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Did I ever have reason not to trust this man?
36
CORVAN
We sit at the head of the room, in chairs made from the bones and tusks ofpachydar,the massive white-furred beasts that roam the valleys and tracts between the mountains.
A low table with a lacquered black surface stretches the length of the tent. The elders are seated on the left, on low cushions. The shamans are on the right.
Sylhara sits at the other end, directly opposite us.
After all, she’s theKiza.The one that speaks to the gods on behalf of the people. Sylhara herself told me that she almost died once. When she was a child, she fell through black ice and into the frozen waters of the Lake Beyond the Peaks.
She says the Goddess of Death spoke to her.
That’s why she’s able to look me in the eyes. According to Khaturian lore, she’s beenanointed.The others won’t. They believe I’m directly connected to the underworld, and thus I can’t possibly be treated as a fellow human—to do so would open a connection to Hecoa’s domain, leading them to an early death.
I’m bad luck, apparently.
I glance at Finley. She’s terribly tense. It’s completely understandable.
I’ve placed a huge demand upon her.
I wonder if I could have done things differently; given her more warning, handled matters more sensitively. But I’m not in the habit of beating around the bush, and sometimes these things are best dealt with by confronting them directly.
It’s imperative that I know what she is before my enemies do.
Whyher blood does this to me.
“Let’s begin,” I say, raising the silver goblet that’s filled with the blood of a Khaturian. “I thank you for the offering. The essence of life itself.”
Sylhara quietly translates my words. The Khaturians tip their heads in acknowledgment.
I take a sip. The blood is still warm. It tastes pleasant, but not exceptional. Then again, I knew that would be the case.
Nothing can compare toher.
Finley’s eyes flick toward me. Her lips are pressed together in a disapproving line… almost as if she’s annoyed.
Surely not. She can’t be annoyed bythis,can she?
I drink again, watching her out of the corner of my eye. Almost imperceptibly, she stiffens.
Are you annoyed that I’m drinking the blood of another, my sweet Finley?
Ordinarily, I would delight in teasing her, but now isn’t the time. If she’s truly feeling possessive of me, then it isn’t an unwelcome development.
I down the entire glass, making the Khaturians wait. Serves them right for putting us through all this fucking custom and ceremony. I play the role ofKralbecause it’s what’s expected; theyneedme to be this mythical figure, the one that will protect them from the dangers that lie beyond the mountains.
Out of respect for their traditions, I play the role.
According to their ancient wisdom, a being like me only appears in these lands when the world is facing great upheaval.
It’s how the gods keep the balance in the mortal world, apparently.
I set the cup down on the table. It’s probably for the best that I’ve taken this sustenance. I can’t drink from her now. Not when she’s in this state.
“Finley,” I say softly, leaning in so only she can hear. “Your sweet essence is the most exquisite thing I’ve ever known. By that alone, you own me. But I don’t want you just for your blood. In truth, I never thought that a woman like you could possibly exist. You’re everything I could have hoped for in a partner.”
