Page 148 of Heir of Illusion

I narrow my eyes at him as one of the snakes slithers into my lap, nudging it’s head against my stomach as it begs for attention. I quickly comply, petting it’s scales.

“They’re actually sweet once you get to know them,” I tell Darrow.

His horrified gaze drops to the creature in question before flitting back to me as he shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that.”

Nolan whimpers as the rest of the snakes wrap themselves around his legs, hissing as they give him a glimpse of their sharp fangs. Thorne holds out his hand, summoning the weapon only a reaper can wield. Every eye in the room flares wide as the scythe materializes, its silver blade radiating an unnatural shine.

“How—” Della’s question dies on her tongue as Thorne drags the tip of the curved blade over Nolan’s arm, sending a few drops of blood splattering to the floor. The reaction from the snakes is immediate as they pounce, hissing at each other as they lap up the blood with their forked tongues.

Darrow gags at the sight, raising his brows at me with concern. “And you let those things touch you?”

I shrug. “They like me.”

“Well,” he huffs, his face slightly green as he turns back to the action. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

I roll my eyes as Thorne raises the scythe to Nolan’s neck, letting it rest gently against the apple of his throat.

“One wrong move, and they will rip you apart,” he says, his voice low. “Do you understand?”

Nolan’s chin quivers as he watches the writhing snakes, who are now eyeing the bleeding cut on his arm with interest. “Y-yes,” he stutters. “I understand.”

Thorne nods, stepping back while keeping his blade in place.

“Bring him here,” I tell him as a plan forms in my mind.

Thorne’s head whips in my direction, his eyes hard. “Want to rethink that statement?”

“Not particularly,” I shake my head. “But I’ll repeat it, since you seem hard of hearing. Bring him here.”

He rolls his eyes. “Awake all of five minutes and she’s already making demands.”

Annoyance flares. “Fine, I’ll come over there.”

I swing my legs over the edge of the table, swaying dangerously when my feet hit the floor.

“Dammit, Angel,” Thorne grumbles as he leaps forward to catch me, trusting the snakes to keep Nolan in place. “Why must you always do things the hard way?”

“I’ve been asking myself that question since she was ten years old,” Della mutters.

I glare at both of them as he uses one arm to lift me onto the table again, keeping a hand on my shoulder to stop me from falling forward. Thorne twists his head toward the prisoner, holding out his scythe once more.

“You,” he barks. “Come here.”

The baker’s face is pale with terror as he steps over the shadow snakes. Several of them nip at his heels as he passes. When he stops in front of us, Thorne positions himself slightly in front of me. Apart from the fear shining in Nolan’s eyes, the young man looks the same as he always does. He shifts awkwardly on his feet, curling his shoulders inward as if to protect himself. I’m about to tell Thorne to release him when his attention suddenly dips to my collar. Something dark and covetous briefly flashes in his eyes, there one second and gone the next. But I caught it.

“He’s one of them,” I say softly, hating the words as I speak them. “He’s Forsaken.”

His eyes widen innocently as he shakes his head. “Ivy, I swear?—”

Thorne cuts him off by slamming a fist down on his head. Nolan eyes roll back as falls to the floor and the snakes wrap around him, ensuring he can’t escape when he wakes up.

“How did you know?” Della comes closer, staring down at our friend’s limp body.

“They always look at my collar.” I shiver as I recall the way Remy kept staring at it during the ball. “It’s as if they can’t help themselves.”

“That’s a useful tell,” she murmurs.

“Yes.” Darrow nods, leaning against the table next to me. “Very kind of them to out themselves like that.”

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