48. Reign
I sit on Lukene’s bed, the soft fabric comforting against my skin, while Lilyana and Kylo engage in quiet conversation nearby. Using a drying cloth, I towel off my hair, relishing the memory of my long, hot shower—a much-needed respite after the chaos of the past days. When I first arrived in Lukene’s room, exhaustion had overtaken me, and I collapsed until Lilyana came in to wake me.
Lilyana leaves Kylo’s side, picks up a brush, and walks over to me, her expression gentle. “Let me brush your hair for you,” she offers, though it feels more like a request than a command.
“You are a princess… You have no business brushing a prisoner’s hair. I should be brushing yours,” I reply, shame lacing my words. “It’s fine, I can manage.” I extend my hand toward Lilyana for the brush, but she merely shakes her head.
Her mouth gapes open, brows raised, eyes wide with disbelief. “Reign, if that’s what you think of me, then you don’t know me at all.” She tilts her head to the side. “Where you are from and where you have been makes no difference to me. I see who you are, and I love every piece of you. I cherish the time we spend together. If I ever had a sister, I would hope she was exactly like you.”
“Vanna is your sister?—”
“She hardly counts,” she retorts, her voice laced with disdain. “Vanna thrives on power, control, and instilling fear in others—none of which I care about. She doesn’t care about family.” The conviction in her voice resonates deeply within me.
With a playful smile, she continues, “Since you brought up the fact that I am a princess, I command you to turn around and let me brush your hair.”
A smile slips free from my lips, but I do as she commands. As Lilyana begins to brush my hair, her movements gentle and soothing. Then she braids it expertly. “There! It’s perfect,” she exclaims, stepping back to admire her handiwork.
“Thank you, truly,” I respond, warmth swelling in my chest.
“Reign, you don’t need to thank me for doing your hair. That is what friends are for.” I notice Kylo hasn’t taken his eyes off Lilyana. His expression is one of quiet admiration, and it’s endearing to witness.
“Kylo, how long do you think it will be until Luke and James are here?” I ask, standing to stretch with a yawn.
“Aw, are you worried about him, Reign?” he teases, a playful grin spreading across his face.
“Never!” I chuckle, but my laughter is short lived when there is a knock on the door. Lilyana stands immediately and looks at Kylo, both wearing worried looks.
Kylo answers the door to reveal Raymon, Vanna’s personal guard. “The King and heir to the throne are requesting the prisoner come talk to them.”
“She will be right there. I will personally bring her,” Kylo asserts, attempting to close the door, but Raymon thrusts his foot in the doorway, halting the movement. My heart races, dread coursing through my veins.
“No, I was commanded to escort her. She comes with me.” Kylo turns to look at me, frustration and concern etched across his handsome face. He closes his eyes for a moment, as if weighing every possible scenario.
“Come, Reign. I will walk you with Raymon to the throne room.” Kylo extends his hand toward me, but Lilyana steps forward, her expression fierce.
“Absolutely not!” Kylo snaps, trying to halt Lilyana from coming. “Lilyana, I?—”
“Kylo, I am coming. Nothing you can say will make me stay. I have more sway with Vanna than you do.” After a moment of deliberation, Kylo nods subtly. We exit the room and follow Raymon down the dimly lit corridors.
When we arrive at the throne room, the atmosphere feels heavy with tension. The King and Vanna sit upon the grand dais, the absence of the Queen palpable. I approach the dais and stand before it, while Raymon and Kylo take their places to the side. Lilyana walks up to Vanna’s throne, her posture regal.
“Why are you back? I thought you were to wed Prince Elliot or assassinate him? Unless you have the answers we are looking for?” Vanna’s voice drips with disdain, her gaze cold.
Swallowing hard, I answer, “Prince Elliot discussed some things with Prince Lukene. He has demands of his own for the cure.”
“So, he rejected you,” Vanna scoffs, her tone almost gleeful. “Should have figured a Drifter couldn’t win over a handsome prince like Elliot. He is hard to please.” Jealousy laces her words, and I can feel the weight of her animosity.
“Actually, he said he was smitten with me,” I counter, my voice steady despite the tension in the air.
“Therefore, you weren’t good enough, as I said.” Vanna rolls her eyes, then turns to the King. “Father, what was the punishment? Death?”
“No!” Lilyana cries, dropping to her knees beside Vanna and grabbing at her skirt. Vanna reaches to stroke her face. Her eyes go blank, like giant voids of nothing.
Kylo rushes to the dais, gripping Lilyana’s arm and pulling her away from Vanna’s touch. “I am sorry, Princess Vanna. I will take her to her room for you.” Vanna’s face shows pure shock and disbelief briefly before she narrows her eyes toward them, and I am not sure which one she is looking at. Lilyana digs her feet in the stone, halting their movement.
“I am not leaving,” Lilyana snaps defiantly.
“Very well. Stay, sister,” Vanna concedes, turning her gaze back to their father. “What shall the punishment be?”
“The Hollows or death? We will give you the choice, prisoner,” the king replies.
My throat burns as bile rises, and my heart races, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. The answer is simple, crystal clear. “Death,” I say, because I refuse to return to the Hollows.
“Reign!” Kylo yells, his voice rings out as a warning. He shakes his head at me, while Lilyana has fresh tears running down her cheeks.
“Death is too easy, prisoner. If you hate the Hollows so much, let’s give you a taste of it here and see how motivated we can make you. You still might be of use yet, but first you will learn that failure is never an option.” She smiles cruelly.
“Raymon!” Vanna calls out, looking at her henchman.
“Yes, Princess.” He bows slightly, his brown eyes are so dark they look black, like a demon. The torch’s light reflects like the surroundings of the hells on his shaved head.
“Take the prisoner to the dungeon. Give her a few lashes of the whip and get a few guards together. Let them have some fun with her.”
My legs begin to shake, but my voice never wavers as I say, “I will not beg. I will not cry. I will not yield. So do your worst… because you will not break me!” I notice Kylo’s eyes pleading with me to shut my mouth.
Vanna laughs menacingly. “We will see about that.” She looks at Raymon, nodding in my direction, and he strides toward me.
“Vanna, this is barbaric!” Lilyana screams.
Kylo grabs Raymon’s arm. “If you touch her, you already know what will happen.” Raymon snatches his arm back.
“I am not afraid of the prince.” He smiles, then walks over to me.
“If any of you try to interfere in the kingdom’s work, Elm will also suffer. Maybe we should send him back to the Hollows. What do you think father?” She turns to him, straightening his crown for him, slightly brushing his cheek.
“Yes, he should go back to the Hollows if anyone interferes. Or we could just execute him.”
“No! I will go. I won’t fight it. I will take my punishment.” I harden my heart, pushing my fear aside. I have been through six years of hell in the Hollows. I can survive whatever they do to me until Prince Lukene finds me.
Raymon grips my arm as he starts to pull me along.
“Wait!” Vanna’s voice cuts through the air, halting us. We turn back to face her. “Whip her here. Kylo and Lilyana, go grab a healer so she is all healed up for the men in the dungeon.”
Kylo stands frozen, his expression a storm of emotions. I sense his conflict, but I urge him silently to go. He grasps Lilyana’s hand, pulling her out of the room.
“Turn around and bare your back,” the king says after Vanna tucks his hair behind his ear.
I comply, slowly unbuttoning my tunic. As I remove it, I hold it to my chest to cover myself, feeling Raymon press his hand flat against my back, rubbing over my scars. The sensation sends nervous jolts down my spine as I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s enjoying this.
He takes a few steps back, and I hear the familiar sound of a whip being pulled back. I suck in a deep, shaky breath and hold it, bracing for the first blow.
Slash.
Pain, red hot and searing, slices through my back. Biting my bottom lip to hold in a scream, I begin to taste my own blood. Balling my fists that are holding my shirt, I try to steady my legs. I will not beg. I will not cry. I will not yield. I will not break. I chant this mantra in my mind as the lashes continue.
By the eighth blow, I am spent. The pain is blinding, overwhelming, and I find myself on my hands and knees, unable to comprehend how I even fell. The metallic tang of blood hangs in the air, mixing with the sweat trickling down my brow.
Sounds begin to return to me, and I realize I haven’t been hearing my surroundings. I hear Lilyana’s muffled cries, then see footsteps approaching.
Dola drops down beside me, her face a mask of concern. “Oh, child.” She shakes her head. “So, this is the path we take.” She swipes some of my blood from the ground, mixing it in a chalice. Then she pulls out a dagger and slices her palm, allowing her blood to drip into it. Handing it to me, I down the entire concoction without hesitation, feeling its potency swirl within me.
“Take her to the dungeons,” Vanna snaps.
“Father! If you do this, I will never forgive you! Never… What would mother think?” Lilyana screams, her voice echoing in the grand throne room.
Raymon bends down and yanks me up by my arms, and I bite back a scream as my back feels like the wounds are pulling open with the movement.
“Halt!” the king demands, his voice booming. “My youngest daughter has a point. The prisoner seems to have learned her lesson. Take her to her room. Blood wielder… heal her completely.”
Without waiting another second, Kylo rushes over to me. He rips his shirt off, draping it over my chest, and scoops me off my feet, carrying me out of the throne room.
“Reign, I am so sorry. If I did anything, Vanna would have hurt Lilyana,” he says, his voice laced with guilt.
Kylo’s movements send jarring pain through my back, and I clench my jaw tightly, grinding my teeth against the agony. I catch a glimpse of Dola and Lilyana following swiftly behind us, their expressions filled with concern.
“Kylo, take me to my room,” I plead, desperation creeping into my voice.
“But Luk?—”
“My room, Kylo…” I beg, my heart pounding.
We finally reach my room, and he sets me down gently. I limp to the chair, still clutching Kylo’s shirt to my chest. He examines my back, horror etched across his features.
“Gods and goddesses, Reign. I am so sorry.” His voice trembles, mirroring the shaking of his hands.
“Do you want to make it up to me?” I ask, looking him in the eye, searching for reassurance.
“What can I do, Reign? Just tell me and it’s done.” His eyes reflect unrelenting guilt.
“Do not mention this to Luke.” I lock eyes with him, seeing the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. “In fact, none of you mention this to him.”
Dola fills a cup with water, adding an array of vials, her movements swift and deliberate. She cuts her hand, allowing more blood than last time to drip into the concoction. She swipes some of my blood, adding it to the mix.
“Lilyana,” Dola waves her over. “Give me your hand.” They share a strange look before Lilyana relents, placing her hand in Dola’s grasp. Dola slices it, letting Lilyana’s blood mingle with ours in the cup. Noticing my questioning gaze, she explains, “She… has uh… has plant magic. It is said that since they can revive plants that there may be healing properties, so I figured it’s worth a shot.” She stirs my blood into the mixture with careful precision.
Once she finishes, she hands the cup to me. The liquid is a deep, rich red, thick and foreboding. My stomach churns at the sight. I fear I might vomit before I even drink it. I suck in a deep breath, which instantly sends a jolt of pain through my back, but I down the concoction in one go. Each gulp tastes metallic and thick, like cold honey sliding down my throat.
“Lilyana, help her bathe and dress before the prince gets here,” Kylo instructs, his tone firm yet gentle.
With those words, I snap my head toward him, alarmed. His eyes are filled with so many emotions, swirling like a storm. I know it must be hard for him to conceal this, but he is doing it for me, and it means the world to have friends like him and Lilyana.
Lilyana helps me stand and walks me into the washroom. She strips me of my clothes, guiding me into the tub. The warmth envelops me as she gently washes my back. Suddenly, I realize I feel no pain at all. The relief is astonishing, almost surreal.
“See? You’re already healing,” she says, a bright smile lighting up her face, but I can’t shake the sense of disbelief.
We return to the room, and Dola is gone, but Kylo stands by the window, his brown hair tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it nervously. He’s wearing a new shirt, the fabric clinging to his form.
“I think… I think I’d like to sleep for now, if that’s okay,” I say to no one in particular, my eyelids growing heavy.
“Of course… Let’s get you to Luke’s room so he doesn’t suspect anything.”
“Wait! Elm… What about Elm? What if they hurt him?” Panic strikes me at the thought.
“I will go check on him. I’m sure he’s fine. Kylo will take you to Luke’s room. Sleep. I will be back later.” With her last kind words, Lilyana spins around and exits, her brown hair flowing gracefully behind her.
Once we’re in Lukene’s room, Kylo walks over to the bed, pulling back the blanket for me. I slip in, grateful for the warmth. He tucks the blanket up to my chin and then turns to stoke the fire, bringing it to life with a crackle.
“Reign, I am so sorry. If there was any other way?—”
“Kylo, it’s not your fault. You love her. I get it. I would have done the same for Luke.”
“So, you are finally ready to admit you love him?” He grins, running a hand through his already messy hair.
I smile slightly and nod, feeling the warmth of the admission spread through me. Startled, I jump when the door swings open and Elm rushes in.
“Gods and goddesses! Reign, Lilyana told me what happened. Are you okay?”
He darts to the bed, arms outstretched as if he’s going to hug me, but halts. “I’m okay, Elm. I promise. The blood wielder healed me.” He bends down and wraps his arms around me tightly. Too tightly. I can feel him trembling beneath my arms.
He releases me, braiding his fingers together and kissing them. I return the gesture, feeling a sense of comfort. He turns to Kylo, his eyes serious. “Can I have a few minutes with her?”
“Sure, I’ll be right outside.” Kylo exits the room, leaving me with Elm.
“Reign, we need to kill her… We need to.”
“Absolutely not. You’re just on the brink of finding your husband in a few days, and I have… Well, I don’t know what I have, but I’m figuring it out.” I reach out and grasp his hand, pulling him to sit on the bed. “We have a chance here, Elm. A real chance to be free. Let’s take it. Promise me, Elm. Promise to live life to the fullest. Make each sunrise have a purpose and each sunset filled with gratitude.”
He stares into my eyes, his crystal blue eyes revealing a whirlwind of emotion. He sighs deeply but nods his head. “Are you really okay?”
“I am fine, Elm. I promise.” I lean back against the pillow, closing my eyes. “Just stay with me until I fall asleep.”
“Of course.” I hear the chair scrape against the floor as he pulls it closer to the bed. I feel him take my hand, and that’s the last thing I remember before the darkness envelops me.