person who might have answers for us.”
I haven’t steppedfoot inside the Lottery hall since I pushed Mercy down the sacrificial pit and stormed out of there incensed with justified fury.
That was five weeks ago.
And even with what has recently transpired between us; I still stand by what I did. She deserved a lot more than a mere fall into old bones and an injured arm.
Now here we are. Back where it all began.
And oh, how things have changed.
But—
Something in Gemini’s words rings true. Maybe Mercy was just enacting a subconscious desire placed there by our gods.Maybethe outcome of the Lottery was just a fateful denouement of something much larger than the two of us. Larger than all of us.
