Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

ready to perform it. It matters not what we have to do, it is what we need to do and that is all I care about.

Looking down at Drucilla, I hold out my hand for her. She slips her palm in mine and I squeeze her fingers as we begin to walk toward the pole where Diaboli is tied. Wordlessly, the eight of us make our way toward the pole.

The wolves sit on their hindquarters, the dragon does as well. The bears are on all fours, ready for battle should they need to pounce. My eyes connect with the one that scarred my face. She dips her chin and I jerk mine toward her.

You were forgiven the moment it happened. I tell her.

I can hear her rumble, though she does not reply back to me. She is here, protecting me, protecting my family. She was forgiven, but now she is treasured. The bears are mine to rule, they are also mine to respect.

The now proclaimed goddess, Aeliana, stands beside Diaboli and I wonder if it is indeed true. Is she a goddess? I dare not question her, if she is one, I don’t think she would be too happy to hear me or anyone else doubt her declaration.

“What do we do?” I ask, turning to look at Aaric who seems to be preparing for what is to come next.

The Blood Eagle.

Aaric takes one of Diaboli’s arms. He jerks his chin toward Colt. “You hold this one,” he instructs, then shifts his gaze to Birdie. “You hold the other.”

“She will not be able to hold him on her own,” Colt states.

Aeliana laughs softly. “Diaboli is powerless in this position. She will, and if for some reason he gets a burst of strength, I am here to stop him.”

I’m still not sure that Aeliana is on our side. The gods are good, but they can be incredibly selfish and make decisions that are for them and not necessarily anyone else. However, if we can put a stop to Diaboli once, we can do it again.

Aaric holds an ax loosely in his hand. He turns, looking over his shoulder, his gaze flicking between Liv, Sybilla, and Drucilla.

“You three will have to do the ritual,” he announces.

Liv clears her throat. “Seriously, Aaric. Can’t you guys do it?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

Aaric shakes his head. “I think you women must do it. You are the prophecy, you have been brought here for us, to our world. Tiberius, Elias, and I will help.”

I know not what happens during the Blood Eagle, but I am imagining this is not anything pleasant. And judging by the way Liv is staring Aaric down, I am certain it’s not anything at all that I want Drucilla to participate in.

“It is time, the longer we wait, the more chance we have that he will awake and regain his strength,” Aeliana announces.

Aaric clears his throat and closes the distance to his wife as he extends the handle of the ax to her. “You can do this, Víf,” he says, keeping his voice low.

“I know,” she whispers.

I watch as she inhales a deep breath, then walks around the back of Diaboli and lifts the ax in the air before she slices down his back. He lets out a scream that rivals that of a child wailing for his mother.

“Sybilla, you need to split his ribs,” Liv instructs.

“What?” she breathes.

Liv nods her head, handing the ax to her. “Split his ribs, one by one,” Aaric instructs.

Sybilla presses her lips together and I stand, watching as she does just as she is told. Following Aaric’s instructions without fail, Diaboli screaming with each move that she makes. Then he stops.

“He is not dead yet,” Aeliana calls out. “We must wait until he wakes.”

“Why?” I ask.

“The ceremony cannot be completed properly if he is passed out. He must be alive and conscious. He must be alive as the final part of the ceremony is completed and he’s being sent to the Underworld to stay for eternity.”

It makes no sense to me. He must be bleeding out, but I watch his chest rise and fall, assuring me that he is indeed still alive.

“Dru, your turn,” Liv calls out.

I watch as my sweet mulier walks over to Diaboli, her body trembling with each step that she takes. She turns to Liv who murmurs something softly to her. Then she reaches inside of Diaboli’s body, past his broken ribs, and pulls his insides out, flipping them around to the other side of his body.

This move causes him to scream again.

“Tiberius, change places with Birdie, she is next,” Aaric instructs.

I don’t mind following his orders in this instance, though normally I would never follow another man’s order at all whatsoever.

Making my way over to the pole, I step up to Birdie. She looks down at the ground, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

This is not a moment for the lighthearted and I despise the fact that the women need to be part of it, instead of just being spectators. Though this is the way of the world and they need to be strong.

“Take his lungs from his body, Birdie. Place them on either side of his body like wings. Once this is done, he will be taken to the Underworld and we will be free of him and his manipulations and cruelty,” Aaric explains.

We all watch in silence as Birdie sucks in a deep breath and does just as she’s been told. Then we watch as Diaboli takes his last breath. Turning toward Aeliana, I open my mouth to ask her if it is done when I freeze.

She is surrounded by a golden glow, then Amare and Odium appear. Everyone else around me gasps, but I cannot.

I am frozen, staring at the goddess and god in awe.

Dipping my chin, I don’t bow completely. As the emperor, I do not bow to anyone, but I do show respect to the goddesses and gods, as they are and always will be above