Throne of Bones

Chapter Seventeen

Kana's POV: 

Death seemed like a good option. Yet having her eternal soul castrated by a youth, a mother, and a crone; Is a horrible outcome. The Dark Queen was grinning and she panted for air.

The Commander of Doranelle was pressed up against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut. Attempting to block out the ringing of her mortifying screams. He doubted that the waterfall was enough to block her out now.

She will believe it now. She opened her eyes, and the Dark Queen's grin spread into her eyes. She clasped her hands together, "I am happy we have finally come to an agreement. We will do a private ceremony, you will be bby head spy, and spymaster. If I want someone dead, you will deal with it. You will also be incharge of Political persuasion."

Her voice was the commanding tone of a Queen. The Mother had vanished from her mind, the hollowness in her stomach craving food. It already felt so empty, like it was caving in on itself.

Her throat was raw, incapable of any words, no her screams were too costly for that. Everything was numb, Maeve intended her to fuck anyone on command. With the Blood Oath, she was unable to tell the female no.

"Lorcan take her to the castle," She waved her fingers. "The ceremony will be between Kana and I."

She paused at the doorway, and turned. The smirk on her face was horrifying. "Because of your other worldly background, you will be given the title of Princess in Doranelle." She smiled, her canines longer than her own, and stalked out.

Lorcan was careful, but not gentle, no the male was never gentle. He propped her up in his arms, snatching a cloak from somewhere. Keeping her limp form a loft with an arm he wrapped her up tightly.

"We'll leave after the streets are cleared." His voice was unwavering. Her raspy breath catching on what must be blood in her lungs. She fought to keep her eyes open, yet part of her wondered if she wanted the first look of the City of Rivers to be from her wrecked state. From the arms of the Commander of Doranelle.

She didn't get to choose, as the invisible tendrils of the Hellas' blessed took her consciousness away. The darkness was smooth, yet his face continued to flash before his eyes. Over and over again, a dead version of her fiance appeared before her. Different each time her mind seemed to blink.

Her eyes shot open, the crisp satin sheets under her fake. The friendly ghost from the cave followed her here. It whispered, A little over a month has passed since the first day of torture No, Maeve was in her mind again, fake. Not real, this was not real. "Kana."

Gavriel ran a gentle hand over her hair. "This is real."

Oh gods. You will swear the blood oath to Maeve. Her breathing was steady, she kept it steady. The golden male gently held her hand, "Maeve will hold the ceremony at dusk."

She nodded, pressing her lips together. Ignoring the pressure in her chest, the burning in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, glaring up to avoid the tears from spilling. She was already weak, a month. She had only lasted a month.

Gavriel whispered, "She has all of us go through that test before taking the oath." He was pale as he thought back to those dark times. "Lorcan, pretty young at the time, lasted a week. Vaughn lasted around five days. And I– I lasted about six days."

Her throat itched as she said, "Don't think back to that pain because of me."

Gavriel smiled softly, he shook his head. "Kana, you are the strongest Full-Blooded female in existence right now. You are anything but weak."

"How–"

"When you are around people you trust," He whispered, before dipping his head slightly. "Your eyes give away what you're thinking and feeling."