Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
Tuscany
"Sire," I breathe, my knees nearly buckling as I bow to the King of The Cradle standing in all his glory at the foot of the steps to our prison.
It's him. Rome.
He came for us.
I stumble forward and embrace his middle, my fingers clutching at his black armoured jacket, his shirt, anything solid.
My face presses against his chest, and I can't stop the hiccupping sobs that shake through me. His heartbeat drums against my ear—here, strong, my brother.
He tenses, taken aback. “Sweet sister.” One of Rome's arms comes around me, warm and rough and secure. “You haven’t held me like this since you were ten.”
I’m different…
His chin rests briefly on my head, but I feel the tension in his body, the way he keeps scanning the room.
When I look up, I see his nictitating membrane open, revealing the glowing blue eyes beneath. His expression is sketched with someone else's blood, and his jaw is clenching and unclenching.
"Took your time, boy," Kong states, voice gruff. I look across and watch him manage a slight bow. “Sire.” His remaining hand grips the large rifle, knuckles white, still not at ease.
“You shouldn’t even be here!” Rome shouts, looking every bit ready to punish and brawl when his blue gaze catches on the space where Kong's arm should be.
He freezes.
Rome’s throat rolls for a moment before he says, "You’re missing something.”
“That I am.”
“It was my fault,” I say, gripping my brother’s leather armour, trying to keep him from edging toward Kong, from throwing his disappointment into his fists or into bullets. “I snuck away from him. It’s all my fault. He lost an arm because of me.”
Rome’s eyes remain dark with concern and anger, but he looks away from Kong, directing it elsewhere. He scans the area again before— “Is that…?” His deep voice trails to silence.
I follow his line of sight to the Trade Master’s dead body. Rome doesn’t finish his sentence, releasing me and walking over to the body in the cage.
A chill rushes through me as the king towers over the corpse. He raises his foot and brings it down on the Trade Master’s face. Kong drops his rifle and pulls me against his chest, shielding me from the gruesome scene, but I hear a sickening pop followed by a crunching sound.
My belly churns. I will never understand men or why they do such violent acts for no gain. He was dead. That wasn’t necessary.
“Who did it?” Rome demands.
Kong says, “I did.”
“But I commanded it!” I turn within Kong’s warm arm but still lean against him as it feels so natural for me now. My place in The Cradle is pressed to him. “I executed him. He held us here, not the Common. He tortured Kong, he—” My voice shakes so I stop.
But Rome isn’t listening to my words. No, he’s staring at Kong’s arm around my waist. Glaring at it.
My heart rushes up my neck as Rome’s suspicious gaze dissects our position, our closeness. He narrows his blue eyes, and I see his grim conclusion blazing. He knows… He knows, and he isn’t happy about it. I realise Kong and I are practically embracing in front of my brother.
We forgot… Ugh.
Something inside me weeps and wails because I don’t want to go back to hiding, to being a statue no one holds at night.
“I should remove your hand for touching her,” Rome growls.
My Guardian releases me and strides over to the rifle, wrapping his only hand around its cold metal grip.
He looks at his missing forearm, replying, “Let’s say you did.
” Kong’s stare, conflicted and hard, moves to Rome.
I can’t tell if he is threatening my brother or just preparing himself for whatever is waiting for us above ground.
“You lose that protecting her?” Rome grunts, glaring at my Guardian.
Kong straightens. “I’d lose everything protecting her.”
I hold my breath…
Kong lifts his chin toward the stairway. “What will I find up there, Sire?” His voice rumbles, gravelly, strong, and focused.
A pause thickens the air.
Rome’s jaw tightens, his muscles twitching under his blood-smeared skin.
Finally he says, “We’ve taken the ruins.” And I can breathe again, exhaling hard when Rome relinquishes his tirade. “The Common are hiding like rats in a maze. Let them hide.”
There are no Shadows?
“They’re not ruins.” My words slice through the air. “People live here.”
Rome’s voice booms off the concrete. “This is war! We burn the ruins to the ground, and the rats will—”
“Please don’t do this.” I step forward, hands trembling from fatigue and the overwhelming consequences of my actions to come here. I did this. It’s my fault. I can’t bear the thought of children burning because I wanted to be a hero.
Rome’s blue eyes turn to slits. “What are you saying, Tuscany? I came to rescue the Queen of The Cradle! You want me to spare those who aided in your capture? You want The Cradle to think we won’t crush any threat? I will burn every city to the ground for you. I will squash the rats—"
He stops talking when I set my hand on his chest, feeling his rage vibrating within. My brother is more beast than man; I know this. He has love in his heart, but it’s buried deep beneath layers of wrath.
“I know there must be consequences,” I say softly. “But, Sire, there are children here. They are innocent.”
Rome’s eyes shift for a small moment, my touch seeping into his fierce disposition. I very rarely touch him—or anyone.
That is two.
Two touches
“It’s decided,” he says.
My throat thickens. “No. What does that mean? Are they already in danger?”
He speaks slowly, each word sharp and final. “You’ll climb into the tank above. It’ll take you to the Trade-tower, a few hours north, and you will stay there until I come for you.”
“And the Shadows?” I pose, reminding him that heading into the Trade-tower might not be the best option given it’s where most of Master Cairo’s personnel operate. “What of them? Is it safe?”
Rome frowns, the blood on his face cracking into the creases.
“I don’t know, sweet sister.” He sounds irate.
“I wasn’t alive the last time a Trade Master died.
But the Trade-tower is closest to Ruins S, and you need care.
” He glances at Kong’s missing arm, and I glimpse that charred heart within his chest. “So do you.”
“I will go.” Kong clanks the rifle in his grip, gaining our attention. “Let me find the children, Sire. I’ll go alone. No Guards. No resources. I’ll say I acted alone. They will never know you showed them mercy, I assure you.”
“Absolutely not!” Rome barks.
“Boy,” Kong warns, eyes locked on my brother, on his king. “You will regret this.”
Rome’s face fills with fury.
“What would Aster want?” I whisper, pleading to his softer side, letting her name hang between us like a wishful breeze.
My brother runs a bloody hand through his dark hair. “Fuck me, she’s pretty,” he sighs roughly. He takes in my pleading expression, his body loosening with each passing moment. “Fine.” He looks at Kong over my head. “You go alone. Don’t allow the Guard to see you.”
Kong bows. “Sire.”
After Rome checks the cellar, we climb the stairs I don't remember coming down, Kong at my back and my brother at the head.
It is hard not to dissociate when the world is so profoundly surreal. I press my fingers to my pulse for just a second, feeling the strong thrum beneath my skin.
Both men are ready with their rifles, their bodies tense and prepared, eyes scanning the environment as we breach the ground floor. Freedom. Air.
Reality…
I follow Rome past burning buildings through a protective circle of Guards.
It is noisy, but my mind is louder. The strangest sense of despair finds me in the slim moments between the top of the stairway and the waiting tank.
I feel tethered to that cellar in a way I can't explain.
Rational thought screams I should feel relief, breathe in the air, rush to the safety of the tank.
But I can't, terrified of what happens in the tank, of what happens at the Trade-tower.
.. at The Estate? To the door that separates Kong and me?
What happens to us tomorrow?
Please don’t take me back.
As if it never happened.
As if I never became a woman.
A little part of me wants to run back to the cellar and live there with Kong forever, but not physically.
Not locked in a cage. Not starving. Maybe we should have died down there.
Ugh. I simply do not want to be without him.
As the thought comes, I finally note the chaotic scene around us, the shouts filtering in, the distant cracking of flames and crumbling buildings.
The tank is too close.
Where is Kong?
People sweep past us, their rifles clanking as they run toward a building. I turn to find my Guardian too far away, but stumble to keep up with my brother.
Now, the tank is beside me.
Kong is discussing something with a Guard, and I am waiting by the edge of my metal fortress. Waiting for him to look at me.
Look at me!
His eyes shift across, as if sensing my needy gaze, and crash with mine.
He nods stiffly.
Analyses the tank.
Takes a deep breath.
And I watch him walk from the writhing throng of Guards with his rifle in his one arm, huge bulking muscles lining his tattooed back pulsing in preparation. He disappears around the corner of a fractured wall.
Rome helps me into the tank. And I don't know how to feel…