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His words are insane. They sound like the rantings of a madman. Perhaps he has been mad all along. Pretending to be flattered, I raise my brows and say, “Me? Your queen? You want me? Antony, I had no idea that you felt that way about me still.” In truth, I didn’t think that Antony ever had any feelings for me. I always felt it was merely a battle of wills between two rivals, with me as the prize he and Yorian fought over. That he was harboring an obsession to the point where he wants to take me as his queen . . . well, honestly I am surprised. And more than a little disturbed.
Antony steps closer, still holding my hand, looking fierce, a wild, possessive light in his eyes. “My dear Pells, of course! I love you! It was always you. You were meant to be the queen of this country. It was Yorian’s greatest mistake to put you aside for that traitorous, lowborn fairy bitch. With you at his side he wouldhave been unstoppable. But now you will bemine, instead. As you were always meant to be.”
The skin-crawling feeling comes back to me again, alarm spreading through me. I struggle to keep it off my face. But through sheer will, I keep my smile in place. It is the second declaration of love that I have received in the same number of days, but how different I feel about this one compared to Verrick’s! I was panicked, to be sure, when Verrick spoke, but I felt safe to tell him what I truly thought. With this, I can see the ownership in Antony’s eyes as he looks at me, and hear the lie in his words when he says he loves me. All things that were absent when Verrick, in his sincere, solemn way, told me his feelings. Oh, how could I have been so blind? I have to save him.
To that end, I bring my other hand up to clasp Antony’s with both of my hands, in a way that I hope looks romantic. “Oh, Antony,” I say, fluttering my lashes and looking demure, “my dearest friend. How happy I am to hear you say these things! I hope it’s never been a secret that I always have had certain . . . feelings for you, even as I wasn’t allowed to express them. We have been kept apart for too long!”
“Yes!” exclaims Antony, his eyes taking on a feverish, mad sort of gleam. “I knew you felt it too! Yorian kept us apart. But no longer! We were meant to be, you and I. You will sit by my side, my equal. We will rule this country and the Cabal in equal measure.”
Then he kisses me. I fight back my shudder of revulsion, kissing him back with as much pretend passion as I can muster. His tongue shoves into my mouth, lukewarm and overly wet. It’s absolutely disgusting, but I let out a fake moan. He pulls me into his arms and I fear he will try to go farther, when we are interrupted by a clearing of the throat.
We pull apart and Antony, with frustration in his features, barks out, “What?”
“Forgive me, sire,” Hoggins, or I suppose Sting, says, “but the sun is about to set. If we are to do the ritual, it must be right now.”
“Fine, fine,” Antony sighs, pulling, thankfully, apart from me. “We will begin. Bring the sacrifice.”
He gives me a look that is full of lust and mania. “We will continue this. Later. After we have completed the ritual.”
His words sound like threats to my ears, but I give him a sultry smile before asking, “What is this ritual I keep hearing about? Why are we in your sanctum, and what are all these runes?”
He smiles and pulls me along, taking me through the bloody room to the throne. “I told you we needed a sacrifice, the blood of an enemy. It is for a ritual I found in our ancient texts. A way to summon the full strength of Lord Grazrath into my body. I will become stronger than a hundred orcs and be able to expel them from the country. Then we will invade Orik, this time with the backing of the strongest demon of the Nether, and take their foul country and kill the traitor queen and that animal she calls a husband.”
“If there is such a ritual, why didn’t Yorian use it before he invaded Orik the first time?”
Antony scoffs. “Because he was too weak and afraid to use it. The texts call it forbidden and warn against its use, but the ancestors were cowards! That much power, there for the taking and they left it sitting there. No,Iam the one destined to wield Lord Grazrath’s power. I will be his avatar and champion, because I have the ambition and will to do so.”
He sits on the throne, dragging me with him so that I am sitting on his lap like a common harlot at a tavern. The hooded figures that surround the room make no move to look at us, but I still feel a little humiliated. Still, I smile and put my arms around him, as if there was no other place I would rather be.
“Kiss me again, Pells,” he orders. “Let me feel how much you want me.”
With little recourse, I lean down and kiss him. I’d almost forgotten the feeling of being forced to give affection to someone that I don’t want. It is violating in a way that is hard to put into words. Being here with Antony reminds me of when I was withYorian, when I had to play the perfect, loving mistress to a man I despised. Luckily, I know how to give a practiced kiss, make the right noises and move my body just so, so that the man holding me doesn’t know what I truly think of him.
I am using all my practiced arts on Antony when the door to the sanctum opens again. Antony pulls away from me and peers around my shoulder, a cruel smile growing on his face.
“Ah, the orc. Here at last.”
I turn on Antony’s lap, careful not to appear too eager. What I see makes my heart stop. Verrick, in thick, black chains, being pulled along by Sting and another Cabal member. The chains look strong, too strong to escape from. He looks at me sitting on Antony’s lap, his face inscrutable. What must he think of me, sitting here with his enemy, after being captured when I swore he would be safe? Does he think me a traitor, like Friza? It is impossible to tell.
Antony’s hands snake around my waist, holding me in a possessive grip when he says, “Look at him. It must destroy him to see that you are truly mine. Did you know, Pells, that he was concerned about you? He must have developed feelings for you, like the oaf he is. Sting, did you not hear him ask to make Pells his mate?”
“I did, sire.”
“And what did she say?”
Sting says in an uninterested tone, “She refused him and was disgusted, of course. As any true human woman would be.”
The man holding me laughs, a spiteful sound, “You did your job too well, Pells. Did you have anything you wish to say to this pathetic creature before he meets his end?”
I think fast, faster than I ever have in my life. What can I do? What can I say? How can I turn this situation to my advantage so that I can save Verrick and we can both escape?
Finally, I laugh, a mirror to Antony’s, letting cruelty drip from my voice as I say, “I have nothing to say to that stupid beast. He should have known that no human could truly have feelings for him. No, I have nothing to say to him. But I do have a requestfor you, dear Antony.”
“What is it, Pells?”
I take a deep breath, smile and say, “When it is the time in the ritual to kill him? Please, Antony. Let me do it.”
Chapter 23
