Page 140 of Godbound
Kaelzar steps forward, kicks the splintered remains aside, and gives me a playful bow. “After you, my lady.”
I walk in, whip trailing behind me, leaving delicate trails of rot in my wake. Alistar’s eyes are the first to shift. Not to the rot, not to the shadows creeping in, but to me. And for a single, breathless beat, I see fear. Of me.
But the fear vanishes, smothered beneath that infuriating calm. His spine straightens, his chin lifts. The mask slides back into place, slick with entitlement.
He looks at me the way men like him always do. Like I’m temporary.
“What is the meaning of this?” Alistair demands, stepping forward with the effortless arrogance of a man who believes himself beyond consequence.
Mael looks almost exhilarated, watching me with the sharp interest of someone long weary of his own dull company and finally thrilled by what’s unfolding. He lifts his cup and takes an unhurried sip.
“You have my friend,” I address Mael, my voice cool and composed.
Alistair bristles. “If you believe you can barge into His Majesty’s estate and issue threats without consequence, you’re gravely mistaken.”
Mael idly swirls his wine. “Let’s be fair, Consul,” he says, voice silked with mockery. “As everyone here now knows, I did barge into her rooms first, and I went a bit beyond threats with our failed queen. I’d say she’s well within her rights to return the favor. Though one might argue,” he says smoothly, “that spitting into my mouth was payback enough.”
The room stills, and I see it for what it is. He’s effortlessly folding even that moment of humiliation into a performance. “Perhaps the decay at my doors was a touch excessive?” he continues, sipping as if this were a lazy afternoon chat. “They were made of fine wood, Ray. Guiltless, beautiful things. You might show a little mercy. Or is the rot eroding your control as much as they say?”
He’s clever. His words are charming enough to soften the insult just enough to pass as civility. And all of it calculated to make me look unhinged.
“Where is Peonica?” I growl.
Kaelzar’s shadows coil around the edges of the room.
Alistair scoffs and turns toward a large desk near the window. He picks something up, something small and leather-bound, and my heart sinks.
Peonica’s notebook.
“Full of surprises, that one,” Alistair says as he begins flipping through the pages.
I freeze. If I move, I’ll lunge. I’ll tear his smug face apart with my bare hands.
That notebook was her most guarded possession. I wasn’t even allowed to touch it without her hissing like an angry cat. And now his fingers are on it. Smearing filth across her words.
I tear my gaze away from Alistair and find Mael again. “Is she here?” I ask through clenched teeth. “You have no right to hold her.”
“She broke into my library,” Mael says. “A clear case of trespassing, wouldn’t you agree? I had every right. And I was generous. I didn’t keep her a moment longer than the interrogation required.”
Alistair waves the notebook carelessly, like he’s swatting a fly. “She’s exactly where cursed scum like her belongs.”
The world tilts as his words burrow through my thoughts.
Interrogation.
Cursed.
Eyes shift toward me. And if it weren’t for Kaelzar’s hand, reassuring, steadying, warm against my back, I might collapse.
“What did you do to her?” I whisper. Magic slips from my fingertips before I can stop it. Peonica was trying to help me, and I did nothing. Again. I failed her.
“You can’t,” Kaelzar hisses. “If your magic hurts someone now, you’ll lose everything.”
I know that. I know it. But my body doesn’t seem to care. My rage wants blood. I need to leave. Now. Before I decay this entire placedown.
“Did your shadows find her?” I ask Kaelzar.
He shakes his head, gaze grim. “She’s not here.”
