Page 103 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
“I tried to tell you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I tried to tell the guards, but they wouldn’t listen. They ignored me every day, until one day they didn’t ignore me anymore…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes hollow as her throat tightened with memories.
Clay’s jaw worked in controlled anger. “I will hold them accountable for their actions. No woman should be treated that way, regardless of her crimes.”
Camilla’s lips trembled, tears shimmering in her eyes before she angrily pushed them away. Elaina touched her shoulder gently as Camilla steadied herself, her gaze meeting mine with a dark resolve.
“What did you need to tell me?” I asked, dread curling in my stomach.
She looked right at me, blocking out the men in the room. “After you left,shecame to me. She told me everything, that it was all a lie. They forged the prophecy. She drove me out of my mind, knowing all along that I would never succeed in killing you. It was all a plan to get your blood.”
My skin turned cold, a chill crawling up my spine. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t.
“Who?”
Camilla picked at her fingernails, the thin skin fraying and starting to bleed. “Alina wanted me to marry Clay so badly, but the Gods wouldn’t answer her prayers. So, she… she found a way around it.”
“A loophole?” Clay’s voice was a dangerous growl, his body tense as he came to stand between Camilla and I.
“Shepromised Alina the power to make me pregnant if Alina sacrificed her mortal body.”
“Alina sacrificed herself?” Kent questioned, horror evident in his words.
I could barely hear him, though. I couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t true.
“Who, Camilla?”I screamed, shattering the tension in the room with my desperation.
Clay was at my side in an instant, a hand coming to my neck, concern etched on his face, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t focus on anything my Camilla.
Her voice trembled, her eyes darting to mine. “Pasnia. Alina sacrificed herself to let Pasnia take control of her body. The Goddess of Madness is here in the Mortal Realm.”
Pasnia. The Goddess who had been absent during every one of my visits to the Underworld. The Goddess who was apparently so ill she was close to death—and yet, somehow, she was here. In the Mortal Realm.
The wind slapped my face, cool and biting, as I sat on the steps at the back of the manor. I’d bolted outside without explanation, barely hearing the others as I left. Power had surged in meso suddenly that the ocean had risen in a towering wave before crashing back down with a thunderous roar. Now, I barely noticed my legs give way as I sank onto the stairs, struggling to breathe through the tempest in my chest.
The storm in my mind was louder than the crashing waves.
Clay’s presence reached me before I saw him, a steady warmth that seemed to anchor the chaos spiraling inside me. He draped a quilt around my shoulders and settled down beside me, close but not suffocating. He didn’t flinch when the ocean swelled and roared again, but his gaze lingered on me, steady and unreadable. His jaw was tight, and for a moment, I couldn’t tell if it was worry—or something else.
“You doing okay?” His voice was low, gentle, as though he was afraid a louder tone might shatter me.
I almost laughed, a bitter sound that never fully escaped my lips. Okay? Nothing about this was okay. Nothing had been okay since I’d ascended to the Council. “Do I have a choice?”
“With me, yes,” he said, his tone soft but resolute.
I turned to look at him, and the concern etched into his expression made my defenses waver. He meant it. If I wanted to fall apart right now, he’d let me. He’d hold me together, so I didn’t have to do it myself. But that wasn’t who we were—neither of us. We didn’t fall apart.
We endured. We fought. We led.
And I wasn’t about to start backing down now.
“So,” I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice. “Pasnia’s the one who’s looking for the Sword of Zion.”
Pasnia’s the reason that the town of innocents is dead. They were driven to madness by her magic.
Clay’s gaze shifted to the horizon, the endless rhythm of the waves reflected in his steady demeanor. He folded his hands together and nodded. “It would seem so. But something doesn’t add up. I’ve beenlooking into it, and according to everything we know, only the God bonded to the weapon can use it. Neither Hyrax nor Pasnia can harness the Sword’s power.”
The words echoed the suspicion gnawing at the edges of my mind. There was still something we were missing. If Pasnia couldn’t use the Sword, why go to such lengths to find it? Why risk everything for something that wouldn’t serve her purpose?
