BOUND (#1, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 63

The moment my foot crossed the threshold of the temple I knew I'd made a grave mistake. A mistake that could cost the lives of myself, my sisters and parents, and every single person connected to the Wychthorns.

I hadn't gone to the woods today—not this morning, nor this evening. I hadn't found time. And stupidly, stupidly, letting the dark power unleash itself in my bedroom wasn't enough. I hadn't freed its fire, its might.

I'd come to the temple as a child, nine years old and already strange. Curiosity had drawn me up the worn stone steps toward the large open archway, Hazus's yawning mouth beckoning me inside his belly, and I'd felt a sensation, almost as if the temple inhaled a breath and expelled it. In the stale rank currents of air, power whispered over my flesh, enticing and intoxicating as if it had sung to me, wanting me to drink my fill of the darkness that strummed through the shadowed temple.

As I'd lingered at the entranceway, my foot hovering over the threshold, the creature had stirred, a slithering of dry scales coiling around my bones, and I'd heard it for the very first time, clearly as if it had been standing right beside me, hissing into my ear. But it was in my mind its rasping voice had spoken. "Hello, tiny little thing... "

Terrified, I'd spun away and fled.

Now, years later, I entered Hazus and Skalki's temple.

The creature was curious and thrummed with excitement. There was too much pain, too much blood and suffering and death residing within these stone walls.

All I wanted to do was spin around and run. Run far, far away.

But I couldn't.

The Houses were split and arranged to face one another to allow a wide gap between them so the Horned Gods performing the blessing could stride through and take their places on the dais.

The gloom was held back by the skittish flames of wildfyre burning in sconces along the wall. A row of pillars braced the vaulted ceiling and slender arched entryways broke up the outer walls. Though fresh air could filter in, the scent of rot stung my nostrils. However, it also seduced my senses and the thing inside me purred.

I followed Graysen, with Caidan striding right behind me, and took my place amongst the Crowthers. Not in the front row, but where Graysen gestured with a flick of his fingers, the second. The Crowthers had chosen to situate themselves near the end position of our society with a slim opening in the wall directly behind us. They should have been ranked up further in the line of Houses, but as usual, chose to keep themselves apart. I gripped my adamere bracelet behind my back, the beads warm against my palm, ensuring I didn't make eye contact with Graysen's aunt and have that blinding fury engulf me. Instead, it was Ferne who stood in front of me.

Sickly-looking thorned vines tangled around the pillars and crept across the ceiling. The insides of the temple, its pillars and walls, were carved into with the varying shape of the Horned Gods. Fascination and distress warred within me at confronting such terrifying beauty. Writhing beasts with claws and fangs, scaled or leathery creatures. Beautiful men and women with forked tongues or a crown of horns. Indistinguishable shapes of elemental beings.