“You’ll see.”
36
ELLIE
Aria’s hand is a shackle on my shoulder, steering me through the throng.
The crowd parts for us like the sea, their masked faces turning to watch me pass. Their reverence is a physical weight, pressing in on me, stealing the air from my lungs. The silk of my dress whispers against my skin, a shroud I’m being forced to wear. She leads me to the front of the ballroom, up three shallow steps onto a dais, and my eyes land on the reason we’re all here.
An altar.
It’s carved from the same pale marble as the floor, but it’s stained. Dark, rusty-brown streaks mar its surface, trailing into a deep groove that channels the liquid into a basin at the foot of the dais. Chains, thick and dark with old blood, hang from iron posts at its corners. My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic bird beating against a cage of bone.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Aria’s voice is a symphony of pride beside me. I notice, almost belatedly, that it’shervoice, not the mechanical drawl of the mask’s interface.
Did she remove the mask? Why?
She releases my shoulder, her fingers trailing down my spine like a spider. “All this time, you thought I was training you to take my place. To lead.” She laughs, and it’s a soft, chilling sound that causes my pulse to misfire. “Oh, my sweet, naïve girl. You were never meant to be The Divine One. You were meant to be the vessel. The final sacrifice.”
The world tilts on its axis. The music, the chatter, the scent of lilies—it all fades into a dull, roaring hum in my ears.
Sacrifice?
The word doesn’t make sense. It’s a stone in my mouth, a concept I can’t swallow, lighting every thought on fire and turning it to ash.
“No,” I breathe, shaking my head. “No, I won’t.”
Aria’s smile is all teeth. “You will.”
As if on cue, the crowd before me parts. Not with respect, but with a synchronized, unnerving precision. And through the gap they create, three figures are dragged forward. They’re thrown to their knees at the base of the dais, and a scream tears from my throat, raw and ragged.
It’s them. Beckett, Zane, Dominic.
They’re a ruin of the men I love. Dominic’s face is a bloody mess, one eye bright red. It’ll no doubt swell shut in a few hours. Zane’s shirt is shredded, his torso a canvas of purple and black bruises, angry red cuts weeping sluggishly. And Beckett… oh, gods, Beckett. He’s slumped, his consciousness clearly fading, a deep gash on his temple matting his hair. They’re alive, but only just. Their eyes find mine, and the devastation I see there is a physical blow.
“I see you still have hope,” Aria says, her voice dripping with condescension. She circles me slowly, like a shark. “You think your two lost boys are coming to save the day. Ryker and Landon.” She pauses, savoring the way my body stiffens. “I haveto confess, Ellie, that little charade of yours was…entertaining. But faking a death requires a body. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? That we wouldn’t discover your uncle’s little hotel?”
My blood turns to ice. “No…”
“Oh, yes,” she purrs, stopping in front of me. Her eyes gleam with a manic light. “Ryker was so defiant. He fought so hard. It took three of my men to hold him down while we…convinced him to talk.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He screamed your name, you know. Right up until the end. We carved it into his chest so he’d never forget.”
A sob rips through me, hot and violent. I can see it. I can see it in my mind’s eye, his strong body broken, his voice crying out for me. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Aria’s smile widens. “And Landon. Poor, clever Landon. He thought he could outsmart me. We didn’t have to break his body to break his spirit. We just had to show him what was left of Ryker. He shattered. We didn’t even have to lay a hand on him after that. He just…stopped. He was still here, somewhere in the bowels of this house. A beautiful, mindless thing. We used him for…entertainment. Until he took his own life, of course.”
Tears stream down my face, hot and endless. It can’t be true. It can’t. Ryker’s raspy chuckle that isn’t quite a laugh, Landon’s steadfast strength—they can’t be gone.
But the detail in her voice, the cold certainty in her eyes, it’s a poison seeping into my soul, planting seeds of doubt that bloom into pure, unadulterated horror.
“Now,” Aria says, her voice returning to its normal, commanding tone. “The same thing will happen to these three. Slowly. I’ll make them watch each other be broken piece by piece. Or”—she gestures to the altar—“you can do your duty. Youcan be the bridge that reunites our goddess with her people. You can save them.”
Save them. The words are a hook, and I’m a dying fish. I look at Beckett, at Zane, at Dominic. Their pain is my pain. Their potential end is my end. What choice do I have?
I already don't want to live knowing Landon and Ryker are gone. But if I can save the other three I love? I’ll do it in a heartbeat.
Please forgive me.
I love you all so much.