Eona - Alison Goodman [199]
The blood energy lifted Ido’s head and chest from the platform and held him upright. He swayed, the struggle against the compulsion rippling through our link.
“I see that Lady Eona has restored you completely, Lord Ido.” Sethon reached over and drew his thumb across the thin nose and smooth modeling of cheekbone and jaw. The Dragoneye’s nostrils flared at his touch, but he could not pull away. Sethon closed his fist. “I am glad you are back to your former self. We can start again.” The sudden crack of bone against bone jerked Ido’s head to one side.
Sethon grabbed his hair and pulled his head upright again. “Is that fear in your eyes, Lord Ido?”
“It is disgust,” Ido said.
Sethon laughed. “Brave words.” He motioned to the two hunters. “If Lord Ido moves, send him back to the shadow world.” The two men bowed in compliance.
I felt a rise of savage hope—Sethon was not so sure he could hold us both in his power.
“Come, Lady Eona,” he said. “You can watch one of your lovers die.”
He yanked me to my feet and pulled me off the dais, steering me toward Kygo. We stopped in front of Ryko, still bent double and panting.
“What is wrong with him?” Sethon said.
I pushed all the hate I held for him into my silence. I was not going to offer Sethon anything, let alone information about my power.
Sethon turned to Yuso. “What do you know of this?”
Yuso bowed. “When Lady Eona compels Lord Ido, the islander can feel it. Even the most intimate of energies. I believe it goes the opposite way, too.”
“Really?” Sethon smiled at me. “We will test it later.” He shoved me to my knees a few lengths from Kygo and called over one of the hunters. “Watch over Lady Eona.”
Although I registered the hunter’s hot hand on the back of my neck, all of my being was focused on Kygo—and his on me. Sweat dripped from his forehead and temples, and every line of his face was tight with fear, but I saw the fierce hope in his eyes, and I gave a tiny nod. I will try, I will try, I told him with my heart.
And then Sethon stepped between us. Kygo met his scrutiny with a steady gaze.
“So, nephew, it comes to this,” Sethon said. He bent and stroked the pearl with a thick forefinger, his triumph releasing in a long breath.
“The throne and the land is my right,” Kygo said evenly, although he tilted his chin away from his uncle’s caressing hand.
“Your right?” Sethon shook his head. “I should have had the throne long ago instead of your feeble father.”
“My father nurtured this land,” Kygo said. “You have already torn it apart for your own glory.”
“The same could be said for you and your attempts on my throne.” Sethon glanced at the physician waiting nearby. “Is everything prepared? I want this to be quick. Twelve stitches, in no more than twelve breaths. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The man’s grip on the needle and gold thread shook as if he had palsy. “But it is in the throat, Your Majesty. It will be painful and if you move, I may not—”
“I will not move,” Sethon snapped. “Wait on the dais for me.”
The physician bowed and retreated to the small stage.
Sethon motioned to the soldier behind Kygo. “Brace his head.”
I felt my whole body clench. The man—an older soldier—cupped Kygo’s chin and forehead and pulled his head back. Kygo tensed as Sethon raised Kinra’s sword.
“Naiso,” he breathed.
I shuffled forward on my knees, but felt the hunter’s warning hand on my shoulder.
Kygo’s voice cracked. “Look after the land.”
I nodded. His face blurred through my tears.
“Keep him still,” Sethon ordered the man holding Kygo’s head. “I do not want to damage the pearl.”
The soldier pulled Kygo back more firmly against his chest. “Forgive me, prince,” he whispered.
Kygo paled. “You are killing your king,” he said.
Sethon rested the tip of Kinra’s sword at the edge of the pearl. The steel would finally have what it craved.
“Eona.” Kygo looked past the blade to find me. “It was never just the power. You know that, don’t you?”
Before