Page 60 of Cosmic Power

The dark mage locked eyes with her and realisation flashed across his face. His head snapped between her and the shifters at the head of the table, taking note of the physical similarities they shared.

Zamorra sighed. “Yes, we’re related. No, I’m not with them. They kidnapped me, just like I’m assuming they kidnapped all of you.”

She was met with a chorus of head nods and grunts.

“I’m—”

“Zamorra, I know. You’ve said so twice already,” the dark mage said with a little too much attitude for her liking.

“Well, you’re a rude one,” she muttered.

Footsteps reached her ears and she turned slightly, watching as Braeden strolled into the room. He glared at her as he walked down the table and took the empty seat on Barnabas’ left.

Daeva leaned in slightly, his chair groaning under the movement. “The silver hair is quite a powerful trait, no?” he murmured with humour.

She snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

Barnabas picked up his goblet filled with a dark red liquid as he rose from his golden throne. He raised it in the air, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. “To your last meal.”

ChapterSixteen

For a man that was getting nothing but death glares the whole night, Barnabas sure was in a cheery fucking mood. He ate, chatted and drank like this was a normal night with guests that actually wanted to be there, not a group of people that were being held against their will.

It was…ridiculous. But hey, at least the food was good.

If Zamorra were to take Barnabas at his word, this would be her last meal. Wasn’t that an ominous fucking thing to say?

She was the only one eating, apart from the three shifters at the head of the table. Lilith, Daeva and the two mages refused to even touch the food, like they were on strike or some shit. Zamorra didn’t see the point. Unless there was some God-given miracle, she was most likely going to die very, very soon. Might as well gorge herself on this feast that smelt like fucking heaven while she still could.

“I suppose you’re all wondering what it is exactly you’re doing here,” Barnabas said as he cut his food with perfect grace.

“Please, enlighten us,” Daeva said, so much darkness vibrating from him that it made Zamorra shiver. His hands were clenched, his body shaking with rage.

Barnabas smiled. “It’s been a long,longtime coming. So much research, so much planning it’s taken to finally get to this point, to get you all here. Tell me, does anyone know anything about the Original Artifacts?”

Zamorra frowned. She vaguely remembered her mother and uncle talking about them when she was kid. They were rumoured to have belonged to the OGs and they held unimaginable power.

“They’re a myth,” Lilith grunted, still glaring daggers at the Alpha shifter.

He chuckled. “Oh, they most certainly are not. They’re very, very real—and more powerful than any of your tiny brains can comprehend. I’ve spent my entire life hunting them down and now, I finally have them all.”

Zamorra couldn’t help it, she snorted. “And what now, huh? World domination? What exactly is your plan here, Barney? Why the fuck have you kidnapped all of us?”

His eyes blazed silver. “Patience, youngin. I’ll get there, in my own time. Now, where was I? Ah yes, the Original Artifacts. As I was saying, I searched far and wide to find them. And boy, it wasn’t easy. They were at opposite ends of the world and being protected by the most powerful beings in existence. Can anyone guess who they are?”

She rolled her eyes and chomped down on a lamb chop, grease spilling down her arms. He was enjoying this shit way too much. It was like he’d practiced this speech in the mirror a hundred times to make sure he got it right.

When all he received was more death stares, he sighed disappointedly, as if he was expecting all of them to participate.

Like any of them gave a fuck.

“The Originals—or Ancestrals, as some like to refer to them as.”

Daeva tensed at her side and she glanced at him, her brows lowered in a frown.

“I myself prefer Originals. ‘Ancestrals’ seems too high and mighty in my opinion. Like they’re some type of God. They’re not. You see, the thing about beings with so much power is they don’t know what to do with themselves…they get cocky. They think they’re untouchable, that no one could possibly best them,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Their arrogance will be their downfall.”

“And you would know all about arrogance, wouldn’t you, Barney?” Zamorra said, shoving a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

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