Page 13 of Cursed Heirs

A god without a throne.

Impossible.

He was no god, just another egomaniacal fool driven mad by the pursuit of what could never be achieved—absolute, unchallenged power.

No power was truly absolute.

Not even mine.

There were always caveats.

It could always be taken.

It certainly wasn’t a given and it never would be.

You had to be willing to fight and put in the work to obtain it and to keep it.

I knew that better than most, having ruled the Dark Fae Realm as their King for centuries on end.

I always had enemies.

I always had detractors.

Because, the inescapable truth was, there was always a price to great power.

As forFaceless,keeping their identity hidden suggested they intended to keep me alive and release me from this place, or it wouldn’t matter whether I knew or not.Ordid it suggest that if I knew their identity I would be able to sway their conviction and commitment to this worthless cause? Perhaps it was somebody I had power over?

Well, that didn’t exactly narrow it down.

Neither did it being somebody who’d defected fromExemplar’sLaw.

They were numerous and they were growing ever larger as time went on.

Constantine had certainly gotten that aspect of his campaign right, because theCataclysmhad caused a decrease in faith among supernatural beings inExemplar.He’d definitely succeeded there.

The rest of his campaign, though, thiscauseof his was several levels beyond foolish.

And he possessed a far too idealistic notion of what it would mean to rule the supernatural world.

I busied myself taking in the space again now that I was once again lucid enough to do so.

I had to keep my mind busy so as to remain alert for whatever was thrown my way next.

So far, they’d spent a great deal of time weakening me and demonstrating the agony that would continue to befall me if I didn’t cooperate when the time came.

I hadn’t been informed what that cooperation would entail yet.

They were biding their time, leaving me in the quiet and the dark, without any stimulation, likely an attempt to break me down.

I smiled inwardly. More foolishness.

I was bound to a large wooden chair made of oak, my wrists and ankles strapped to it withDuariammetal cuffs. They’d even bound around my back and torso to keep my wings from being unfurled. The only thing Icouldmove was my head.

The room was five hundred square feet, an empty space with dark hardwood floors and unpainted walls, a new space in a brand-new mansion from what I’d been able to observe when they’d dragged me through the place upon arrival.Unfortunately, I’d been unconscious on the way here so I hadn’t been able to determine where the house was. The windows were covered with heavy blackout curtains too.

Commotion outside drew my attention and had the four guards stationed around the space unmoving in the dark pushing from their positions and walking out.

A moment later, Constantine strolled on in, a large glass of water in hand, appearing like he hadn’t a care in the world.

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