Page 44 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

A member of the Order cleared his throat and said, “Perhaps we should focus on her, my king? While a nuisance, the Eye has not caused the mayhem she has.”

Nismera’s head whipped to the Order member. “I am not concerned with Samkiel’s whore. She has no one. Her friends are here under my thumb, her family slain, and Samkiel is dead. She has no protection. She is no longer a threat to me. All she is doing is acting like a hurt child, burning all in her path. It means nothing to me. We have more important issues to worry about. When and if she gets close to me, I will execute her. I will make such a display of it that any thoughts of defying me festering in anyone’s head will be extinguished.”

Nismera sighed and leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her. The map she’d laid out shimmered on the table. The pieces were carved and imbued with witch magic. She watched mountains, small buildings, hills, and clouds smaller than my finger shift across the landscape, keeping an eye on her enemies. With a swipe of her hand, the image changed, and I sucked in a breath. Oh gods. She had a living map of the realms. How?

Vincent watched her like a starved beast desperate to feast. My lip curled at how entirely obsessed he was with her. He always watched her or was a hair away from her. I couldn’t believe the almighty, powerful goddess felt the same. My gaze locked on to him, and I swallowed hard, trying to picture it. With all the options she had tossed at her feet, why did she choose Vincent?

Secure in my invisibility, I allowed my eyes to linger on him a fraction longer. His long, dark hair spilled down his back, but he’d pulled it off his face on one side and woven it into a warrior braid. The dragonbane armor Nismera’s highest-ranking people wore added bulk to his already large, muscular frame.

I suppose he was handsome, but that beauty faded once you knew him, knew what he had done and was capable of. It was a shame, though, a shame to be so beautiful and ugly at the same time. Maybe that’s why they fit each other so well. I wondered if she would wed him, make him her consort officially. Would they rule over the wasteland she left in her wake?

My gaze returned to his face, and my breath caught. He was looking right at me. Impossible. I glanced down, noting the twitch of green flame in my pendant. The spell was still working. I was invisible, yet . . . I moved back, sinking deeper into the shadows. His eyes didn’t follow. Good. Maybe I was wrong. I took a deep breath and forced my attention back to the room.

Vincent leaned forward, clearing his throat. I could have sworn his eyes cut to me once more. All eyes immediately focused on him, but her armored guards didn’t flinch in his presence. He clasped his hands behind his back. “With all due respect, my king, I feel we should persist in seeking out Dianna’s whereabouts.”

Nismera rested her chin on her hand. “And why is that?” she all but purred. She only spoke to Vincent that way, and I didn’t know why, but it made me want to hurl.

“Because we are not dealing with Ayla. Ayla died the second Kaden got a hold of her. We are talking about Dianna. We are not dealing with Samkiel’s mate. We are dealing with Kaden’s.”

The room went deathly quiet, and I was lucky more creatures in here had heartbeats because mine pounded like a drum.

Nismera chuckled, but the room remained stagnant, the air clinging to itself and flavored with fear. Everyone watched her carefully. If those devilish eyes lit up, there would be no escape. All it would take was one flick of her hand, and everyone would burn, destroyed by the devastating god power she wielded so competently.

“Vincent, Kaden has no mate. He was not born of flesh.”

“He does now. He made her, crafted her when he found her. They spent a thousand years together. He trained her, made her a killer, and respectfully, my king, a damn good one. She killed Alistair with her bare hands. I was there when she flattened his entire organization. I was there when she came back from Yejedin, covered in the ashes of Tobias. There for it all. She may have been made for Samkiel, but she is Kaden’s blood, his anger, rage, and, above all, power. After what we did to Samkiel, she will not rest. She nearly leveled Onuna for Gabriella. What will she do for him?”

We waited. We all did. Even the Kings of Yejedin did not flinch.

Nismera took a deep breath as if contemplating, then leaned back in her chair. She tapped her perfectly painted nails on the table.

“You think I should fear her?”

“Absolutely not, my king, only that leaving her to continue on her warpath may bring your rule into question. You do not want to send the wrong message to those still poised against you.”

“The boy has a point,” Gewyrnon said.

My skin prickled at being this close to another King of Yejedin. Even the witches feared them. Gewyrnon could manipulate disease and spread a plague with his bare hands. The witches had long memories and remembered the last time he had wreaked havoc with his powers. His counterpart was just as dangerous. Ittshare could sculpt ice without so much as blinking. His hair was spiked with frost and I could feel the icy chill emanating from his skin from here.

“How so?” Ittshare interjected. “The Evunin realm may be a frozen wasteland now, but the bodies crystallized in my ice were not just those who would not bend, but rebels, as well. If she is of Kaden and she is against us, she will be seen as a weapon to dethrone you. Just as they saw with Unir.”

Nismera rubbed a hand under her chin, glancing at the others in the room. “She is Ig’Morruthen. No one, not even the Most High, would follow her.”

“The God King and his son may be dead, but she could be a beacon of hope no matter how violent. They do not need to follow her as long as she opposes you,” Ittshare said.

Nismera’s eyes bore into each one of them, and I held my pendant a fraction tighter.

“Very well. It will be taken care of,” Nismera said decisively. She stood, and that was that.

Vincent stepped back, and the others stepped forward. Nismera didn’t mention anything else of Dianna as she stood over her map of the realms.

My mind reeled. Rebels? Against Nismera and mention of the Most High? Who was that, and why did it give her pause? I listened as they spoke, but there was no more mention of rebels or the Most High. She only talked of places she wished to secure next, food for the palace and troops, and how to cut off supplies to certain areas. A messenger entered, telling her of a shipment heading her way in a few days.

The room shifted at last, and everyone started clearing out. I stuck to the corner of the room, waiting until every last one was gone before I moved toward the table. Checking one last time to make sure no one remained, I tried and failed to make the map move.

“Come on,” I whispered, and yet nothing. My magic hit a brick wall and bounced back into me. It remained just a cold, empty stone slab with indentations and scratches.

Shaking my head, I moved around the table, looking for anything I could use, a torn piece of paper, an item left behind, but there was nothing. I bent and checked under the table, but even the floor was scrubbed clean. I cursed and stood, my gasp cutting off when a large armored hand wrapped around my throat.

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