Chapter 47 #2
He pointed toward the reef wall and barked another order.
Rìan held his ground.
The guard behind me buried his fist deeper in my hair and hauled me brutally to my feet.
Pain exploded across my scalp as he dragged me back against his chest. The stench of sweat and unwashed skin rolled off him, thick enough to turn my stomach.
His nose brushed the side of my neck as he inhaled slowly, a low, satisfied chuckle rumbling through his chest as I struggled in his grasp.
His hand closed over my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me cry out.
“Don’t fucking touch her.” Rìan started forward, but the commander swung the tip of Rìan's iron blade toward me. He stopped instantly, every muscle in his body rigid, before slowly retreating until his back met the coral wall.
The guard kneaded my breast painfully. Murder blazed in Rìan's eyes.
The commander's grin widened. He weighed Rìan's blade thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands. Then, without warning, he drew his arm back and hurled it across the distance between them.
The blade buried itself in the wall beside Rìan's head, embedding itself mere inches from his face.
My magic reared violently inside me.
The men roared with laughter, but Rìan didn't so much as blink. He stood unmoving, every line of his body taut with fury and defiance.
The commander selected another dagger, a second iron blade—shorter and more slender than the first.
This throw came faster.
The knife flashed through the air and buried itself on the opposite side of Rìan's head.
Again, Rìan remained utterly motionless, his hands fisted at his sides. My magic thrashed inside me, terrified. I reached for it, but it scattered from my grasp like a startled bird.
The commander laughed, and the soldiers joined in with hoots and jeers.
It was obvious now. This wasn't an interrogation. It wasn't even a threat.
The commander was making sport of him.
My pulse hammered against the blade at my throat, each beat pressing my skin more firmly against its edge.
This was going to end with Rìan dead. And me along with him.
My magic screamed inside me, gathering beneath my skin like a beast clawing at its cage.
The commander reached down and selected one final iron knife.
A sick certainty settled in my stomach.
The others had been for amusement. This one was meant to kill.
Slowly, he raised the blade, taking his time as he lined it up with the space between Rìan's eyes.
Rìan seemed to understand. He looked at me then, and the bond between us pulled so hard it stole the breath from my lungs. There was no fear in his expression—not of his own death, not of the iron blade poised to end him, not even of the commander standing only a few paces away.
There was only me.
The commander spoke loudly, drawing eager grins from the soldiers, but the words seemed impossibly distant as Rìan held my eyes with an intensity that made my entire body ache.
"Elowen." My name on his lips for the first time plucked something deep within me. The reverberation rolled through my entire being, distinct from the violent convulsions of the magic beneath my skin.
A man whistled sharply. Another made a kissing noise. The guards erupted into laughter.
His expression held something I couldn't begin to untangle—something vast and aching that didn't belong beside the fury burning in his eyes.
The commander's arm began to rise.
"Nothing happened with Elyndra."
His words ripped the ground from beneath me.
Of all the things he could have said.
Of all the things he might have chosen in what appeared to be the final moments of his life.
He inclined his head, dipping his chin in a small farewell. And there, buried deep within the warm brown of his eyes, I caught the faintest flicker of silver.
The iron blade caught the pale light filtering through the water overhead.
I had seconds. Maybe less.
I reached for my magic once more—and caught it. With everything I had, I hurled it toward him.
The world dissolved.
And then I was hurtling through that familiar void—the vast expanse of Rìan's mind. Images flashed around me. Memories. Fragments of his life. They streaked past too quickly to grasp before dissolving back into the darkness.
Then I saw it.
Far ahead, a tiny spark, the last ember of a dying fire refusing to surrender.
My power reached for it, eager to help, eager to give.
Take it, I whispered.
The light blinked, as though it understood.
I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know if this would work. I didn't know if I could trust him. But in that moment, it was the only choice left to me—the only thing that might save him. Save us both.
It grabbed hold.
At once, my magic burst free in a great torrent, swelling into an unstoppable river that flowed straight into him. His met it with desperate need, drinking deeply from it in one endless, ravenous pull.
The spark grew. Brighter. Larger.
The tiny flame became a bonfire, then an inferno, power crackling outward in jagged arcs as lightning split the darkness and the entire void shook beneath the force of it.
And then he released me.
I slammed back into my body, stumbling hard enough to nearly knock the guard off balance. He let out a rasping curse and tightened his grip.
The commander drew his arm back to throw, the knife poised in his hand—
Rìan's head snapped toward him.
A vicious, animal snarl tore from him as his eyes ignited in a blaze of silver. Power rolled from him in invisible waves, a storm without wind or sound.
The commander's expression faltered. Then it emptied completely.
His arm fell limp at his side as the knife slipped from his fingers, landing in the sand with a dull thud.
Around us, the guards froze, their faces slackening one by one. The hand fisting my hair loosened. The blade at my throat lowered, and I stumbled free.
Rìan's chest heaved, each breath sawing in and out of him as he remained locked on the commander with a ferocity that looked capable of tearing the world apart.
Then, around us, the guards began to gasp for air. Their eyes bulged as veins stood out starkly along their temples and throats. Bodies hit the sand in rapid succession as Rìan's magic crushed the breath from their lungs.
The commander swayed where he knelt, his face darkening to a frightening shade of purple. If this continued much longer, every guard in this alley would be dead.
And Thalassis would know—the entirety of the Full Circle would know—that we were here.
I rushed to Rìan's side and seized his arm, the muscle beneath my hand hard as stone. "Rìan."
For one horrifying moment, I wasn't sure he could even hear me. That I'd lost him. That whatever restraint he'd once possessed had finally given way to his fury.
"Please, Rìan."
The silver in his eyes flickered. It dimmed. The suffocating pressure in the air began to ebb. I drew in a shaky breath as the guards crumpled to the ground, coughing uncontrollably as they gulped down air.
Except for one.
One guard remained in the sand, his body convulsing helplessly against Rìan's invisible grip.
Unlike the others, his stare wasn't vacant.
He was looking directly at Rìan, sheer terror etched across his features as his boots gouged helpless furrows through the sand.
His hands clawed desperately at his throat, fingernails carving bloody tracks into his own flesh.
"Rìan—" I said, alarmed.
"No." He growled. "That one dies."
The male's body spasmed weakly now, his strength failing as his eyes rolled back into his head.
If he died like this, Pelaga would know Rìan was here. "You can't—"
Silver flashed in the commander's eyes. Smoothly, he drew his sword and ran the guard through.
His body fell still. Blood spread across the white sand in a dark crimson sheet as the commander continued to stare down at him, utterly devoid of emotion.
A puppet.
His will—his body—his very mind—belonged to Rìan.
I stared at the corpse, the sheer brutality of the execution leaving me rooted where I stood.
Rìan drew in a long, slow breath, the storm inside him gradually settling. Then he turned to the commander. "Take us to Thalassis."
The commander bent into a deep, exaggerated bow, every movement controlled by Rìan's will until his forehead nearly touched the sand.
"Yes, High Lord." The words came thickly, awkward on his tongue.
A chill crept down my spine.
"The rest of you..." Rìan gestured toward the guards. "Gather my weapons."
They moved at once, gathering every knife and blade they'd stripped from him, even wrenching the iron daggers free from the coral wall.
"Come, Eidra." Rìan's face was utterly impassive as he fixed me.
We followed the commander through the streets. I remained silent, too shaken by what I'd witnessed to trust myself to speak.
Rìan's expression had settled into something unnervingly calm, almost detached, while silver continued to burn in his eyes. The soldiers fell into perfect formation, parting the growing crowds before anyone could approach as they escorted us through the awakening streets of Pelaga.
As we passed the body, my gaze caught on the dead guard's face. Recognition struck instantly.
It was him.
The male who’d struck me. Who’d pressed a blade to my throat. Who’d laid his hands on me.
He was the only guard Rìan hadn’t spared.