Page 87 of The Throne's Undoing

"Perhaps they are merely legendsnow, but there was a time when they roamed the world freely. Lothian had made great strides in his research, but what he lacked in gumption, his son excelled at. When he showed Sebastian his research, his son went beyond the research and started experimenting.

"Sebastian has been able to create something akin to a dragon by morphing the genetics of other animals. He calls it a drakonis. While I do not care so much about their pursuitto recreate the legendary beasts, I have found their research beneficial in other ways."

Myra's heart hammered in her chest as Domitius cocked his head and continued.

"You see, I have studied gifts like yours and Kalisandre's for decades, ever since my father informed me about them when I was a mere child. Your gifts are a result of the gods' blood within your veins. But I could never understand why these gifts have always been concentrated in Pontia.

"After all, when the gods came to the mortal world, they traveled and lived throughout Vaneria. And yet, only Pontians have been found to have these unique abilities. For centuries, the Pontians have kept their secrets by secluding themselves from the rest of Vaneria. They have harbored their gifts and kept them from the rest of the world.

"Many think the Great War started one hundred years ago because of a dispute between lords. However, it was actually because the rulers on that little island were afraid their truth would be revealed to the world. They wanted to keep the power to themselves. Selfish of them, don't you think?"

"But I am not a Pontian," Myra whispered, the words slipping out subconsciously.

Domitius smirked, the sinister twitch of his lips only increasing Myra's anxiety. "Ah, you see, that is where you are wrong. Your mother, in fact, was a Pontian."

Myra's brows twisted together. She didn't believe a word the king was saying, and yet...

She thought back to when she first stepped onto Pontian soil. Once on land, as the salt in the air twisted around her, the kingdom felt...familiar. It reminded Myra of her mother, as if spring bloomed there every day.

Myra had thought it was because Domitius hadn't tainted the island, but perhaps she had been wrong. Maybe there was more to it.

"But how do you know that?" Myra asked in disbelief, voice shaking.

"The details of the matter are unimportant. You and Kalisandre are similar in that sense. Always looking for the details. Always wanting to know everything and wanting to understand everything." Scoffing, Domitius waved his hand in the air. "This is the only thing that matters. For decades, I have tried to figure out a way to replicate the abilities, but I have been unsuccessful until now."

The king stepped toward Myra, and she had to force her feet to stay in place as the fear drifting from the room twisted around her ankles.

"You have proven to be most useful. And now that we know that you can do what we need you to, we have rewarded you." He smiled from ear to ear.

"Rewarded me?" Myra repeated, her stomach turning.

"Come." The king turned to the door and opened it, ushering her forward. "Let me show you."

Aghast, Myra stared at the door, blinking.

She did not wish to see whoever it was that lay inside. Her mind was already spiraling.

Somehow, her feet carried her forward even though every nerve in her body screamed for her not to listen to the king. To stop the madness and stop aiding him, for if Myra couldn't break the cycle now, there would be no hope for her ever.

Dr. Thorne set down the syringe and bowed low as Myra and the king entered.

"Your Majesty, everything is in order. We are ready to begin when you are," he announced.

"How is his temperament today?" King Domitius asked brightly.

"It is..." Dr. Thorne hesitated and squinted through his glasses at the ceiling as he searched for an answer. Finally, he sighed. "It is the same as it normally is, Your Majesty. However, I am hopeful that he will tire himself out soon enough. One can only fight for so long as we have seen."

His beady eyes landed on Myra. But before Myra could retreat, Domitius stepped behind her, his presence overwhelming her.

"Isn't that the truth?" King Domitius said in agreement.

Dr. Thorne nodded and turned toward the curtain dividing the room. As the curtain was drawn back, Myra's tongue turned leaden, and her jaw dropped at the sight of the new man strapped to the table.

And for a fleeting moment, relief washed over her because it was not her brother who lay upon the table as she feared but rather the King of Frenzia. Rian's wine-colored hair stuck to his forehead, his brown skin was ashen, and his green eyes were wide and bloodshot as he swept his gaze across the room in a panic.

"Your Majesty?" Myra whispered in horror, her voice no more than a faint breath. "I--I do not understand. He is not a Pontian."

"Good observation," Domitius mused. "I admit, that has been my goal for so long that I did not fathom that there could be other possibilities. But Sebastian's youth has enlightened me. We do not simply seek to harvest powers; we wish to transform normal civilians."

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