Page 178 of Scourged
No. She could. Mariah gritted her teeth.
And faltered when she found Delaynie looking at her with tears in her eyes, grief and pain written across her face.
“Mariah,” Delaynie whispered, reaching a hand for Mariah’s. Mariah let her take it, blinking once.
“I don’t need you to apologize to me. Especially not now. Okay?” More tears filled Delaynie’s eyes. “Yes, I lost my father. But I always knew that for you to ascend the throne, he would have to leave us. We came to terms with it long before we ever met you. And even then …” A sad smile played across Delaynie’s lips. “Even then, I could never blame you for this. He told me once that he was happy to see his kingdom being left in the hands of a queen who truly deserved it. And he asked me to always be there for you—to help. So, please. Do not apologize.” Delaynie’s stance shifted, her mask of composed grief faltering, revealing a fire burning beneath it.
“But you … Mariah, they have yourfamily. A family that is still very much with you, not one you’ve spent years knowing you would have to part from.Ishould be the one askingyouif there’s anything I can do.” Her gray eyes flashed, more fire peeking through. “If I could burn those lords alive myself, I would.”
Mariah was stunned, lips parting with her shock. Whenever she thought she knew Delaynie, had figured out her quiet friend who clothed herself in perfect facades and tailored dresses, she surprised Mariah. Would say something so painfully true that itfelt like a knife driven through Mariah’s chest, a jolt that would wake her from the depths of her anger and pain.
She remembered the name Quentin had called Delaynie no more than a week ago, when her court had gathered on her balcony over wine and companionship. Before she knew her family was taken, before she’d donned the crown of Xara. Before her world had descended into chaos.
Little wolf.
Despite the depthless chasm of her rage, a subtle smirk played its way across Mariah’s lips. Fitting. She hoped Delaynie let Quentin keep using it.
“I know you would, Delaynie. And trust me—I intend to burn them myself for what they’ve done. But I’m still going to apologize to you. And you don’t have to accept it, but let me say it, anyways.”
More blue flames flickered in Delaynie’s eyes before she nodded once, a slight dip of her head.
When she did, Mariah noticed something.
There was a delicate necklace around her friend’s throat. The chain was so thin that Mariah had never noticed it before, especially since her friend so often wore heavier jewelry that masked the simple adornment.
But today, Delaynie’s neck was bare, her collar exposed. Mariah’s gaze lingered on the simple necklace … and then narrowed on the small black stone resting in the hollow of Delaynie’s throat.
“Del,” Mariah whispered, alarm racing through her, magic flooding her limbs. “What is that necklace?”
Delaynie’s hands flew to her throat, her brows furrowing. “What, this little thing? It’s mysautoire. One of the lord’s wives—Lady Cordaro, I think—gave it to me at my firstdebutantewhen I was thirteen. It’s a traditional gift for a high-born orwealthy girl.” Delaynie’s voice faltered as Mariah’s expression fell, then twisted into something furious and a little sick.
Her magic writhed and thrashed in her gut, begging to be freed, to wrap around that delicate chain and rip it from her friend’s throat.
“Mariah,” Delaynie said slowly, still running her fingers along the necklace. “What’s wrong?”
Mariah took a slow, shaky step forward. “What is that stone in the center?”
“I don’t know.” Delaynie’s response was slow, hesitant. Her hands dropped from her neck. “It’s just what is in everysautoire. It’s always the same stone.”
“Ablack and goldstone.” Mariah’s words were a growl. Her bond with Andrian snapped taut, her sudden anger racing through the air between them. She was distantly aware of him pushing off the wall and striding across the Antechamber, Quentin on his heels.
Delaynie’s eyes were blown wide. “I don’t understand, M?—”
Mariah’s hand snapped out, her friend’s words halting in her throat. Faster than a viper, Mariah slid a finger under the delicate silver chain and yanked. With a silent pop, it broke against the back of Delaynie’s neck, masked by her friend’s sharp gasp of shock.
“Mariah! What are you doing?”
Mariah didn’t answer. She could only glare savagely at the necklace in her hand, at the black and gold stone shimmering back at her. It burned where it touched her skin, her magic hissing and recoiling through her veins.
This was the same stone that had cuffed her wrists when she’d been taken. The same stone used to sever a magic user from their gifts.
The same stone now wrapped around the wrists of her baby brother, if that messenger was to be believed.
“Do you know what this is?” Her voice was still and quiet, only a whisper. Andrian appeared by her side with a gentle brush of shadow down her arm and a rumble of fury from his bond. Quentin wasn’t far behind, but he moved around the side, standing between Mariah and Delaynie.
Delaynie blinked. “It’s just … thesautoirestone. Everydebutantegift has the same stone in it. It’s just tradition.”
“Tradition,” Mariah spat. She inhaled deeply, desperately trying to rein in her fury.