Page 65 of Reign

In the midst of our private, vicious conversation, a stone column rose from the floor between Callie and Tempest, high enough to become a table of sorts.

Or an altar.

Sabine reaches into her robe—

The knife flashing, arcing toward my chest—Callie leaping for Ivy—no, for me—the dagger sinking into Ivy’s neck—

Closing my eyes, breathing deep, I dislodge the image.

The dagger shines as it did that night, cleaned and sharpened. Sabine tosses it over the railing, but I don’t gasp like the rest of my brothers and sisters. I’m fully aware of Tempest’s ability to catch sharp things and come out unscathed.

His hand whips up and catches the blade at its hilt. Callie’s eyes widen, impressed, a hot exhale building in my mouth as I watch.

“Let the ritual commence,” Sabine coos, ensuring one last look at me, smiling, before she continues conducting the robing ceremony of the Virtues’ Missing Heir.

And Tempest’s new soulmate.

22

Callie

When the lush, gold cloak hits my shoulders, I don’t smile.

The weight of the heavy fabric anchors my shaking legs still, and as Tempest moves to my front, tying the heavy rope at my neck, my throat hits his deft fingers as I swallow.

The balcony applauds as Sabine introduces me as the newest Virtue in her ranks.

“Relax, possum,” Tempest says, his eyes lowered to the knot. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I whisper, but no amount of licking my lips will keep them moistened.

My wrist burns with his cut, the thin layer of Tempest’s blood on the delicate area already stiffening my skin as it dries.

Droplets of my blood and his stain the circular stone table that sinks back into the ground at the same time Tempest pulls up my hood.

My gaze flicks up—unbidden, yet necessary—to Chase, the movement of the table reminding me all too much of his time in the underground cage.

It’s just a stupid ceremony, meaning nothing to me. Mixing Tempest’s blood with my own—while unsanitary—doesn’t say anything about how I feel inside or who my heart belongs to.

And the dagger used to slice my flesh may have been used on Ivy, but it’s nothing but steel. It doesn’t contain Ivy’s lost soul, nor is it responsible for her death. Sabine is. She always will be.

So why do I feel so desolate rather than smug? I got what I wanted. I’m a Virtue.

“We shall reconvene in the Noble’s ritual room to celebrate,” Sabine continues, her teeth flashing as she pulls up her hood. “You are dismissed, my children. Viscounts and countesses, please come with us.”

The elder members retreat from the railing, Sabine and Daniel leading the way until their forms disappear behind the stone carving of a sleeping raven—Sabine’s study.

My vision sharpens on their backs, wishing I could run through them and steal Sabine’s binder. Now. Right now.

“Ready to party?” Tempest asks beside me.

“I’m ready to hurt something.”

“Already learning the decorum of a Virtue, I see.” Tempest offers me his arm. “Allow me to escort you, soulmate.”

I wince but take his arm.

“You know, if you were any other girl, I’d be highly insulted by how clearly it pains you to put your hands on me.”

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