Page 1 of Season Warriors & Wolves

Prologue

Toss. Black or white?

I’d been holding my breath past the point I could see straight. But if I breathed, I’d feel the cold bodies slither over my skin and wrap around my limbs. Feel their scales scratch my unhealed wounds. Or their weight straining my tied wrists even harder against the chains holding me upright.

The hisses had turned to a distant echo and my consciousness slowly began faltering, my body surrendering to the hold of the chains. Though each time I did slip away, the sting of fangs etched into my flesh and muscle jolted me awake, to keep me aware of what they were inflicting on me and of their cold presence.

The shiver crawling up my skin reminded me of a memory I had locked away with more than will and magic. Father used to lock me in these pits to train fear out of me when I was younger. I had taught myself not to blink and barely breathe loud enough to make sure I wouldn’t pass out while cold and scaly long bodies had brushed mine, encircled mine and bit mine to the point I had not woken for days. The memory was a silent dog whistle father used to remind me of fear though he had used it to strip me of it—he only had wanted me to fear one. To only fear him.

But there was no fear I felt.

Hatred. Burning hatred. Red and raw. It boiled quietly inside of me, inside the hearth they had failed to extinguish, a slow hearth of embers that suddenly caught flame again. It was overpowering. And it felt so…good. So disgustingly good.

Even deep within the walls hiding me, I could feel the vibrations of the rumbling thunder outside little before the chains binding me heated up and tightened, branding my skin with unbearable pain.

The serpents climbing my body dropped to the floor and skittered away from me, coiling and wrapping around themselves, tucking their heads in.

That…that was fear.

It was silent. Until the trickle of blood seeping from my wounds slowly dripped from the red metal and onto the damp floor that barely grazed my feet. The sound bothered me more than the ache of my stretched limbs, or the burns and the cuts, the hunger or the fog.

Father was taking pleasure in my insanity.

And so were the gods.

Do you take pleasure in my insanity, too?

A hand patted my cheek. “Who are you talking to?”

My eyes hurt to open. To stare at the woman who had robbed me. “The only one listening.”

She fluttered her pale lashes, leaning close to my face and whispering, “I’m glad you are up for a conversation. I’ve come to have a little chat with you.”

“We spoke. Not a while ago.”

Her bony hand wrapped around my jaw, black painted nails digging into my cheeks. “Are you losing your mind so soon?” She chuckled, giving my head a shake. “What did I say in your little head?”

“Don’t know. Don’t speak snake, bitch.”

She slapped me, hard, and I laughed harder. So hard it hurt. And it hurt so good.

“You don’t speak to me like that,” she bellowed, the sound reverberating.

“Mel, it’s too late to play mommy with me.” My eyes dropped to her stomach hidden between layers of Isjordian tulle and lace, and it made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe. “What a strong heartbeat from such a small thing. You might not have a red heart for me to pluck out, so thank you for growing another one.”

Her mouth quirked up in a cruel sneer and she raised a brow at me. “I’ve got the Night Prince locked just a few corridors from you. Perhaps he will be eager to answer me.”

“Pass him my greetings,” I said, slightly bowing my head to her. Was she so gullible? The man was made of death, while she bowed to it. The only answers he was getting out of him were cocktail recipes.

“You will tell me where your Olympian friends hide, eventually. Whether I take an eye or a kidney out of your—” she said, trailing a finger down my tattooed band of blessing curving around my ring finger, “brother-in-law.”

“Is that what you wish to know? Where Olympians hide? That much I’ll tell you.”

Her brows hiked up. “Isn’t that just sweet. Do tell.”

I leaned forward as much as the chains would allow me, and whispered, “My father’s nightmares.”

Her jaw ticked and she stepped back, shouting to the guards as she exited, “Throw the snakes back in with her and don’t take them out until the floor is covered in her blood.”