Magnus leaned closer so he could whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her already flushed skin.
“Don’t worry, princess. It was the first and last.”
“Good.” Cleo let go of him and moved off the balcony, past Nic, so fast she stumbled on the hem of her red gown. The sound of the crowd’s cheers quickly became a distant echo in her ears.
311
Chapter 26
KING GAIUS
THE SANCTUARY
The dream finally came after far too many weeks of waiting. “You said I was immortal,” the king snarled when he sensed Melenia’s presence. He didn’t wait for her reply, he turned and stormed toward her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t lie.” He slapped her hard across her face, the sting of it more satisfying that he’d expected. Inflicting pain upon this beautiful golden creature gave him great pleasure.
She pressed her hand to her cheek, but her eyes did not fill with tears as so many others’ would. No weakness crossed her gaze as she steadily held his.
“I did not lie,” she repeated, enunciating every word. “And you will strike me again at your own peril, my king.”
There was an edge of caution in the statement, one only the most foolish would ignore.
He forced himself to calm down. “I was nearly crushed in the Temple of Cleiona during the quake. I tasted the bitterness of my own mortality.”
“But you’re not dead, are you?”
He hadn’t left the palace since that day. With the potential of rebel assassins lurking in every shadow, the threat of natural disasters striking at any given moment, he had become increasingly paranoid. He was far too close to achieving all he’d ever wanted to take any unnecessary risks.
After what had happened at the temple, his confidence had been shaken. He didn’t trust Melenia anymore. There had been a fleeting time when he considered her both an intellectual equal as well as an object of desire. When he believed she would become his next queen, to rule by his side for all eternity. A woman he might be capable of worshipping. A woman he might even be capable of loving.
No more.
Now all he wanted from her were answers.
“When,” he growled. “When do I get my hands on the treasure you’ve promised me for these many months?”
“When the road is complete.”
It was far too long to wait for any tangible proof of what she’d told him. His patience stretched thin and brittle. “How is Lucia integral to finding the Kindred? Will she sense its location with her magic? Does more blood need to be spilled to help her?”
“I already told you, my king. Blood will be spilled. Much of it. Blood is essential to our plan.”
“Tell me more. Tell me everything.”
The hint of a smile dared to curl up the corner of her mouth. “Oh, my king, you are not nearly ready to hear everything.”
“I am!” he insisted.
“Not yet. There are . . . sacrifices that must be made. Sacrifices I’m not convinced you’re prepared for.”
“What sacrifices?” He would risk anything, sacrifice anything to get what he wanted. “Tell me!”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I really don’t know why I bother with you. Perhaps it’s because you amuse me.”
He would be an amusement to no one. “You prophesized that I would rule the universe with the power of an immortal god.”