Chapter 15 #2
Aedric released the handmaid, and she crumpled at once to the floor, curling in on herself as sobs wracked her body.
He crouched before her, blue flame licking along the tips of his fingers as he pointed one toward her.
The fire flared outward, brushing her cheek.
She cried out, her hand flying to the thin burn now glistening there.
“Aedric!” I cried.
He ignored me. “Where is she?”
“The receiving chamber,” she gasped.
He ground his teeth, his gaze fixed on her, but I could see it in him—his thoughts turning, calculating, weighing. Finally, his eyes met mine, decision made.
“Hamish,” Aedric said over my head. “Go get the collar and chains.”
From his position in the doorway, Hamish gave a low grunt of agreement, the conflict between them forgotten in the face of the threat we now knew lurked within these walls. He moved down the hallway, slipping into his room without a sound.
“Aedric, please—” We couldn’t afford another minute in the Dusklands. We had to get out of here.
“We need to see Levinica.” Aedric was almost manic. “We get what we came for, and then we leave.”
I shook my head. “We can’t risk it! We have to go.”
“No.” He drew himself up to his full height. “I won’t have you remain bound to that monster. If there’s a way to break it, we need to know.”
My mouth was paper dry, but I managed a nod.
Hamish slipped back into the room, the iron chains slung over one shoulder, the collar hooked at his belt. Aedric flicked a hand toward the young female at his feet, and Hamish hauled her upright. “Not a sound,” he warned, and she nodded fervently.
We slipped into the corridor, torchlight writhing along the walls.
By day, the castle had felt like the worn remains of something once formidable but now, in the deep of night, it was something else entirely—a place of darkened corners and eerie silence, where shadows gathered thick and close, as though something watched us from within them.
We moved as quietly as we could, but in the oppressive stillness every footstep echoed too loud, chasing us through the dark like we were being followed.
The corridor widened ahead, and the moment I saw the massive double doors at the far end, I nearly stopped outright, my heels catching against the tiles.
“Aedric—”
Was he mad? If the Dark Prince was in there, waiting…
He glanced at Hamish. “The doors.”
Hamish understood at once. He released the trembling maid, and Aedric caught her arm as Hamish moved ahead, careful and silent.
I watched the shadows nervously, expecting at any moment to see Rìan slip free from behind one of the slender columns, but nothing stirred.
Hamish reached the doors and eased the chains from his shoulder, wrapping them around the handles with painstaking care.
He worked quickly, but carefully, ensuring the metal made no sound as he secured it in place.
When the chains were tight, he drew the collar from his belt and fastened it around the handles as a final measure, locking them together before retreating toward us just as quietly.
“It won’t keep him out for long,” Aedric said grimly, “but we need to slow him long enough to reach the hearth. It’s the only place we can skeld safely beyond Levinica’s wards.”
Hamish moved in a blur, drawing his knife and pulling Layne back against his chest, the blade poised at her throat.
“Go,” he said gruffly, his eyes fixed on me.
It hit me in a sudden, sickening realization.
He meant to stay behind—to face Rìan when he finally forced his way through those doors, to buy us the time we needed to escape. Layne would be a hostage, her presence a thin shield that might grant us a few more precious moments.
But Hamish… Hamish would not follow.
“Hamish…” My vision blurred as tears rose, though his face remained set, unyielding. Was he atoning for feelings he’d never meant to have? Trying to do right by Aedric in his final moments?
“Go,” he repeated roughly.
Aedric's throat worked. “Burn bright, brother,” he choked.
Hamish inclined his head once, then turned away, dragging the terrified handmaid back toward the doors.
Aedric caught my arm and hurried me around the corner until they vanished from sight. My ears strained, bracing for the sound of the doors far behind us giving way, for the clash that would follow when Rìan finally broke free of the iron barrier.
We turned the final corner, and Aedric slowed at once.
The great doors to the receiving chamber stood open.
Flickering orange light spilled across the floor beyond, pooling in uneven shapes that danced with the movement of flame. Aedric stared at it, his expression tightening.
Firelight.
No one ever dared light a fire in the presence of the Lord of Flame. No one was foolish enough—or brave enough—to risk it. And yet the light shifted there, restless and bold.
Like a taunt.
Aedric squared his shoulders and stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. He pushed the door fully open and we stepped inside.
On the far side of the great room, the glass doors to the terrace beyond stood open. Wind curled through them in restless gusts, billowing the heavy curtains and guttering the flames in the great hearth, shadows writhing unevenly across the walls. Beyond, the sea roared through the night.
Beside the throne of Dusk stood Levinica.
She looked nothing like the disheveled wreck I’d encountered in the library.
She wore a slim gown, simple but elegant, the dark fabric skimming her slight frame.
Her hair had been smoothed back, falling neatly over her shoulders.
One hand clasped the pendant at her throat as she stared out through the open doors, so still she seemed to disappear into the shadows around her.
When we entered, her head swivelled slowly in our direction, her black gaze settling calmly over us.
Too bright, those eyes. Too hollowed. As though whatever had stitched her back together was already beginning to fray.