All the Stars and Teeth (All the Stars and Teeth Duology) by Adalyn Grace Read Free Book Online

succeeded with the first half of this performance. I picked the right prisoner, and now it’s time to prove mastery over the physical side of my magic.
    “What’s your name?” I draw my dagger from its sheath on my thigh and use it to cut a handful of the man’s hair.
    His answer comes in a voice so hoarse he has to cough to get it out. “Aran.”
    “Aran,” I echo, “I have looked into your soul, and I have seen not only its corruption, but the pleasure you feel from the chaos and pain you’ve caused. You have no remorse for the crimes that have led you here, and I’ve found your soul too far gone to be repaired.”
    Chills roll through my spine when he tips his head back and smiles. I try not to wonder who he killed, or if his family is watching from the crowd. As the future ruler of this kingdom, I cannot pity that family, and they know it. Aran certainly didn’t pity the families of his victims.
    Silence builds as I steady my nervous breaths, strike a flint,and let the flames of the fire pit flare between us. “Do you have any last words?”
    Aran spits at my feet, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I wrap the sheared hair around one of the teeth in my pile and skim my nail across it. His jaw twitches as he instinctively runs his tongue along the top of his teeth, and I know the magic’s working when I see the very moment fear settles into his bones.
    “All right, then.” I hold the tooth above the fire. “Let’s begin.”
    I toss the tooth into the flames and the man seizes violently, spitting up a puddle of blood. In the middle of that blood is a tooth that I crouch to pick up, my body pulsing as the magic blazes within me. I sink into the power.
    This physical side of my magic is based on equivalent exchange. If I want to hurt someone’s bones, I need to offer a bone first—any bone, but soul bound by part of the person who I want to use my magic on. Tonight, I use Aran’s hair. For everything that’s taken, an equal payment must be given, which is why no one will die until I use their blood.
    I could end him slowly, if I wanted to. I could break bone after bone, or drain his blood until he’s nothing but a sack of flesh.
    But I get no pleasure in these deaths. It’s my duty as a Montara to use my magic, or the beast within me will get stronger and try to take control. And so Father and I choose one prisoner a year each—the worst of the worst—to help contain our magic.
    I make their deaths quick and as painless as I can; but in order to do so I need several ounces of their blood, which is where the teeth come in. Though I could use anything to get the blood—an arm, a leg, an eye—making someone lose a few teeth is the most humane way I know to get the amount I need.
    As I work, I know without a doubt that no one will be able to question my skill. I’m in full control of the beast and its magic that rips through my veins. Aran’s blood flows steadily from his mouth as I offer the fire another tooth, and his eyes bulge with fear.
    Confident, I peer sideways at the faces of my people and stand tall, wanting them to see me. To see their heir to the throne; their princess, who has spent the entirety of her life mastering this magic not for herself, but for them.
    But as my focus centers on the crowd, they don’t watch me with the pride or awe I expect. Horror plagues their faces.
    I catch sight of a man covering his daughter’s eyes, face twisted in shock. The replica of Cato’s knife trembles in her hands.
    And then I see Aunt Kalea, her lips curled with disgust for a magic she’s never wanted. In my imagination, I see her eyes flickering colors, and have to still my trembling hands before anyone can notice.
    I’m doing everything that I am meant to do to fulfill my duty, and yet there’s no respect or love in the eyes of Visidia. There’s only fear and revulsion.
    My hands hesitate over the fire as the confidence I built like armor around me shatters. Everything I’ve done has been for