It’s so unnatural on her face, like her lips don’t quite know what to do.
“Take her inside,” she commands the two brutes holding me.
They shove me through the doors into a grand, circular chamber. It’s a goddamnthroneroom, dominated by a massive chair carved from what looks like bone and polished obsidian.
Hysterical laughter bubbles in my throat.
The fucking bitch had a throne made for herself? I’m honestly not even surprised. That seems to be on brand for what I know of the egotistical, narcissistic asshole. I can practicallypicture her sitting on her throne, her chin hefted imperiously in the air, her mask in place as she reigns over her “inferiors.”
Aria’s goons drop me onto the marble floor, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. I push myself up onto my hands and knees, gasping, as Aria sweeps past me to ascend the dais to her throne.
She turns, and this time, the cordial mask she wears behind her actual mask doesn’t just slip. Itshatters.
The serene, benevolent leader is gone. In her place is a monster, her beautiful face contorted with a hatred so pure and visceral, it steals the air from my lungs. Her lips peel back from her teeth in a snarl.
“Oh, my dear, sweet Ellie,” she begins, her voice dripping with a venomous delight that makes my stomach churn. “Did you really think that I ever saw you as anything more than a disappointing reminder of a weakness I indulged in?” She takes a step down from the dais, her eyes burning into me.
“I never wanted you as an apprentice,” she hisses, advancing on me. “An apprentice implies a transfer of power, a legacy. No. I wanted apawn. A pretty, malleable little thing to dangle in front of the masses. And when your usefulness was at its absolute peak, I wanted a sacrifice. The ultimate offering to cement my power.”
She throws her arms wide, gesturing to the room, to the world beyond it. “This ismylegacy. I am the goddess here. I have supreme control. You were just the key to unlock the final door, and now that it’s open, you are utterly. Fucking. Useless.”
Her words are meant to break me, to shatter my spirit. But as she rants, her voice rising in egotistical fervor, my focus narrows. My mind goes blank of everything but the cold, sharp weight tucked into the bodice of my dress.
Zane’s gift.
A bedazzled dagger, deceptively beautiful, lethally sharp.
And hidden among all the tulle of this goddamn gaudy dress.
Aria didn’t think to check me for weapons. She didn’t believe sweet,innocentEllie would willingly use one against her. Against anyone.
She doesn’t know me at all.
Fuck.
Her.
My fingers, trembling slightly, inch up my side. The guards are watching Aria, their attention engrossed by their leader’s glorious tirade. I wonder if this is the first time they’ve seen her true face—all delicate features, tousled blonde hair, and piercing blue eyes capable of shredding your very soul to ribbons.
I feel the cool, smooth stones of the handle, the jagged edge of a rhinestone. My fingers close around the hilt.
With a sharp tug, I free it. The sound of the fabric ripping is lost in Aria’s monologue.
In one fluid motion, I surge to my feet and spin. The guard on my left is closest. I drive the dagger upward, aiming for the soft space beneath his ribs.
His eyes widen in shock, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he stumbles back, clutching his side.
Before the other can react, I pivot and lunge, slashing the blade in a vicious, upward arc. It sinks deep into his groin. He screams, a high, thin, reedy sound of agony as he collapses.
Aria’s rant cuts off. Her eyes, wide with disbelief and fury, lock onto me, then to the bloody dagger in my hand.
“You little bitch,” she whispers.
I don’t give her a chance to say more. I lunge at her, a raw, guttural scream tearing from my throat. We crash together, a tangle of limbs and fury.
She’s surprisingly strong, her nails raking down my arm, drawing blood. We stumble back toward her throne of bones, but I’m fueled by a rage hotter than any she could muster.
She manages to throw me off, and I land hard on the marble. She laughs, a harsh, ugly sound.