From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144

Elara

Sleep doesn’t hold me for long–I wake up before the sun has even risen. I light the candle beside my nightstand and try to entertain myself with a book for a while, but soon give up. I get up and go to the balcony. I step outside, and the cold air makes my skin bristle. I look over the vast gardens surrounding the villa, just as majestic as those at Cassian’s castle.

A noise catches my attention below. I narrow my eyes and distinguish the figure of an animal. I move a little closer until I see that it’s a bird. The creature is trying to flap its twisted wings in vain. There’s a small puddle of blood beneath it. I hesitate to pick it up, so I leave it on the ground while I watch it. As the minutes pass, the bird’s strength fades.

Surprisingly, I can feel deep in my bones the thin thread of life still keeping the creature breathing. It grows weaker and weaker, and without realizing it, I extend my hands and hold it between them. Something twisted and dark awakens inside me, urging me to squeeze that thread. I try to resist, my fingers tremble, the heat in my body rises sharply, and the pressure in my temples becomes unbearable. That’s when I stop resisting and let it take over.

The sensation is warm, even though it’s obvious that death is with us now. I close those invisible hands and squeeze the heat slowly until it turns cold. The flapping stops, and the small sounds of distress vanish. A cloud of gray smoke rises from it and enters my nostrils. I don’t need anyone to tell me I know I’ve just stolen another soul.

A few seconds of silence pass before I truly realize what I’ve done, and when I do, my horrified gaze flickers between my hands and the animal. The thought that I might not be able to control this new side of me overwhelms me. Bile rises in my throat, and I have to press the back of my hand against my mouth to avoid vomiting. The cold becomes secondary. My eyes can’t leave the small lifeless body

before me.

I wonder if I’m something worse than what I’ve spent all these years fearing. If I’m not so far from being a soulless monster like them.

Ireturn inside, one more stolen soul on my shoulders. I sit at the vanity and search my face for traces of the monster I feel like right now. I lift my upper lip, looking for fangs. They’re not there, just as I expected. My skin is slightly paler than usual, but if I press my palm against my chest, I can feel the steady beat of my heart. Still, I wonder if that twisted craving will eventually sink its claws into the organ and stop it completely.

I close my eyes. I think of what I told Cassian: I have to learn what I am and control it before this happens again and my impulses are the ones controlling me. I picture myself with that perpetual, inhuman beauty. I imagine my power coursing through my veins like a raging river.

“Come on….” I whisper.

For a long time, nothing happens. In fact, I’m about to open my eyes and give up. I’ve been an idiot to think I could do it. My veins don’t roar, don’t heat up, don’t fill with any mysterious power. No, they remain as always, carrying my blood to my heart–I don’t feel power.

I change focus. I concentrate on thoughts of anger, on images I wish I could forget. Then I feel a prick on my lip. The air gets trapped in my lungs for a long second while I process that maybe I did it. I open my eyes, afraid of disappointment–but no. When I see myself, a gasp of astonishment catches in my throat.

My fangs have sharpened. My skin has taken on a strange sheen that reminds me of poisonous animals luring prey with their bright colors, and my eyes have turned completely white. No iris, no pupils. I trace the small power–filled veins around them with trembling fingers. My fingers end in sharp nails that look more than ready to tear flesh down to the bone.

A small smile crosses my face, and a sense of victory settles in my stomach.

The doorknob rattles. Panic grips me–I’m going to get caught. It’s too late to run and hide. Clarissa is already opening the door and walking in with a smile on her lips. It doesn’t fade when she sees me, and I realize, looking at the mirror, that I’m back to my usual self.

“Well, I see you’re up early today.

Naida walks in behind her.

“I suppose I can tell you the good news.”

“What news?” I ask, still recovering from the little scare.

“The Lord has agreed to let us stay here with you”

“Really

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Chapter 144

“Yes.” She leans in, conspiratorially. “He doesn’t think we’ll be here much longer–any of us. That includes you. The Lord will get you back.”

I say nothing, though as they get me ready to go down for breakfast with Ciro, I can’t help but smile. I know this is a concession he made for me. He knows how much my handmaidens mean to me.

“Are you angry with him?”

“Him?” I raise an eyebrow.

“Cassian.”

“Why do you ask?”

“He was sure you’d blame him for everything that’s happened. You didn’t see it, but he came as much as Ciro allowed and did everything possible to bring you back.”

Honestly, there are gaps in my memory from that day, except for the harshest, cruellest parts that refuse to leave me. I know I lost control–1 probably would’ve killed us all. I can’t deny the bitter aftertaste of having lost my chance for revenge, but I trust I have it again. And next time, I’ll be a thousand times more cruel. I hope by then I’ve mastered my powers.

If I think about it, upon waking, what my body yearned for was to be with Cassian, to be near him. I think that’s why Ciro’s words hit me so hard. The cold water of betrayal soaked me when I found out he had been with another human and lied to me, while I was aching to be by his side. I remember Lilith told me we were destined for each other. I want to believe that’s why I reacted that way. This is something we’ll have to address later–I don’t want some so–called marked destiny to dictate my feelings.

“No, I’m not angry.” I finally answer.

At least I don’t think I am right now. There are more important things that require my full attention. Unconsciously. I bring my fingers to my lips and run them gently across, imagining phantom kisses.

“Oh, I see.” Clarissa tries to hide a smile while Naida finishes the final touches on my hair. “We’ll accompany you to the dining room.”

I rise from the stool and glance at my reflection. The whitish strands have been styled to hide beneath the rest of my black hair, Naida notices what I’m looking at and winks at me.

“This way.”

Clarissa leads the way as if she’s already very familiar with the place. I don’t stop to admire the decor–I already know it’ll match the owner’s style elegant and exquisite.

We arrive at a dining room with large windows, where Ciro is already seated at the head of the table. In one corner, there’s a cage where a small monkey clings to the bars and makes funny sounds. The room is filled with flowers, perfuming the air.

“Good morning. Elara. Did you sleep well?”

His smile is dazzling, as always. I see him swirl the deep red liquid in his glass. Dozens of plates of food surround him, all for me—he can’t eat any of it. Hesitantly, I sit to his right, and for a few seconds, I just stare at the food. I also glance at his cup full of blood, surprised once again that I don’t gag at the sight of it. Before, I would’ve squirmed. Now I feel a morbid fascination, even able to perceive the different notes that make up its scent in the air.

“Are you okay?”

I blink, snapping out of the trance.

“Yes, I’m fine.” I don’t even try to force a smile,

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