Page 41 of The Stolen Throne
Reven mutters a curse.
I guess it’s a lot.
Vos dips his chin, gaze serious. “I shouldn’t have to tell you those soldiers could only have found us because they knew where to search.”
He shoots me a significant glance. Vos is a trained fighter and was once Eidolon’s general. I trust his judgment. He doesn’t have to say the word out loud.
Traitor.
Someone had to have led those soldiers to the zariphate. Which means we have a spy among us feeding our enemy information. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
Reven drops his chin to his chest. “Keep an eye out, ear to the ground. Report anything suspicious.” He pauses. “Don’t tell the others.”
Vos’s jaw goes so hard I think it might break. “You think it’s one of us?” Given the blip of suspicion Reven had for Vos not all that long ago, I can see why this would be a sore point. “It could be a Wanderer who isn’t happy about the Vanished being here.”
I shake my head. “Wanderers don’t go against their zariph or zaripha. Especially this one.”
Reven holds up a hand. “A traitor only happens because they betray their own. Trust no one else with this for now.”
We nod. Vos heads for the door only to pause, then duck back inside. “Is he wrong?”
We both frown at him. “Wrong?” I ask.
“Is Cain wrong about anything he just said?” Vos is looking at me now, not Reven. “Reven is a Shadowraith barely in control of the evil he carries.”
The shadows punch out of the corners, and I jump. Even Vos eases back as a fist visibly presses Reven’s clothes outward from under his skin.
Goddess above. That’s worse than I thought.
Reven closes his eyes and swallows hard, his belly flattening back out after a second and the shadows receding. “I can’t be here.”
Then, in a wisp of smoky shadow, he’s gone.
I put my hands on my hips. “You said he was a wreck without me. Why make it worse?”
“He was. But you are acting queen now, up against a powerful enemy. Your choices need to be about more than you and Reven.”
I’m left with only Vos, who gives me a pitying look.
He shakes his head. “Getting Reven and Tabra back is Eidolon’s highest priority. You need allies, and the zariph is a powerful one. Cain is your friend and will treat you well. And keep you alive.”
“You think I should marry him?” I demand.
He doesn’t relent. “I think it makes him your best option.”
“No one decides my fate but me.”
I know I’m being stubborn. I know I’m facing impossible odds, but the thought of marrying a man I don’t love, even Cain… Especially Cain, because he deserves more.
I just can’t do it.
Vos picks at his cuticles. “A broken queen is as useless as a snowball in the seventh hell and just as damned.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I don’t have a choice here.
I bow my head, staring at the mats covering the floor. “You may go,” I say quietly.
If I’m queen, I get to give orders.
