Page 3 of Incoronate
“It was only when I realized it was the Sang Noir keeping me trapped that I finally dropped it and was able to port myself out of there.” I lifted my gaze to Trace and then to Dominic, the bitter reality hollowing out my stomach. “But it was too late.Iwas too late.”
“What do you mean you were too late? What are you saying?” asked Trace as something in his expression faltered.
“She’s saying they anointed her as the Fourth Horseman,” answered Dominic without taking his eyes off me.
I wasn’t sure how, but somehow, Dominic always knew what I was saying or feeling even before I voiced it. I’d always assumed it was because of the bloodbond or the fact that he was a Revenant, but lately I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to it. Something much deeper than I’d ever bothered to allow myself to see.
My father’s words from my birthday visit with him in the Spirit Realm stumbled into my mind again.
‘You have loved them in many ways, and in many lifetimes, baby girl. The Timeline may have converged this time, but providence remains.’
I still wasn’t entirely sure what any of that meant, but I knew it was important.
“How do we even know the ritual worked?” asked Trace. “If you were able to port back, maybe they weren’t able to finish it,” he suggested, grasping onto any straw within his reach. Anything tonotmake this as hopeless and fucked as it really was.
“They finished it,” I said painfully, feeling it inside. Tears burned behind my lids as I tried to hold his gaze. “I’m pretty sure that’s what the voices were.The Horsemen. It was like I could hear them in my head, telling me to go after the baby. To end him. That it was what needed to be done. I couldn’t shut them off.”
A single tear streaked down my face as the memory of the screaming commands flared and echoed in my head, abrasive enough to make my vision blur. I swiped at my face, angry with myself and knowing that crying about it wasn’t going to change a damn thing.
“And now?” asked Dominic, his dark gaze taking me apart like a secret only he knew.
“Nothing. It’s just…quiet.”
“Somehow I doubt that’s a fucking good thing.” Trace looked over at Dominic as they did that silent-conversation-with-their-eyes thing again.
My stomach instantly soured. Because I wasn’t done.
Not even close.
“There’s something else. Something William said.”
Both of them looked back at me, their attention snapping to a point, like they already knew they weren’t going to like what came next. As much as I wanted to forget everything the Senior Magister had said, to shove it down and pretend it hadn’t lodged itself somewhere deep inside me, I knew they needed to know the truth too.
Or at least as much of it as I could piece together.
“I don’t remember everything perfectly,” I said, tracing the seam of my jeans with my thumb. “There’s still parts of it that don’t fully make sense to me, but right before they anointed me, William said something about a spell.” I looked up at them from under my lashes. “About how we’d all played right into his hands.”
A knowing look hardened Dominic’s expression, his jaw locking as though he already knew where I was going with this. “Go on.”
“He mentioned his High Casters working some kind of spell on us,” I continued, choosing each word carefully as unease crawled up my spine. “Something tied to the deadly sins.”
The list followed unbidden, lining up in my mind with uncomfortable clarity.
Pride. Greed. Lust. Envy. Gluttony. Wrath. Sloth.
“I think they’ve been…controlling us somehow,” I said, testing the words out on my own tongue. “Or at the very least, influencing us.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, where I shoved all the things I didn’t want to examine too closely, I’d known exactly what William had been implying. I just hadn’t been ready to say it out loud. To line it up in the light of day and admit how much of it fit. But I couldn’t hide from the truth anymore either.
“Everything that happened. Everything we—” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Hey, come on. We don’t know anything for sure,” said Trace as he shifted closer, his knee brushing up against mine as he reached out and touched my leg in a comforting gesture. “It’s probably bullshit. The Order loves getting inside people’s heads. They’ll use anything they have. Fear tactics. Psychological warfare. It doesn’t mean—”
“It’s not bullshit,” I said and then pulled away from his touch without thinking. “It’s not.”
The contact breaking felt louder than it should have.
Trace frowned, the crease between his brows deepening as he stared down at my leg as though I had kicked him, while Dominic went very still beside me, watching the interaction the way a hawk surveys its hunting grounds.
