Page 37 of The Reign of Blood

“It’s a kiss of amethyst,” he replies, his gaze settling on me.

A kiss of amethyst? I don’t recall that in anything my father taught me. It sounds like something veryBozzelli,that’s for sure.

“I’m assuming you’ve not heard of it.” He would assume correctly. I don’t say that, though; I just nod. He sighs. “It’s used to weaken someone’s magic. It’s basically a torture device that acts like a kiss of death. You look pale.”

I turn away like that will change his assessment of my appearance.

I feel pale. I feel ill. I feel awful.

Clearing my throat, I band my arms tight around my waist. “Lunch is nearly over. You should go.”

He frowns. “Go where?” I shrug. That part really isn’t my problem. “Come on.”

It’s my turn to look at him in confusion. He takes a step back, waving for me to follow him, and I shake my head. I really need to stop doing that. It’s not helping at all.

“I’m not going to class. Not like this,” I admit, and he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Then where is it you think we’re going?”

He reaches down and grabs my cloak off the ground, patting away any debris clinging to it. “I would carry you, but it looks like you really would puke this time,” he states, and my stomach clenches at the mere thought of it.

“Thanks,” I mutter, unsure if I’m thanking him for considering my current state before acting on his primal need to caveman me or sarcastically appreciating his assessment of me.

“Standing around here isn’t going to do you any good. Let’s go,” he repeats.

Nipping at my bottom lip, I consider my options. I’m definitely not going to classes—I couldn’t stand the looks from everyone at the moment—but the thought of being alone right now isn’t intriguing either.

Fuck.

Taking a step toward him, his shoulders relax a little, and we fall into step.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he drapes my cloak around me.

“To see how much it’s affected your magic.”

17

RAIDEN

Akiss of amethyst.

A fucking kiss of amethyst.

What is this shit?

She’s a goddamn princess. Bozzelli should be worshiping the ground she walks on, not torturing her. And make no mistake, that’s exactly what it is: torture. Why would something like that even exist on academy grounds?

Truthfully, this kind of thing shouldn’t be a surprise. Shady moves are classic for The Council and everyone in their grasp. Shit, the revelations about Kenner holding the damn queen on the compound should say enough. Especially when Cassian confirmed they knew all along. The capabilities of those in charge here will be off the scales, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

I want to go back there and tear Bozzelli to shreds, but that would have the opposite effect than what I would desire.

Fuck.

We’re here to find the perfect heir of our kingdom, not this.

Peering at Adrianna, I can’t seem to shift the tightness building in my chest. Her skin is pale, her shoulders slumped, and her steps short and sluggish. She’s a shell of her usual self.I bet if I said something to piss her off right now, I wouldn’t get her usual snark I desire so much. I’d be lucky if she even waved me off, but my bet would be on no response at all.

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