Page 5 of The Prince's Mage

She believed him now. Far too late for it to matter, but she did.

Behind her the heretic spoke. “PrincepsNikias—wanted her alive—heal her injuries—memories—the plan.”

Nikias yelled over Marcella’s furious screaming. “—order you—deal with Gavril—useful information—she had no value—make Gavril see—not have this demon—second pulling my—brother—she can rip his—hands.”

“—you order, Your Highness.”

Prince Nikias disappeared from Marcella’s view and the woman appeared instead, eyeing Marcella like she was a squeaking rat.

And she was.

The woman picked up something from a table behind her, a glass with runes etched onto it. Marcella—in the distant recesses of her mind that weren’t overcome wholly with her terror—remembered how she and all her people had been taught to never take an Inimicus cup that had runes etched onto it. It was yet another disgusting way they manipulated the body.

The woman grabbed Marcella’s head, twisting it to the side and shoving the glass into her mouth. Marcella shut her mouth in just enough time the liquid splashed against her lips. The woman scowled and pinched Marcella’s nose shut and shoved again, forcing her jaw to open and drink.

Marcella choked down the poisonous Inimicus drink, certain this was it.

May Asentai welcome her daughter with open arms.

May Gavril stay safe, wherever he was.

Chapter2

MARCELLA

Marcella wasn’t certain what was real anymore.

The pain was all consuming. There were ebbs and flows to it, but the aching, burning, and throbbing were never far. Fresh. Old. It didn’t matter. It was everything.

She tried opening her eyes at times, but it was either too dark or too bright and she never saw anything other than the vitae that made up runes. It was just the glow of magic energy.

Once she thought she saw the Heart in front of her, and she opened her mouth. But nothing came out. She was silenced. Or she’d screamed her voice gone forever.

And she was furious. She cursed and raged at Nikias silently. At all the heretics. At all the Inimicus.

She could sense the vitae in the Heart.

She wasn’t sure if she was stretching her hand out to it or someone was forcing her hand on it. All she knew was that the feeling of the cool crystal beneath her hand was different from the burning pain or the sweat-stained wood scraping her skin.

Marcella wasn’t a void heart. She couldn’t absorb vitae from things like those creatures. But she could sense the vitae pulsing in the crystallization Asentai had left behind when she’d taken her last walk on the earth. A reminder of her power, her gift to her children—mages like Marcella—to know where their power came from and who to turn to.

Marcella couldn’t move her fingers to cast even if she could access the vast amount of vitae in the crystal she was touching.

Someone was making her touch it.

But Marcella could pray.

So she did.

She prayed that—if not her to be blessed by Asentai with a miracle—that one day, someone who touched the Heart would be. And in that moment, a different burning overtook her. It was separate from the pain burning in her, but it was intrinsically tied to it. The last time she’d felt this kind of fury, she’d spit out the worst curses she could think of.

All directed at the one man who’d been trying to help her.

His absence sat in her chest like the Abyss sat at the edge of the world. If something had happened to him… If his people had sent him out, and he’d been hurt…

This time…

She prayed that the Inimicus would be destroyed. She prayed the so-called peace they claimed to be pursuing was ripped out of their grip and they would know the suffering they caused her people.

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