Chapter 33 #2
“I saw your eyes,” I continued, the words jagged as broken glass.
Something flickered in his gaze, the silver light dimming.
Still, I didn't stop. “You were using your power. But she never turned back. Not once. She never even tried.” I shoved him hard.
He didn't so much as budge. “Why didn't you help her? Why didn't you do anything?”
A sharp gasp cut through the room. We both turned, his hand flying to the polished ebony hilt at his belt.
Nadja stood frozen in the doorway, her face drained of color, her eyes wide as they fixed on Rìan.
One hand covered her open mouth, concealing the absence of her tongue.
She stumbled backward as though struck, then caught herself.
To my confusion, she lurched forward again, unsteady, almost drunkenly.
And then, to my horror, she dropped to her knees.
Bending low, she pressed her forehead to the marble floor.
A sob tore free. Then another. Her body shook as she remained prostrate before him, weeping openly.
I lunged forward at once, ready to pull her to her feet. Ready to stop her from bowing to him—from throwing herself at the mercy of the Dark Prince. Ready to shield her from his wrath if I had to.
But Rìan stepped into my path. He crossed the room and went straight to the girl.
My stomach dropped. What was he going to do? Strike her? Kill her? What would he cut from her next, now that she’d discovered he was back?
He crouched down in front of her. Then he spoke. Too quietly for me to make out the words, his voice was little more than a low rumble. Slowly, hesitantly, Nadja lifted her head. Tears streaked her face, her jaw trembling as she looked up at him.
I took a step forward, every muscle taut, ready to intervene.
“... I’m not here. Not yet. Do you understand, Nadja?”
The fact that he remembered her name reignited my anger.
He knew her by name. Knew her on sight. And he'd still ripped out her tongue.
Rìan rose in one smooth motion, all lethal grace and deadly poise, as she staggered to her feet. Even from where I stood, I could see her knees knocking together beneath her skirts.
“Go,” he said.
She turned to obey, then hesitated. Before I could make sense of what she was doing, she reached for his hand. I sucked in a breath, certain he would punish her for it.
But he never did. He simply let her take it.
Nadja leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the palm of his hand. She remained there for a long moment before straightening. Brushing the tears from her face into the shoulder of her dress, she hurried from the room.
What had I just witnessed? Were the people of the Court of Dusk such zealots that they worshipped Rìan despite his cruelty? How could she show such devotion to the male who’d taken her tongue?
The silver vanished from his eyes, leaving them dark beneath a face carved from granite. He held my gaze for a long, silent moment. Then, with a sharp turn, he strode toward the door. “I have work to do.”
“Is this where you'll be staying now, instead of the library?” I called after him through clenched teeth. I needed to know. If he planned to sleep here, I'd take his cot in the library. I'd sleep in the hallway if I had to.
“No. These rooms are Dannis's for when he returns.”
The words struck like a knife. Regret crashed through me at once, swift and overwhelming.
He stopped mid-step. When he turned back toward me, something had changed. There was a dangerous alertness in his expression that hadn't been there before.
“What?”
The single word made my stomach plummet.
He took a slow step toward me, and I became abruptly aware of everything he was. The breadth of his shoulders. The impossible height of him. The vastness of the power he carried, like a universe hidden beneath his skin.
He dipped his chin, fixing me with that predatory stare. “What are you hiding?”
Was I really that obvious? My pulse stumbled. I couldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him that Dannis was already dead. That Levinica had learned the truth after I'd realized it myself.
If I told him, our bargain would become worthless.
What reason would he have to sever the bond if I had nothing left to offer?
He'd have to let me live—we were still tethered by the magic I'd siphoned from him—but freedom was another matter entirely.
He could lock me away for the rest of my life.
Keep me under guard where I could never threaten him. Never threaten his plans.
And Aedric would never be saved.
I couldn't tell him.
I forced my expression back into the same resentful glare as before.
“Levinica had a theory about the map of the wells.”
His face didn’t move an inch. “Tell me.”
I swallowed hard. “She thought we were looking at the wrong map. That The Book of Old Tales might be older than we thought—from a time before the Dusklands were severed from the rest of Elantis. When the continent was still whole.”
His pupils flared. It was the only sign that my words had affected him at all.
“Why wasn't I told.”
The sick feeling in my stomach only worsened. Yet the lies came easily, slipping from my tongue as though they belonged there. As though I wasn't betraying Levinica with every word.
“She told me to wait,” I heard myself say. “She wanted to see if she was right before she said anything.”
His eyes searched mine for a moment. Then he moved to the door.
“Have Nadja prepare you a bag.”
“A bag?”
“We leave on the morrow.”
My heart skipped.
“Leave?” I stared at him. “Where?”
“To the Gates.”
The words hit me a second before their meaning did.
“With you?” I blurted.
“Yes. With me.”
For a moment, I could only stare.
I didn't know why I was so shocked. What had I expected? That we'd find a way to sever the bond and I'd remain here in Noctharis, reading books with Levinica while Rìan ventured out alone to break it?
Levinica. She was gone.
There would be no more afternoons at the dining table. No more lessons. No more tea growing cold between us while I stumbled over words I'd only just learned to read.
The emptiness she'd left behind yawned inside me, a cavernous hollow that threatened to swallow me whole.
And lining its walls was something darker: dread.
Because for all my desire to break the bond, I'd never truly pictured what came next.
I'd never imagined crossing Elantis at Rìan's side, spending days—perhaps weeks—with no one but the Dark Prince for company. The thought made my stomach turn.
“What if she was wrong?” I called after him, trying not to let the despair bleed into my voice.
He paused at the doorway and turned his head just enough to look back at me over his shoulder. Gods, he was a terrifying creature. Beautiful in the way a storm at sea was beautiful—powerful, inevitable, and devastating to anything caught in its path.
“Then we'll find out when we get there.”
And before I could think of another argument, another reason why this was a terrible idea, he was gone.
I stared after him for a long moment, my heart galloping in my chest, my lies bitter and foul on my tongue.
I had to do it. I had to keep from him the truth about Dannis, the truth about Levinica's death.
But the guilt lingered all the same. Not because I'd deceived Rìan—but because I’d dishonored Levinica.
She was scarcely gone, and already I was using her final discovery, her final act of hope, as leverage for my own plans.
The realization should have horrified me.
Instead, it settled over me with a grim sort of resignation.
If I was going to break the bond—if I was going to find a way to destroy Rìan—I needed to do this.
I needed him to think the madness had finally claimed her, not that the truth about Dannis had sent her walking into the sea.
I had to choose Aedric. I had to choose Elantis. I had to choose… me.
Selfish, my inner voice hissed.
Closing my eyes, I reached down, down toward the dark place where my magic slept. Usually it fled from my touch, vanishing deeper into the void whenever I sought it.
This time, it lingered.
And then, like a serpent lifting its head from slumber, it slithered forward to meet me.