Chapter 204
I wake up with my wrists and ankles bound to the frame of a gilded bed, the restraints biting into my skin as I instinctively pull against them. The room is dim, shadows dancing eerily across the walls. My head pounds, a dull ache radiating from the side where I was struck.
But none of that disorients me as much as the sight of Kota pacing at the foot of the bed, his steps erratic, his posture stiff. He looks unhinged—his body still marked with the brutal remnants of the Menagerie, fresh bruises blooming across his skin, his limp more pronounced.
His hair is unkempt, his face drawn with exhaustion and paranoia. Every few steps, he stops abruptly, his head jerking toward noises I can’t hear, as if the walls themselves whisper to him.
My pulse kicks into overdrive, but I keep my voice steady. "Let me go."
Kota lets out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Letting you go is the last thing I’ll do… even if it’s the last thing I ever do."
A fresh wave of unease rolls through me. "What the hell are you talking about?"
His pacing intensifies. He drags a hand through his hair, gripping it as if trying to physically keep himself together. When he finally turns to me, his eyes gleam with something volatile, something dangerous.
"It’s because of some twisted fate," he mutters. "You’re all I have left. My only hope."
I narrow my eyes. "Your hope of what?"
His temper snaps like a whip. "Survival, you dim bitch!" he roars. "Because of you, I’ve lost everything—my father is in chains, my brother’s an invalid, I am in hiding! There is no path to the throne for me anymore... unless I make one."
I thrash against the bonds. "Wake!" I scream, praying that somehow he’ll hear me.
Kota’s hand cracks across my face so fast I barely register it before the sting blooms across my cheek. My head whips to the side, my vision blurring.
"We’re not in the palace anymore," he hisses. "Even if we were, your precious savage wouldn’t be able to help you."
I glare up at him, my breathing ragged. "What did you do?"
Kota sneers. "My family collects many interesting things," he says, reaching for something beside him. "Things brimming with power… as I’m sure you’ve noticed."
He lifts a conch shell, its surface shimmering faintly. He brings it to his lips and blows.
The same eerie music from earlier flows through the room, but this time, it’s different—pitched lower, thrumming with something sickly and oppressive. It latches onto me instantly, a deep, dragging sensation pulling at my limbs, my thoughts. My eyelids grow heavy, my body sluggish, as if something is siphoning the strength from me.
I grit my teeth and force out, "Screw you."
Kota lowers the conch and smirks. "That would be the idea, yes." He steps closer, his voice dripping with triumph. "If I cannot be the Sunrise’s next Heir… my son will be."
I shake my head, fighting through the haze clouding my mind. "Then go find someone who wants something to do with you. Why are you still fixating on me?"
Kota lets out a hollow, ugly laugh. "Don’t flatter yourself. There’s no denying who you are after that display at the Pit. I know you’re the Twilight’s Heir."
A shiver slithers through me, but I mask it. "Fine. Sure. But how does that help you?"
Kota’s eyes gleam with something dark, something fanatical. "The Great Serpent is still rising. There will be war for this mortal world. My mother has seen it. I intend to be prepared."
"I still don’t see how you think the Eastern Twilight is going to do anything for you. We don’t have an army."
Kota stares at me, as if I’m the dumbest person he’s ever met. Then he sneers. "You truly know nothing of your own heritage, do you? How is it that you’ve lost so much of yourself, little one?"
A cold shudder settles into my bones. I don’t answer.
Kota leans over me, his breath warm against my ear. "The Twilight is where it all started," he whispers. "It’s where it will end. And I will be the one to control it."
Then he kisses me.
I buck and twist beneath him, panic surging through me as he pins me down. His hands roam, fingers pressing against my bare skin, his breath hot against my throat. My vision swims, my mind fogging as his weight settles over me.
Then I see it.
The glint of silver at his wrist.
The pendant.
I force my body to still, shoving down the panic clawing up my throat. I inhale sharply and begin to pull on Electra’s power, just a spark at a time, careful not to let Kota feel the shift. My left wrist tingles, then loosens slightly.
Kota is too preoccupied to notice. He is too caught up in himself, in his victory, in his belief that I am his to take. He kisses his way down my throat, his fingers tracing lower. My free hand slides down, slow, deliberate. I find his wrist. He has the pendant wrapped in a leather strap, attempting to protect himself from its power. But otherwise, it dangles free, an ornament, a taunt, a mistake.
He is just about to take my nipple into his mouth when I yank the pendant off its strap.
Kota tears back, his mouth open to scream obscenities at me.
I don’t let him.
Ignoring the heaviness in my palm, I shove the pendant into his gaping mouth.
The reaction is immediate.
A burst of lightning sears through the water as I wrench my remaining limbs free. Kota chokes and thrashes, his hands flying to his mouth, trying to claw the pendant out, but it’s too late. The stone spreads from his lips, racing up his jaw, his eyes widening in sheer terror.
I push him onto his back, climbing over him, pinning him down as his body seizes beneath me. He kicks and writhes, but the stone spreads quickly, devouring flesh and muscle in mere seconds. His muffled screams turn to garbled gasps, then silence.
I close my eyes and keep my hands clamped over his mouth, pressing down even as his struggling slows, then ceases altogether.
When I open my eyes, Prince Kota is gone.
In his place is a grotesque stone caricature of himself—his eyes forever wide with terror, arms flailing, hands frozen into desperate claws. His body remains twisted in a last, futile attempt to fight off his own fate.
He’s dead.
Or maybe he’s not.
Either way, he’s not a problem anymore.
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