Exported [Book 3 in the Expiring Series]

46 Lae

Check out this beautiful artwork of Iris! You can find the artist on Instagram as @_bumble_art_ and @_light_anarchy_.

Iris~~

Odette's pale face and purple eyes greet me when my blindfold is removed.

"Hello, Iris," she purrs as I hear my name hissed in my head by a multitude of voices, and I know immediately that I'm in the Amoris's base. My Mark prickles, and my wrists are still handcuffed together. Two guards stand at my back.

Odette's black hair cascades around her face. She's dressed in purple, the color of royalty and the Amoris, wearing a flowing skirt that reaches the stone floor, a sleeveless cropped top, and bands of purple wrapped around her wrists and neck. She reminds me of a priestess or a Konkursi.

Odette steps back, letting me take in my surroundings. I'm in a temple carved from stone. It's terrifying in a way that's breathtaking. I don't think it's truly a temple but rather designed to give the impression of one. Great thick columns line the center of the room where I stand, and along the walls, torches burn.

There are no windows, and a slight chill fills the air. These silky pajamas do nothing, and I'm not sure why Odette would plan to wear anything that leaves her skin that open to the cold.

The voices still hiss in my head, and I grit my teeth as the burning in my arm grows. The Amoris don't know they're doing it—they only sense that something is wrong. Once they have grown used to my presence, the burning and hissing will stop, or vice versa.

Odette raises her hand to my face and runs the back of her hand over my cheek, her fingers brushing the cleft under my eye. "We're going to have so much fun together."

My stomach clenches. "Where's Bently?"

"In a cell next to yours. Not as comfortable as my chambers though."

I swallow down the bile that rises in my dry throat. It burns. "I'm only interested in one Preeminence."

She frowns. "He's terribly boring."

"We must have different definitions of boring, you psychotic—"

Odette's hand flies, her palm landing against my cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that for a moment rivals the burning in my arm. "Anastasie."

A young woman steps out from among the columns, the torches casting a glow on her brown skin. She's dressed identical to Odette except she wears shades of red. Her long dark hair sweeps over one shoulder.

"My Beta," Odette says.

"The rest of your Order?"

"My Order is comprised of lae." Three.

"It's not a true Order then."

Her hand wraps around my throat, but she doesn't choke me. The other brushes my hair out of my face. "Have you no regard for your safety?"