Chapter 58 Thrown Against the Rocks
THROWN AGAINST THE ROCKS
LUELLA
The netting was ripped away from Luella, and she twisted on the wooden deck of the ship, just in time to not choke on her own vomit as it rushed up her throat and spilled from her lips. It splashed on the wooden floor.
Caliban tsked. "Look at you. Really, Princess Luella.
I was so excited to see you here." He touched his heart. Her mind recalled how those same hands had touched Enora, then held her beneath the lake’s surface.
"And you dishonor me by nearly being sick all over my shoes.
" He hummed. "You know what they say about dogs.
The bitches are ungrateful to the hand that feeds them.
Not to worry. You will be well-trained in time—and eat out of my hand. "
He crouched before her. He wore sleek, dark trousers and a matching dark blouse, the top few buttons undone, revealing his pale, smooth chest. His green eyes flashed brighter—for just a moment.
His hand reached for her, faltered, then the shadows were back, and he gripped her neck, thumb pressing into the hollow of her throat.
Luella tried to turn her head away. He didn’t let her.
"Stop moving," he said. Shadows drifted over his neck, curling under the sleeve until they seeped beneath the cuff of the hand that held her throat.
Her eyes widened, heart stuttering, as the shadows dripped from his fingertips and ghosted over her neck. They were so cold, she felt like she could get frostbite from them.
The shadows curled around her cheeks, making her head still.
"There," he said, achingly gentle as he sat back. His fingertips grazed over the shadows, drifting down to the neckline of her blouse.
The rain threatened to drown her, slipping over her cold skin.
Oh—she had forgotten. Her blouse was cut.
Caliban’s shadowed eyes fell to her chest. He reached for the torn front of her blouse, his knuckles brushing the sides of her breasts. She shuddered in revulsion.
"Did anyone touch you?" he asked suddenly. It took a moment for his words to register. She shook her head, confused. "I said"—the shadows tightened—"did anyone touch you here?"
She shook her head, then nodded. "I—no… y-yes."
"A simple answer, one your simple mind can understand," he prodded.
"Yes," she whispered brokenly. Her eyes traveled to Ambrose, who stood rigidly by Caliban’s back. His skin was dark, much darker than Caliban’s pale shade. His deep eyes found hers, and he sneered.
Caliban followed her stare. "Ambrose," he called without turning. Ambrose came to stand right by Luella’s head. "I told you not to harm her." Caliban finally turned to stare up at Ambrose. "And you did anyway."
Ambrose nodded.
Caliban continued, "You will be punished."
Ambrose nodded again, restrained.
Caliban turned to stare back down at Luella. "Get up. I won’t have my queen make her journey into her home crawling on her hands and knees."
She tried to push herself up, but it put too much of her weight on her wrist. She gave a strangled cry.
A cold hand gripped her forearm, yanking her to her feet. Her ankle screamed in pain, and she wavered, vision blurring as the rain fell.
She was going to pass out.
Caliban waved a hand, and a dark mass of shadows appeared, undulating on the main deck of the ship. These shadows were darker and thicker than what Ambrose had conjured, as if his had been a cheap mockery of Caliban’s.
She was tugged forward, hobbling and leaning into Caliban’s side against her will. His grip would leave bruises, but she was too bruised to care.
He stopped right before the shadows. It was dark. Boundless, without end. And so cold, she shivered in the rain. Hair matted to her cheeks, wings dripping and sodden.
She held her gown closed with a hand, her other captured by Caliban. He stared back at the Umbra, standing on the ship’s deck. They stood as one entity, awaiting orders.
In the distance, a dragon roared.
Luella breathed deeply as she felt the threads inside her roar in time with Vale’s dragon. She understood then, at that moment, they knew she had been taken.
Her head turned, staring after the onyx shadow swiftly approaching.
Words crackled in her mind. Luella—hold on—we’re coming.
Bastian? Luella tried to think back. She heard nothing in reply, as if the words fell in a cavern that stretched between them. Bastian? Please. Hurry!
Caliban spoke. "Fight hard, my Umbra."
She turned to stare at him. She couldn’t get over the way he looked—just as her visions. Except something about him was sharper now, harsher, as if in the centuries since, he’d been honed into something so deadly, it hurt to touch him, to be touched by him.
His lips quirked in a smile, an echo of the one he’d given Enora. He met Luella’s eyes. "Come."
Then he pulled her through the shadows.
It was worse than before. Everything spun. The world tipped upside down. Or maybe that was her.
Her stomach churned. Her legs gave out as the darkness finally gave way and her feet touched something cool—stone. Caliban let her arm go. She fell to her knees, barely catching herself. Her wrist throbbed like a hot poker had been shoved inside her flesh, her nerves twisted. She fell face down.
She was barely aware enough to see another male step after them through the shadowy portal.
Ambrose straightened his coat, head bowed.
Dazed, Luella watched as Caliban raised a hand to the other male, fingers almost adoring as they curled around his collar, before Caliban shoved his fist into Ambrose’s chest, just as she’d seen Ambrose do to the Umbra earlier.
The pain in her body was too much.
She fell into nothingness, thinking one thing only:
I should have thrown myself against the rocks when I had the chance.