Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
No … none of that made sense.
Constantine cursed under his breath. “Quickly to a knee.”
Kerrigan glanced over at him in confusion. They’d reached the nearest bridge that led across the Liber River. A man was being carried on a litter with long poles extending from each end and held on the shoulders of multiple men. The person atop the spread of pillows lounged back in a toga made of gold spun silk. The material draped across his muscular figure, revealing toned thighs and biceps. He wore a circlet of gold vines atop his brow. His expression was bored, barely even surveying the commoners so far beneath him.
Then, his eyes found hers. So blue that they might as well have been the ocean itself. She could feel the power in that gaze. The energy that crackled off of him like a thunderstorm.
She knew that face. She had seen that face in a vision once. A terrible fate that had nearly ruined her life.
Constantine gripped her arm and yanked her down. Her shoulder ached, and she groaned as she fell forward at his insistence.
“What are you doing?” he snarled. “I said, take a knee.”
“Who is that?” she whispered.
Constantine shuddered. “A Doma.”
Kerrigan’s head jerked back up. The man was still staring at her. And she realized then why so many said that she looked like a Doma. Now, she had a comparison of one. His skin was so fair that one could see the blood running beneath the surface. Her features were not quite a mirror, but close enough to be terrifying. They had different hair and eye color, and yet now that she knew he was a Doma, it was obvious why so many believed her to be one—she looked so much like him.
“Head down,” he growled. “Don’t you know who that is?”
“No.”
But she had a guess.
“Vulsan Andromadix, the leader of the army of He Who Reigns and the curator of this year’s gladiator tournament.”
She didn’t drop her head, even as her stomach plummeted. She knew why he was staring at her even if he was unaware. He had been looking for her since she was a baby. Had traveled to Alandria, intent on murdering her for her mere existence.
Vulsan was her mother’s husband.
And a Doma.
14
The Coliseum
Vulsan was a Doma.
Doma were gods.
Did that … make her mother a Doma?
Did that make Kerrigan a Doma?
All this time, she had thought it was a coincidence that she looked so much like them. Or that everyone had told her that she did. She had no Doma in her world. And there were plenty of people who looked like Kerrigan back home. Or at least, red hair and freckles weren’t that common, but it wasn’t extinct. Now, she knew it was more than that. In fact, it wasn’t that at all. It was who she was.
She had seen Vulsan and knew him for what he was, as others had known with her. But that didn’t make her a Doma. The looks could still be a coincidence.
She was just finding it harder to convince herself that was even an option.
It was possible that Vulsan had many wives. Perhaps their customs were so different from everyone else’s. After all, Tarcus had consulted his wife before considering purchasing Kerrigan. Perhaps this was a common practice. To have multiple wives and mistresses. Her mother might not even be a Doma.
Kerrigan might not be a Doma.
And yet … and yet …
She was a descendant of He Who Reigns. Somehow. In some way.
She had so many questions and no one to answer them. Part of her wanted to rush after Vulsan to demand answers. The other part of her knew that it was folly. This man—this god—would not greet her pleasantly. He’d wanted her dead since the moment he had known of her existence. Walking toward him now would only help him along faster. It was better to go unnoticed.
Kerrigan dropped her head, breaking the spell that had been cast between them. She didn’t know if it was enough.
“Forget about me. Forget about me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and terrified.
Her heart was thumping through her chest until she felt like she was going to hyperventilate. Vulsan wanted her dead. Why had she looked at him? Why had she let him get that close? What had she been thinking?
None of that was worth getting to her mom. Wherever she was in the city. Because she knew now that she had been right to come to Carithian. Her mother would be here. And somehow, Kerrigan would find her and get the answers she so desperately needed.
“What were you thinking?” Constantine demanded of her when he finally came to his feet.
She remained kneeling, closing her eyes to try to block out the questions cycling through her.
“Felicity!”
She was shaking. Gods, she was actually shaking. This wasn’t good.