From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49

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If I already felt eyes on me before, they intensify during our walk to Naja’s large hut. I try not to pay attention and focus on the camp’s atmosphere. There’s a festive smell in the air: more bonfires than before, more decorations on the doors, strange makeup on faces. Darkness greets me when Evanora pushes aside the curtain of bones and beads at Naja’s hut. Before entering, out of the corner of my eye, I see Eleazar’s golden hair.

I take a step forward, entering the hut, where no sound seems to penetrate and the smell of incense is nearly suffocating. I walk blindly, trying to follow the trail of Evanora’s silver head until we’re back in the same place as the day before, though with some changes. Part of the space has been cleared to make room for a drawing in the center, traced with white chalk. Where the lines intersect, there are candles or stones. Most surprising of all is that part of the ceiling seems to have disappeared to let moonlight shine directly onto the surface.

“Great, you’re here,” Naja sing–songs as soon as she sees us. “We better get started right away. Elara, step into the center of the drawing.”

Her hand is already halfway to grabbing my wrist. I move quickly, stepping out of her reach and looking at her with a frown.

“First explain to me what exactly you’re going to do to me.”

Her tongue slips between her teeth as she emits a small hiss.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she says, interpreting my words as a sign of distrust. “We’ll recite the proper words and break the curse. There’s nothing to worry about.”

The truth is, I have a lot to worry about–but I don’t know that yet.

I obey and stand in the center of the drawing, the moon bathing my entire body in that whitish light. My skin looks even paler, almost sickly. In fact, I think it’s the exact skin tone of someone on the brink of death.

“You don’t need to worry, the moon reveals our true form,” Naja explains. “The curse upon you is strong and, over time, deadly. Your body is fighting it, and your health is declining. That’s why you’re pale.”

“Am I going to die?” I ask, serious.

“Not if we can help it.”

I glance at Evanora, who remains silent beside Naja, hands clasped in front of her lap. I do my best to keep my nerves at bay, though it doesn’t help when all the candles suddenly light up and a soft breeze brushes my skin. The stones on the ground seem to shift, seeking their proper alignment, orienting toward an exact point.

I freeze when I see the dagger Naja is holding, which she draws across her arm, opening a wound that begins to bleed. I recoil, shocked. Then Evanora imitates her. Blood drips quickly from both of their hands, staining the floor.

“Close your eyes, Elara.”

It’s difficult, but I obey and close my eyes. I clench my fists at my sides and wait in silence.

The voices of the two women reach my ears, chanting in a strange language. They sound mesmerizing, and the sound of their voices gradually lulls me. A pleasant sensation spreads through my entire body; the blood in my veins flows calmly, gliding like a serene river. My mind slips into a trance, their voices muffled. Then, that peaceful sensation shatters like a thousand pieces of glass. The blood in my veins, once a calm river, now feels like a sea of vipers zigzagging violently and

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Chapter 49

frenetically inside me.

The ground beneath my feet disappears, and the sensation forces me to open my eyes to understand what’s happening. Everything around me is a blinding white explosion of light, and I can’t see anything, but one thing is certain–my feet are no longer touching the ground.

Blood roars in my veins, pounds in my ears, and a pressure builds in my head until it’s unbearable. Then my entire body is wracked by unbearable pain. I can’t believe the scream tearing from my throat is mine–but it is. A brutal, raw scream like that of a wild animal.

“Hold on, Elara! You have to fight it!”

What am I supposed to fight? What should I do? The pain grows worse with every second. I feel a fireball in my stomach that slowly rises through my esophagus and burns me completely. My back twists at unnatural angles and I think I hear the sound of my bones snapping one by one.

“No one is allowed to kill you but me, Elara, so fight.”

Cassian’s voice in my head makes me see a small, burning orange flame amid all the blinding white light. I close my eyes, imagining myself rising above that flame, so small in comparison to my body. I draw closer to it, feel its heat burning through me. I clench my teeth, hear them grinding with the effort of holding in the pain. The mental image in my head tries to fade, but I don’t let it. I have the flame in front of me–I reach out and trap it between my hands. Then I extinguish it.

The pain slowly disappears, its claws releasing me and retreating completely. I collapse onto the cold floor. I begin to see colors and shapes again, finally leaving the blinding light behind. I get on all fours, feeling something churning in my stomach. I barely have time to compose myself before opening my mouth and vomiting a black, viscous liquid–the most disgusting thing that has ever come out of me.

Tears stream down my face with each new retch. The blackish liquid stains my dress and covers much of the floor. Long minutes pass in this slow, painful death until it finally stops. My stomach settles, and I can breathe normally again.

“Elara?”

Evanora’s hand firmly grips my elbow, helping me back to my feet. My hands are sticky from the disgusting liquid that coats everything. I wrinkle my nose.

“You did well,” she encourages.

Did I? Did I actually do anything?

I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. I look around and realize the stones have been shattered, and the drawing is barely visible under all that black liquid.

“Was that always inside me?”

“Since you were cursed, yes,” Naja explains. “It’s probably been feeding on you, growing bigger. That’s why you were weak.”

“So, does that mean this curse is something recent? I wasn’t born cursed?”

“If you had been born cursed, you would’ve died shortly after birth. That“-she points to the black liquid-“is too much for an adult body, unbearable for a newborn. So no, Elara, you weren’t born cursed.”

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