Page 81 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

The aftermath of death is silence, and it echoes, fills each and every room in this manor, each and every pore in my skin. I stand there as the two bodies I just turned from living beings to corpses stop twitching and begin to grow cold. I still wait for some emotion to overtake me. Guilt. Remorse. Nothing of the kind comes for me. Perhaps the Gods of those emotions have forgotten my existence.

I turn away from my targets, less quiet now as I open the door and leave the same way I’d come but not in the same form. I walk with more confidence and less fear than before down the hall. A buzzing starts up in my veins. A power I’d never known existed before now. Is this why Ophelia is the way that she is? Is this how killing makes a person?

My feet come to a slow stop as I reach the outside and I turn back with a frown, but even if I feel for the mortal child contained within the manor walls—full of fear and anger and sorrow—he is not my target. He should be none of my concern. Ophelia is waiting.

Still, I look back anyway. Wondering who he is and why he’s there. I step away from the manor and rescale the wall, dashing across the streets and back into the shadows. I’ll tell Ophelia about him, I decide. Even if he’s none of my concern, maybe he’s the reason those two were put on her list to begin with.

Maybe, in killing them, I did something good. Maybe I saved him. Or maybe that’s just a hope on my part to excuse the lack of repentance I feel after killing two people. Good people are supposed to not want to hurt people, but as I stood over the Gods, sleeping in their bed, it didn't matter to me. The us versus them—the them or me I’d relied on so much before seeing them before me, under my blade. It faded away.

It didn’t matter anymore who they were or what they’d done. All I knew was that I hated them, the Gods and what they represented. I killed them because I was ordered to, but I didn’t cry for them because I didn’t care to.

Maybe Ophelia is right, I think to myself. Maybe I was made for this.

Chapter 35

Kiera

“Who is he?” The sudden sound of a male voice jolts me awake. I sit up, my hand immediately beneath my pillow to grip the dagger I keep there before I realize who it is that’s woken me. It’s only the familiarity of the voice that stops me from whipping it out and throwing it in the following second.

Slowly, I turn my entire body towards the intruder. I don’t know how, but Kalix is in my room and somehow, I never heard him enter. A quick glance at the door tells me that it’s not open.

“How did you get in here?” I demand, my voice sharper than I normally would let it be. The part of me that knows it’s important to keep up the pretense of subservience is warring with the part that can’t possibly understand how someone managed to sneak up on me when only two people have ever been able to do so—and I suspect it’s because I’ve known both Ophelia and Regis for long enough that somewhere, deep down in my psyche, I trust them. Even if I shouldn’t trust anyone.

I do not trust Kalix Darkhaven. So, there should be no excuse for how he managed to sneak into my room without waking me.

“Answer my question,” Kalix responds, his tone deepening as he steps forward and out of the shadows. The moment his face is revealed by the moonlight pouring in through my window, his eyes glow an unnatural green. “Who. Is. He?”

“Who is who?” I shake my head and carefully withdraw my hand from my pillow, hoping he doesn’t notice its placement.

“The man you were with,” Kalix growls.

My lips part and I think back, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. I must take too long, though, because in the next second, Kalix takes two giant steps forward and slams both of his palms on my bed. The mattress squeaks in protest as he presses down, leaning over me and blocking out the moonlight. Twin pools of moss bore into me. The various shades of jade swirl and twist, entrancing me, making me feel as though I’m falling into an alga-infested ocean.

Seduction. Enchantment. Persuasion. Fuck. It only takes me a moment to realize what’s happening. Kalix is trying to use Divine persuasion on me, and I’m the only one between us who knows it won’t work. It’s never worked on me. At least, never before now. Any time I’ve run into a Divine Being and felt them pushing their persuasion and will upon me, I've been able to wave it off. It never mattered if they were Lower God or Upper God or even one of the few Mortal Gods I’d come across. Now, though, I find myself struggling under the weight of his will. Why?

I don’t have a chance to figure it out. Kalix lifts one hand and cups my face, tilting my head back until his eyes are all I can see. “You can tell me, little mortal,” he whispers. “Who was the man you were with? Is he your lover?”

His breath brushes over my face. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I say, forcing the words out.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. Irritation? Probably. I wait, curious to see his reaction. Instead of repeating the question or offering more details, Kalix changes tactics. His fingers become pliant against my face, stroking rather than holding. A shiver slithers down my spine as the spark of Divinity spreads from where he’s touching me. I’ve never liked the way someone else’s Divinity felt, but Kalix’s is different. Rather than invasive, it feels like warm water washing away the dust and grime that always seems to permeate me.

I’m filthy. Dirty. The lowest of the low. Living and breathing in squalor and he’s here to lift me out. How kind of him. My eyelids sink down. Curiosity and comfort swaddle me, wrapping around me and forcing me to sway towards the man above me.

“You were allowed out of the Academy grounds, were you not?” he asks.

I nod. My head feels so damn heavy. My lashes flutter. My mind battles for and against the need to give him everything—whatever he desires. It’s as if there’s a deep-rooted need inside of me, a knowing that tells me giving in to this man will bring about the most wondrous pleasure I’ve ever known.

Lies.

Lies.

Lies.

All I know are lies.

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut before I realize what I’m doing in an effort to cut off the strength of his power. My hands curl into fists where they rest on the thin mattress beneath me and a sharp sting right over the top of one of them brings me, haltingly, back to reality.

I open my eyes and look down in time to see a small black little spider scurrying over the top of my bedsheets and disappearing into the wall my bed is shoved against. The little red bump on my pale skin and the quickly fading pain of the venom that the small creature unleashed is all that remains.

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