Threaded, p.36
Threaded, page 36
They were tears of silenced anger and undiluted rage.
“You can change everything about what this kingdom has become. Show Onitan women that they can be—that they are—more than just property or priestesses. That we have power. We don’t worship a goddess because she’s weak, and I think it’s time this kingdom remembers that.”
Mariah forced back her sobs as she stood from her stool, moving to stand beside her friend. She held Ciana’s gaze for a moment longer, the faces of both women streaked with tears, before she opened her arms and pulled Ciana close, squeezing her beautiful friend tightly to her with all the force and pain and love and heartache she could muster.
“I am … so, so sorry. I know that doesn’t fix it—that nothing will ever heal those wounds—but—”
“I don’t want your sympathy.” Ciana pulled back from Mariah’s grip. “That’s not why I shared this. Plus, you’re the one who saved me, remember?”
Mariah choked out a sobbing laugh. “Yeah, but … I didn’t know I was saving you. Not until now.”
“It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know. What matters is that you did.” Ciana’s eyes darted past Mariah, and then she was grabbing Delaynie’s hand, pulling her in close to stand beside Mariah. The three women stood there for a moment, letting themselves process and feel and just be, as friends, as sisters who’d chosen and found each other.
And as Mariah’s emotions began to settle, her mind began to swirl, to run through everything that had happened that night, that week, all the way back to when she’d arrived at the palace.
“You can change everything about what this kingdom has become.”
“We don’t worship a goddess because she is weak.”
There was one very important, very public event fast approaching that served as a display of the Goddess’s magic. And Mariah knew, because Ryenne had told her as much, that the ceremony and the magic it produced had been weakening for centuries. Maybe that was due to Ryenne’s trade, or maybe it was due to the subliminal oppression which had been slowly taking place throughout the kingdom and unchecked for generations. Or, maybe it was a combination of both or something else entirely. But what Mariah did know was that if Ciana was right, if she now truly had the power to change this kingdom for the better, then that ceremony seemed like it would be the perfect place to start making some changes.
“I hear you, Ciana. I’ll stay—if not for me, then for you, and for every other woman in this kingdom who is trapped and suffering.” Mariah inhaled deeply, then looked both her friends in the eye as she let a slow, wicked smile spread across her lips.
“I was also just thinking. What better place to start a revolution—to remind the world of what the Goddess and the women of this land are capable of—then at the Winter Solstice?”
Ciana and Delaynie blinked at Mariah as they both processed her words. Finally, the answering grin that lit up Ciana’s brilliant face could only be described as feral.
“M, if you’re suggesting that we bring a little depravity to the palace, then I’m totally on board.”
CHAPTER 46
Andrian lay awake in his bed as he stared blankly at the ceiling above, his father’s words weaving a tapestry of hate through his thoughts.
He hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes, his mind flickering between the feeling of Mariah in his arms, a look of pure, unadulterated happiness on her face as they’d danced through the ballroom, and the rage in his father’s eyes as he’d issued the threat that had haunted Andrian for over twenty-one years. His feelings had always been a convoluted mess hidden behind a facade of ice, but now that crystalized front was failing him, and he was reeling.
He had to talk to Mariah. As the hours of darkness dwindled away and the early dawn rays filtered through his window, that was all he could focus on.
Andrian decided she had to know. Had to be aware of the danger she was in, the threat he’d brought to her simply because he hadn’t been strong enough to resist her and couldn’t seem to stay the fuck away.
Everything had gotten so fucking complicated, but he was tired of keeping this secret from her. She’d proven herself to be smart and strong and capable. She could handle this, and she would help him, and they would figure out a solution that saved both their asses.
Together.
What a foreign word. Andrian had never allowed himself to even contemplate the possibility of an “us” that actually included him. But with his clear declaration of loyalty to Mariah at the Porofirat, followed shortly by his father’s hateful words, he had no other choice but to run to her.
From the second she’d stepped out of that carriage, a part of him had known she would be both his damnation … and his salvation.
And if yesterday had made one thing glaringly, painfully obvious to him, it was that he no longer hated Mariah Salis.
If he was honest with himself, he knew he’d never truly hated her. The anger he’d directed towards her was always just the loathing he felt for himself. He was weak; that much he knew. But he also recognized his flaws were not her fault.
Andrian was tired of running from the way she made him feel. He was tired of lying to himself, refusing to acknowledge it was more than just lust and great sex between them; it had always been more. While he still couldn’t confess those feelings to her, maybe—just maybe—he could finally stop with all the lies that blanketed him heavier than the cursed shadows in his veins.
He tilted his head, noting the sunlight at his window had grown brighter. He knew the Armature—that she—would be heading down to the clearing to train soon.
Mariah had been confronted with a lot yesterday, and he knew her well enough to know she would want to blow off some steam. It presented him with the perfect opportunity to track her down and get her to listen, to finally make the confessions weighing heavily on his soul.
Filled with resolve, Andrian pushed back the covers of his bed. He dressed himself quickly before slipping from his room. His eyes darted once to the gilded double doors across the hallway before he began his walk to that clearing in the game park.
Mariah was ignoring him. Andrian was sure of it.
He’d never been a fan of the group style of training the others favored, preferring to work alone, as he did most things. Today, however, his determination to get close to her, to pull her away for just a minute, a second, had driven him towards the other Armature and the dark-haired female who laughed in their midst.
Quentin and Trefor stared at him with expressions of slight bewilderment, but Sebastian, Drystan, and Feran gave him one look and tossed him a sparring sword, seamlessly working him into their training circle.
Those three were always far too observant and empathetic for their own good. It was fucking annoying.
Normally, Mariah could be found in the center of the sparring, joking and fighting with her Armature as if she’d been born to it, almost more than they had.
In a way, he supposed she had.
Today, however, when she’d stepped into that clearing a few minutes after them, she’d taken only a look at the sparring circle, her green eyes flashing over him, through him, before she moved quickly to grab Matheo. She pulled him away from the others to work through a cardio circuit and archery training. Matheo looked ready to grumble, up until the moment he realized it would be just him with her, just him receiving the full focus of her attention …
Andrian knew it was natural, woven into their souls and stamped on the very fiber of their beings like the tattoos that Marked them on their chests, the draw to her and the desire to seek as much time with her they could get. But that knowledge didn’t stop him from grinding his teeth together angrily, his shadows curling at his feet, flooded by an urge to wipe the stupid, giddy grin from Matheo’s face.
They’d gone about their workout, and Andrian had done his best to distract himself with the clang of steel and the sweet satisfaction of knocking Quentin on his ass three times in the sparring circle. Now, with the training winding down, Mariah and Matheo finally rejoined them. She sat on the ground, sipping slowly from one of the water skins they hauled out with them from the kitchens every morning, the rest of her Armature lounging around her in a loose semi-circle. She was dressed in all black, as usual for their morning training, and there was a faint sheen of sweat visible on her olive skin even in the chill late autumn air, her near-black hair braided down her back.
She looked fucking delicious like this. Raw, savage, feral. All the things about her that had taken him so off-guard, had set his world spinning on its axis.
In a smooth motion, she set her water skin down on the ground beside her and stood, the eyes of all seven men tracking her every move.
She had them all wrapped around her fucking middle finger, and Enfara damn her, she knew it.
The pull towards her was magnetic, and the second she was standing Andrian felt his feet begin to move. He took a single step towards her, easing himself closer to the edge of the semi-circle, no longer content to stand in the fringes, when her clear, melodic voice rang out across the clearing.
“I want you all to know that I plan to complete the bond with Trefor tonight. We’ve already spoken, and he’s ready.”
There were sounds of clapping and congratulations as the other members of the Armature turned to Trefor, his already-red cheeks staining even more pink as he looked at his queen, happiness shining in his blue-green gaze.
For Andrian, however, everything in his world stood still as his ears rang, a tidal wave rising in his blood.
She’d trained with Matheo all morning.
Not with Trefor.
When had she had time to speak with him? How much time was she spending alone with each of his brothers? Time he was completely unaware of?
Somewhere, a distant, more rational part of his mind whispered to him that he had no right to be jealous, that this was the way of an Onitan Queen and her Armature. They belonged to her, after all. The quiet voice even whispered a reminder to him that he’d pushed her towards them with his words in the library.
She did not belong to him.
But the words of his father, of Lord Donnet, filtered unwanted into his head.
“Whore.”
“Slept her way through the entire town.”
“Are you prepared to share her?”
Andrian’s mind locked down on the last of those words, his fury seething to a boil.
No. Fuck that. There would be no sharing.
Fuck his role as an Armature. She was his.
And he would stake his claim.
Finally, while his brothers continued to pat Trefor on the back and ooze their words of congratulations, Andrian caught Mariah’s eye, her gaze surveying over him with an unreadable look. He let her read him, let all the dominance and rage and things he felt but wouldn’t, couldn’t, dwell on swirl through his own expression, loosening his shadows even more as they spilled into the air around his shoulders and twined further up his legs. They whipped and snapped like mini tornados, driven to madness by the chaos fueling his thoughts, spurred by the green-eyed she-devil standing before him.
With a deep inhale, he drew it all back into him, regaining his weak control. He pushed his shoulders back, rolling them once, before turning on his heel and stalking off into the deeper part of the woods, the parts that inched closer to the Attlehons, full of ancient secrets and empty of prying eyes.
The ruins were deep in the game park woods, likely some forgotten retreat of a long-passed queen. The structure was in a state of absolute decay, and the only sign it had once existed at all was the singular stone wall that still stood, vines and moss covering most of the gray surface.
Andrian walked right up to the wall, forcing his breath out through clenched teeth as his lungs heaved. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, every inch of his restraint melting away with each dragged inhale.
He froze as he heard soft steps behind him. It was the sound of someone who’d grown up in a forest, who knew how to move without so much as a whisper but wanted to be heard. He knew she’d been following him, of course, but hadn’t heard her steps until now. Until she’d wanted him to hear.
Witch.
And then … that voice.
“Andrian.” She practically whispered to him, the sound surprisingly gentle. As if he was some wild beast in need of taming.
Yeah. Fuck that.
He held himself still, letting her take her steps closer, drawing her in to him like a moth to a flame. Then, when she was but a few feet away, he whirled, his shadows lashing out and wrapping themselves around her hands, her waist, her ankles, rooting her to the ground. As he finally let his eyes drop to hers, meeting the forest green gaze slowly filling with anger and a hint of confusion, a flood of questions, statements, and confessions went rushing into his head.
But he only asked one.
“Why?”
It was a simple question, but was also the only one that truly mattered to him.
Why?
Why Trefor?
Why had she been Chosen as the next queen?
Why had he been Marked and Selected?
Why couldn’t she have been Royal?
Why was it that everything he wanted most in this life had to be so fucking rotted around the edges?
“Why what?” Her response was cold, the anger in her eyes now a simmering vat of green and gold and silver burning up at him.
Good. He would gladly take the heat of her wrath if it meant guaranteeing himself five minutes alone with her.
Not that he would let her know that, though. Not yet.
Andrian tilted his head slightly and stalked a step closer to her, watching her skin alight with the glow of her magic as her anger ran wild around her. The feeling of her silver-gold threads pushing into the air, twining up and out towards him, touching the slight wisps of his shadows he always kept loose around his shoulders had his blood instantly heating. It felt like someone was running a fingertip between his shoulder-blades, along his spine, scratching the places he could never quite reach. His cock twitched in response, his teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw. He tilted his head at her and loosened the damper on his power just a little more, his shadows pressed harder against the light of her magic.
He had so many different ways he could answer her, but in that moment, he chose to go with the one that might actually succeed in opening the door for her to hear what he desperately needed to say.
The conflagration in her eyes began to soften to a mere candle, her magic also relaxed as it began to gleefully wind itself around his own. He took that as his sign; either she would answer him now, or she never would.
“Why did you run away from me at the ball last night?”
She blinked, her full attention fixated on him, the light of her magic pulsing stronger as it seeped into the brilliance of her irises. “Is that what you’re so upset about?”
“No. Far from it. But I need to know the answer.” He held her gaze, as wariness flickered over her expression. “Tell me where you went, and I’ll tell you why I’m truly upset.” His shadows squeezed her wrists, waist, and ankles harder at the word. She bared her teeth at him in response, just enough to crinkle the smoothness of her delicate, straight nose.
They stared at each other for several heartbeats, locked in a battle of wills. Finally, she broke first.
“Fine. If you’re so determined.” She paused, suddenly filled with a strange hesitation. “Donnet’s words … they got to me. I could … could hear what they were whispering about me. About you. About us. Dancing there, together. And I … I couldn’t do it. I needed out, needed some space. So, I found some.” Her gaze hardened once again as it clashed back with Andrian’s. He knew his expression was slightly stunned, but he could hardly focus on controlling it; he was just glad she was speaking. “How nice of you to come check on me, by the way.”
He knew she was trying to bait him. And if he was being honest, he would admit he almost fell for it. On any other day, he would’ve given in, played along with her little game of cat and mouse she appeared to love so much. He knew she wanted to pretend to be the alpha with him, the one in charge, all up until the moment she was caught and pinned in a corner, eyes wide and filled with lust.
Not today, though.
More of his magic seeped out from the darkness in his soul as he stalked closer to where he kept her rooted to the ground. It wasn’t until he was standing over her, the sweet smell of her sweat drifting up to meet him, that he spoke.
“Yes, my apologies for that. I would’ve run after you, like a good little Armature, if only I hadn’t been dealing with my father threatening your life because I had chosen you, and only you, before the entire continent. So please, Your Majesty, forgive me for the oversight. I’ll try to be better next time.”
Her jaw went slack, her eyes wide as they stared up at him.
A sick, twisted part of him was instantly aroused by her look of vulnerable confusion. She had never looked so … open before.
“Your father … threatened? Me?”
Andrian narrowed his gaze but loosened his hold on her, ever so slightly. “It wasn’t the first time, either, princess. He threatened you the day I was Marked, the same day you were born into the world with your single thread of magic. He told me that if I ever let myself get Selected, he would make sure you never sat the throne. And now that I’ve proven myself too weak for even that, he has renewed his threat, except now it’s that if I ever complete the bond with you, he’ll not only end your life, but make me serve as your executioner.”
He knew his voice had slipped into a gray-toned monotony; it was the only way he could force those words past his lips. But while he spoke, he’d taken a step closer to her, so he now stood close enough to her to feel her go utterly still. Even her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes shone with a mix of anger, frustration, and a new emotion that bothered him just as much as it had the first time he’d seen it in the library.
