From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 60

Chapter 60

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We’re almost to where I expect to meet the other Purebloods when a lump obstructs our path. The first sign that it’s not just a pile of trash is Elara’s horrified scream. Upon closer inspection, I see it’s not trash–it’s a young girl. A very dead girl.

“Don’t look.”

I try to block her view with my arm. Her small hands claw into my forearm and push it away. I snort as I let her soak in the horror before us. A

this. This girl didn’t die of natural causes.

quick scan of the body confirms what I already suspected: this isn’t the first or the last corpse I’ll find like

“Let’s go.”

I tug her away from the scene.

“No.” She stops cold. “We can’t just leave her there.”

“We can, and we will.”

“Do you have no scruples at all?”

I arch a brow, not sure if she can see me.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No, you don’t have to–I can imagine the answer,” she snaps. “I don’t care what you do. I won’t leave her body here like garbage

I glance at the body, which, from the looks of it, has probably been lying here for a day. Clearly, she hasn’t looked very closely.

“Technically it’s a decomposing body. We could say-

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“-It’s trash.”

I don’t know how long it’s been since the last time I was slapped. Probably decades. And here I am, being slapped by a small, weak, and clearly insane human. Despite the time that may have passed, the sensation of a slap is always the same. My skin burns where her hand struck hard, and it seems the blow made me bite my own fang.

“You slapped me,” I state the obvious.

“I warned you not to finish that sentence.

I take a step forward, quickly catch Elara’s neck, and apply just enough pressure to make the muscles in her throat tense under my touch. I can feel her heartbeat beneath my hand, and her gaze, though I know she’s afraid, doesn’t show weakness.

“Maybe I haven’t warned you enough about what I can do to you, Elara.” I savor her name. “I suggest you start walking unless you want to join the corpse on the ground.”

And possibly this wouldn’t have as much to do with my actions. That girl was killed by one of my own, and they’re likely not far, waiting for their next victim. I notice the exact moment she yields because she pulls her body away from mine. She gives the corpse one last glance and starts walking.

I pass her easily, and within minutes we’re inside the building where they’re already waiting for me. I leave her with Walter, Aeron’s favorite feeder. I can feel her gaze on the back of my neck, and before I disappear completely into the grand entrance hall and enter the improvised meeting room, I give her one last look. Her eyes are filled with hate. Just as they should be. That’s what exists between us. Raw, visceral hate.

I don’t have to close the door myself–someone else does. I look at the faces around the table. Among them are Aeron and Ciro, representing their surnames and two of the original families. The rest are familiar but hold less power. They’re second–class Purebloods, offshoots of our families.

I take my seat at the head of the table while the rest fix their eyes on me in silence, Only Aeron dares to break it.

“There have been more uprisings,” he informs. “Labor is scarce, more and more are risking crossing the Twisted Forest looking for the Diluted.”

There are still humans desperate enough to work for us,” adds another.

“And let’s not forget this isn’t the first time labor has been scarce. The Diluted multiply quickly–it’s only a matter of time before things return to normal.”

“But we don’t, Cassian,” Ciro snaps. “We are doomed to extinction.”

“Speaking of that..” I drum my fingers on the table, knowing my silence and gestures unsettle those present. “You must stop your attempts to create

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Chapter 60

a Pureblood.”

“You’re asking us to accept our fate,” Ciro grumbles again.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“It’s incredible that I’m the one saying this, but you cannot continue doing what you’re doing. It’s monstroushchair Con

Images of the creations brought into this world flood my mind, along with the memory of how I had to kill each of those small, deformed, disease- ridden bodies myself. After the second great massacre, which reduced the number of Pureblood women to zero, we’ve found no way for more of us to be born. Meanwhile, the Diluted reproduces far too easily, putting us at a clear disadvantage. Experiments have been conducted with other species with DNA similar to ours. It’s been tried with human women, who in the best case gave birth to another damn Diluted, and in the worst, died. We are doomed.

“I’m almost certain these last experiments will succeed,” Aeron says.

to life”

“I said no,” I declare. “In fact, I want you to destroy every trace. I’m tired of being the one who cleans up the signs of the monsters you bring

Ciro rises, dragging his chair loudly and leaving the room with a slam. I suppose he’s deeply invested in all this. A part of him still hopes we’ll become what we once were: a united front, impenetrable. The truth is, our weaknesses are more obvious by the day, and I know they expect me to be the strong, unshakable wall that saves them. The truth is, I won’t waste what’s left of my existence searching for solutions that don’t exist or fighting battles that will never be won. I’m not a savior. I was born to be what I am–a selfish being.

“You ask too much,” another protested.

“You can’t be serious, Cassian,” Aeron tries to reason. “Don’t you see that without those experiments there’s no hope left?”

“I don’t know who told you you were allowed to have hope,” I reply. “Just try not to die and stop creating abominations.”

I know the last word hurts him. Many carried his DNA, and he had to watch me massacre them without any mercy. Who knows what they could have become had I let them live? Needless to say, I never offered my genetics for anything like that. I won’t donate my seed for such a thing. I don’t even care if we go extinct as a species. There comes a point when existence becomes too monotonous, boring–it’s almost like being dead already.

The discussion continues for a while, and when I finally put an end to it, I know no one is pleased with my decree. I don’t know if any of them will dare defy me and continue with it, but they know my wrath would likely be worse. We move on to discuss strategies and mechanisms for resolving disputes with the Diluted. Apparently, they’ve attempted to burn down some Red Auctions–unsuccessfully, for now.

When the meeting ends, I’m the first to rise and leave. I expect to see Elara with that frail human, Walter. Instead, I find her grinning from ear to ear at Ciro, and I don’t know why, but that stirs something abrasive inside me. I try to shake it off, for it’s childish and pointless.

As if my presence were something Elara couldn’t easily ignore, her gaze rises to meet mine, and whatever she sees in my eyes makes her leave. Ciro glances back and approaches me. He wears a foolish grin I don’t like. He passes by without stopping but does speak, sure I’ll hear him.

“You still owe me a feeder,” he says. “And Elara is the first one I’d steal if I had the chance, so maybe you should take better care of her.”

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