The High Priestess smelled of incense and rotting roses.
Sera sat stiffly on the gilded chair in the solar, her damp hair braided tightly against her scalp, the high collar of her borrowed gown scratching at the fresh bruises on her neck. The fabric was suffocating, but necessary—Varian's marks from last night's...*encounter*...would raise too many questions. Across the room, the ancient priestess studied her with milky eyes that saw too much.
"So this is the Valtaris girl who tamed our emperor." The priestess—Elyanna—clicked her tongue. Her voice crackled like dry parchment. "Stand, child. Let me look at you properly."
Varian lounged against the fireplace mantle, his posture deceptively relaxed, but Sera saw the tension in the way his fingers flexed around his wine goblet. "Mind your tone, Elyanna. She's your empress now."
The priestess ignored him, her yellowed nails—unnaturally long and sharp—tapping against her thigh. "The northern lords grow restless, Your Majesty. They whisper that you've been...*distracted* since taking this bride." Her gaze slid to Sera. "I'm here to ensure the union is...proper."
A shiver crawled down Sera's spine.
"Stand," the priestess repeated.
Sera rose slowly, keeping her hands folded demurely over the cut on her palm—the one that still pulsed faintly blue when the light hit it just right. The wound from last night, when she'd bound herself to Varian's curse.
Elyanna circled her like a vulture. "You're thinner than I remember. Paler too." Her gnarled fingers suddenly gripped Sera's chin, forcing her head side to side. "The Valtaris bloodline was always strong. Your father had such *vibrant* energy when I last saw him." A pause. "Pity about the pyre."
Sera's nails bit into her palms.
The priestess's hands moved to her shoulders, then down her arms with clinical detachment—until she reached Sera's wrists. Without warning, those claw-like nails dug into her pulse points.
*Pain.*
Sera gasped as fire lanced up her arms.
"Interesting." Elyanna's milky eyes gleamed. "Your blood sings differently today than it did at your father's funeral."
Sera's breath caught. She'd been twelve when her father buried his brother, the priestess presiding over the rites. How could the woman possibly remember—
"Enough." Varian's goblet slammed onto the table. "Do your examination and be done."
Elyanna smiled, revealing pointed teeth. "Remove your gloves, my dear."
A trap. Sera's pulse roared in her ears. The cut on her palm—
The solar doors burst open.
Kaelan stood framed in the archway, his shoulder heavily bandaged, his face haggard. Blood seeped through the linen wrapping. "Your Majesty," he panted. "The western villages—they're burning again!"
Varian's gaze snapped to the priestess. "Your doing?"
Elyanna released Sera's wrist with a laugh. "The curse hungers, Emperor. It always does after...*interruptions*." Her knowing look at their clasped hands made Sera's skin crawl. "Feed it properly, or watch more than villages burn."
Varian grabbed his sword from the wall. "Sera stays here."
"Oh no." The priestess blocked his path. "Where you go, she goes now. That's how the bond works, isn't it?" Her wrinkled lips curled. "Unless you'd like me to explain to your court why—"
"Fine." Varian hauled Sera to her feet. "But if one hair on her head is harmed, I'll feed your beating heart to the demon myself."
As they rushed after Kaelan through the torch-lit corridors, Sera grabbed Varian's arm. "She knows about the curse."
His grip on her waist tightened. "Then we make sure she never speaks of it."
Kaelan glanced back at them, his gaze lingering on how Varian's hand spanned Sera's back. Something dark flashed in his eyes before he quickened his pace.
The stables were chaos—horses stamping, soldiers shouting. Varian didn't hesitate, hefting Sera onto his black warhorse before mounting behind her. His chest pressed against her back, his breath warm on her neck as he growled orders to the troops.
As they galloped through the gates, Sera twisted to see the priestess watching from the battlements, her skeletal hands folded in prayer—or perhaps a spell.
The western horizon glowed orange.
But as they neared the burning village, Sera realized something was wrong.
There were no screams.
No villagers fleeing.
Just fire.
And silence.
Kaelan reined in beside them, his bandage now completely soaked through. "This isn't rebellion," he whispered.
Varian's arms tightened around Sera as the first shadow moved in the smoke.
Not human.
Not anymore.