Chapter 11
Sage
“T hat is the sweetest sound,” Von murmured, his eyes meeting mine. They were the color of lush, vibrant leaves and mossy ground. His eyes were a forest, one I could stay lost in for the rest of my life.
My breath caught in my throat. “What?”
He smiled. “My name on your lips.”
“Then I will say it over and over and over again until you are sick of it.”
“That is a day, my love, that will never come,” he vowed, and my heart nearly burst as his rapturous mouth met mine.
I sank into that moment of pure bliss, our bodies joined as one, as Von and I gave ourselves to one another.
In that moment, there was only love and passion and something so heartbreakingly beautiful. The way Von loved me was beyond compare. There was no limit to it. No boundaries. Only open, strong arms, all the forehead kisses a good girl could want, and one Spirit Realm of a hard, steely cock.
Speaking of . . .
With that lethal weapon of his, he thrust inside of me, the strokes long and deep and sensual. They set every nerve ending within me on fire, taking me to oblivion.
Von’s body grew still. His muscles turned even harder, and he jerked his head up. “Did you hear that?” he asked.
I didn’t but . . .
Something was wrong. With me.
Like the prairie ground in the summer, starved from months of having no rain, my skin began to crack apart. At first, the fissures were small, but then, they started to grow bigger, until my body was full of them.
And Von, my mate, my love, my everything—he looked so desperate. So tormented. So completely and irrevocably destroyed.
“No!” he roared, his hands sliding over my skin, trying to keep me from shattering.
It broke me to see him like that.
My lips moved on their own accord. “It’s okay,” I told him, my voice soft. My vision began to blur. “You have to let go of this dream so that you can save me.” I placed my hand over my stomach. “Save us .”
I awoke to the sounds of someone coughing, hushed conversations, and sputtering sobs. The last sound, I realized, was coming from me. I forced a breath of air into my trembling frame, silencing my desperate cries. Slowly, my eyes flickered open, and my blurred surroundings began to sharpen.
Opal bars surrounded me, shooting all the way up to the ceiling, sectioning me off from the vast, dimly lit dungeon.
A small bowl of water, which reminded me of a dog’s dish, sat in front of me, right beside the doorway that led into my cell.
Surrounding me were dozens of cells similar to mine, some with a bench, some with a tiny single bed, and some with nothing.
The majority of the prisoners wore sacks over their heads, a braided rope wrapped around their necks, keeping the abrasive-looking fabric in place.
Small eyeholes were cut into the cloth. Nearly all of the prisoners looked to be men—judging by their builds—although due to the lack of light, it was hard to tell for sure.
However, there was one other female prisoner, her cell across from mine. She held her hand up against her mouth as she coughed and coughed and coughed , the sound echoing loudly off the stone walls.
“Would you quit your hacking?” mumbled the prisoner in the cell next to hers, his voice barely audible through the thick fabric. He was curled up on a bench. “I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Can’t help it,” she wheezed, her lungs rattling in her chest before she started to cough some more. “I’ll be dead come Saturday’s games, anyway.”
Games? I wondered.
“Same,” said another, then another, and another. Others nodded, a solemn look filling their eyes.
I realized the majority of them were going to die this weekend. I didn’t know what they had done to deserve such a fate.
A small voice inside of me whispered, Nothing. They didn’t do anything to deserve this. You can save them.
I ignored it.
There was a time when I’d once thought myself a savior, a defender of innocent life, but I hadn’t even been able to protect myself.
I couldn’t even protect our child .
I rolled over, turning toward the wall. I realized that my bottom felt wet, and so did the floor.
Cheek sliding against stone, I looked down—I had been dressed in a plain, cotton shift.
Down below, the fabric was wet, clinging to my body.
My legs slid against the cold and unforgiving floor as I pulled them up toward my chest, my arms wrapping around my knees.
And so, there I lay, the Goddess of Life, covered in my own urine.
I wasn’t a savior. I wasn’t a fighter. I wasn’t a warrior.
I was nothing.
The Goddess of Nothing.
Footsteps sounded in the distance, growing nearer until they stopped outside of my cell.
“Open it,” said a female voice—one I had heard before but couldn’t quite put a name to.
“Alright,” replied another.
Keys jangled at the entrance. Hinges squealed as the door swung open. I didn’t bother to look.
“Set it over there,” the first voice directed.
“Of course, Priestess Avriel,” replied another woman, her voice gruff.
Priestess Avriel . That’s who the first voice belonged to.
I remembered it from when I was first brought to the palace.
I also recalled the way she had looked at me, the pity and sadness in her eyes as the creepy male known as Victor placed his hand over my face.
I was thankful I hadn’t been able to feel his touch at the time.
Brief footsteps sounded by my feet. A guard placed a tray down. On it was a steaming turkey leg, a slightly burnt bun, and a cup.
“I know it’s not exactly the most exciting meal, but at least it’s something,” the priestess said from behind me. “I’ve brought you a few other small comforts as well.”
I glanced over my shoulder, watching as a few maids filtered into the cell, placing a bedroll on the floor. On top of it were extra blankets and a change of clothes. Another maid came in and she placed a basin of water with a washcloth beside the bedroll.
“The maids can help you wash up if you would like,” she said, her voice soft. “Unless you’d prefer to do that yourself.”
“Why help me?” I rasped, my throat barbed with thistles .
“As a priestess, it is part of my duty to look after any females who find themselves in the empress’s dungeon,” she said.
Slowly, I got up, rotating so my back rested against the wall. I glanced over at the food, eyeing it suspiciously.
“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you are wondering,” she stated, her hands clasped in front of her. To the left of them, I spotted a rabbit’s foot hanging from her belt. I didn’t know why, but I felt a strange bit of warmth resonating from it.
“Why should I trust you?” I asked weakly.
“You have no reason to,” she acknowledged as she stood up. Her hands twisted together, and she raised her left shoulder, performing a small shrug. “But if I were to poison you, it would be a kinder way to die than what awaits you in the arena.”
The empress’s words replayed in my mind. You have failed at your task, child, which means you are no longer of use to me. Your soul will be destroyed among the sands, your existence erased forevermore.
Games. Arena. Sands. Existence erased.
It all clicked.
I rested the back of my head against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, full of shifting pastel colors. “So then I, too, am to die, yet again.”
“Leave us,” Priestess Avriel said to the others.
They did as she asked, and the door closed shut behind them.
“I’m going to complete my rounds. Holler if you need anything,” replied the one woman dressed in expensive-looking armor.
“Thank you,” the priestess responded as the guard walked away.
She moved closer to me, stepping around the small wet spot on the floor.
She crouched down beside me, glancing from left to right before she whispered, “Time is of the essence. Tell me how you know Nockrythiam, and I might be able to help you.”
Help.
I had been like her once, eager to help.
Where had it gotten me in the end?
Here, in a foreign land, sentenced to be executed. No mate. No child. No family.
I had nothing now.
She waved her hand, and on a gust of air, the tray of food slid closer to us. “If small steps are what you need, then we can start here.” She picked up the cup and offered it to me.
“You can command wind,” I said, unable to help thinking of Von. Longing filled me as I hesitantly took the cup. I brought it to my lips and drank down some of the water. It was cool and crisp, and it felt heavenly on my poor throat. I drank some more.
“Yes, it is the main source of my power,” she answered. “I heard Nockrythiam was also quite good at commanding it.”
“Unlike any other,” I stated, lowering the cup. I glanced to the turkey leg, the skin crisp and brown. I bet it tasted good .
She picked up the plate and handed it to me. “Go on. Eat. You are going to need all the strength you can get if you are to outlast a soul crusher.”
I took it, my cold fingers savoring the warmth. “Soul crusher?” I asked, taking a small bite. The meat was savory, warm, and delicious. I felt a tiny bit lighter than before.
“Soul crushers are warriors who fight in the arena. They are tasked with . . . well, as the name implies, crushing souls. A vessel can be reborn, remade, but a soul, once crushed, cannot. It is ultimately the end.”
I thought back to the way my soul had been decimated when the empress pulled it from my chest.
“I don’t understand. My soul was shattered and the empress repaired it. Is that different?”
“It is.” She nodded. “Soul crushers wear a special gauntlet known as a soulius. When a soul is crushed with it, there is no coming back from such a fate.”
My appetite faded, and I lowered the drumstick.
So this was to be the true end of me.
I had been ready to accept such a fate not so long ago, when I used the Blade of Moram to kill Aurelius, knowing that it would kill me as well. I had been willing to sacrifice myself for the ones I loved. And in some ways, I had done it for me too—so I could be free of Aurelius.
But that was my choice. One I had made peace with.
Now, here I was once again, chained to a reality I could not free myself from . . .
My fingers drifted over the cloth above my abdomen. It took everything within me not to unravel into a mess of great, gasping sobs.
“Were you . . . with child?” she asked, her voice soft.
“I was.” Those two words were so incredibly bitter on my tongue. Like acid, chewing into my taste buds. I discarded the half-eaten drumstick on the plate.
“What happened?”
“I was murdered.” My thumb brushed over my stomach as I looked down, then up at her. “We both were.”
Her expression filled with sadness. “My condolences.”
I didn’t respond.
Really, what could anyone say to that? Condolences wouldn’t change the past, but perhaps a bit of truth could alter the future.
“You asked how I know Nockrythiam,” I started. “He’s the father of the child I lost . . . He is my mate.”
Her mouth fell open like a window with a broken latch.
“Holy shit,” the priestess whispered to herself.