The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

but I’d been in bad situations before with Duke Teerman and
Lord Mazeen. Like in the carriage with Lord Chaney, who
had been bordering on bloodlust, I had to stay calm. I
couldn’t cave to panic. If I did, I would lose myself.
Like I’d lost myself at the Chambers of Nyktos.
No. I hadn’t lost myself when I killed those people. I’d
still been there. I just hadn’t…I hadn’t cared to hold back, to
curtail whatever power had come alive inside me. I didn’t
even feel guilt now. I didn’t think I’d feel remorse later,
either.
My legs and back stung from the wounds those blades
had left behind as I looked at where my bonds connected
with the wall. No ring held the chain in place. It wasn’t just
fused to the wall, it was a part of it—a growth.
What in the hell kind of crypt was this?
I couldn’t break stone, but bone…bone and roots were
fragile in comparison. Carefully, I twisted my wrist to create
tension that didn’t press against my skin. I gripped the other
length of bone and root with my other hand—
“I wouldn’t do that.”
My head snapped in the direction of the male voice. It
came from the shadows beyond the lit pillars.
“Those aren’t normal bones you’re handling,” the male
voice continued. “They’re the bones of the ancients.”
My lip curled as I immediately loosened my grip.
A deep chuckle rose from the shadows, and I stilled
once more. That laugh…it sounded a little familiar. So did
the voice.
“And because they’re bones of the deities, they carry
Primal magic—the eather—within them,” he added. “Do you
know what that means, Penellaphe? Those bones are
unbreakable, imbued by another who carries the blood of
the gods within them.” The voice drew closer, and I tensed.
“It was a rather archaic technique crafted by the gods
themselves, designed to immobilize those who had become
too dangerous—too much of a threat. They say it was