Page 94 of Of Blood & Stone

Tosh smiled as he stood, extending his hand with a warm grin on his face.

“I’m not the one throwing raspberry biscuits or sneaking out into the city instead of attending my lessons, am I?”

“Could do you some good.”

“Just get up, you miscreant,” Tosh laughed.

Elnok reached for the strong hand of his brother. Suddenly, something cold and dark wrapped around Elnok’s arm, his stomach, his throat. The face of his brother shifted from mirth to terror. Heavy silence gripped the room. Elnok turned to ask their parents what was wrong only to find his mother’s and father’s bodies having withered into pale skeletons, turning into ash as they fell to the floor.

His mother’s teacup shattered against cold brick.

“You,” Tosh growled through bared teeth, “my own brother, trying to kill me… for this?”

Vutror’s crown now sat on his brother’s head, blue and red jewels shining like blood in the dark sea.

“No, Tosh, please—” Elnok begged as he backed away, the rug replaced with biting stone.

Tosh yanked his arm. Elnok yelled as his brother quickly grabbed his throat?—

“No!” a woman’s voice screamed, “Stop hurting him, please!”

Searing hot pain hissed against Elnok’s flesh as reality came into focus. Sylzenya kneeled in front of him, her face covered in tears while vines wrapped around her body.

“Then you’ll do as I say,” Distrathrus commanded, removing the sword covered in orodyte serum from his back, a swell of relief aching in Elnok’s skin, “Take the cure, and this thief will be escorted home without so much as another scar.”

Panting and clenching his jaw, Elnok locked his gaze with Sylzenya’s. “Don’t listen to him.”

“I’m not going to let him hurt you,” she replied.

“He’ll do it anyways,andhe’ll have you under his control.”

Sylzenya turned to Distrathrus, “You promise he’ll return home safely if I take the cure?”

Dread spiked in his veins. “Sylzenya,no.”

“Of course,” Distrathrus replied.

“He’slying,” Elnok sneered.

“I’ll do it.”

Elnok meant to yell for her to stop, but Kharis’ hand covered his mouth, his pleas muffled.

“Excellent. Nyla, you may release her. Kharis, you’ll be in charge of burning him if she refuses to cooperate at any point.”

Elnok threw back his head, earning a grunt from Kharis and a loosened grip on his mouth. “Sylzenya,don’t do th?—”

A vine wrapped around his mouth, pulling back until it sat between his teeth. He tried biting through it, but it was as tough as stone. Eyes widened, Elnok struggled against the vines, wishing he could stab Distrathrus in the chest. Estea’s leader—the god of chaos—moved around him and towards Sylzenya, presenting her with a small glass vial filled with black liquid, the pale moonlight filtering through the trees giving it a glossy glow.

“Pour this on your cut,” he instructed. “Allof it.”

Elnok shouted for her to stop, his screams and yells muffled.

Her deep blue eyes found his, a look of regret stitched into her face as she took the vial from Distrathrus’ pale hand. Dread and guilt and darkness consumed him as Sylzenya uncorked the bottle, her throat bobbing as she placed it over her shoulder, the opening of her cut already dripping with blood.

She froze.

Distrathrus lifted his hand.

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