CASPIAN
I’m living a nightmare.
That’s what this must be. It’s all feeling like something out of a dream now.
The demon from the darkest parts of me is back.
I knew I shouldn’t have come back here to Ironhold.
I’m a fool for thinking I could walk these streets—his streets—without him knowing.
Now he also knows I have the coordinates to Grythmoor which means I’m even more valuable to him.
The despair hangs so heavily on my shoulders; I don’t know if I have the strength left to fight it this time. I’m slumped against a wall, naked in his bedroom. Barely coherent. Barely able to see straight through the pain.
Was Blackwell even here with me? Yes, that part I know is true because he told me why he hates my family—that’s right. I know he’s not here with me now. In fact, I think I remember telling him the coordinates, which means he’s probably long gone from here.
I keep fading in and out of consciousness, and the past and present blend together—
A cruel laugh echoes behind me as I hang limply from the chains. The lash lands—I lost count after fifteen. My back is numb, just like my mind.
Please, please just let us go.
Please, please please—
He calls me his little prince and I want to gag.
I’m not his anything—
Shapes filter in front of my vision but I can’t focus on any of them.
I’m panicking.
I’m back there— then —with her . Fighting.
Her screams send chills racing across my skin and the sound drives a knife through my heart. I wish I could cover my ears. My stream of tears blurs my vision. Across the room, they’re holding her down—I choke on her name—Charlotte—my voice is hoarse from screaming.
I can’t stop screaming.
I’m going out of my mind with rage so visceral, it makes my bones ache.
There’s nowhere for this madness to go—so I roar her name; I cry as they break her but most of all I plead with them to stop. I beg—
I beg and I beg—for them to do it all to me instead.
“Take me! Let her go! Take me! Don’t do this! Please!”
I scream it until I’m not sure if I’m even saying the words. If I can just take her pain, I’ll swallow it whole and smile because it would mean she wasn’t suffering anymore.
But they don’t listen. They never listen. I fight against the ropes holding me back from reaching her—she’s my Spring, everything happy and good—
She looks at me, lashes wet with tears, large blue eyes filled with terror from the monsters I can’t fight for her. Monsters I failed to kill for her.
I search her eyes for hate, anger, blame, anything to complement the guilt I feel. But there’s nothing—she doesn’t blame me, and that only makes it worse.
I scream and shout and cry until my voice is gone—I watch her once-vivid eyes grow dull.
I choke on my panic and slam my eyes tightly shut. I can’t watch her die—I can’t do it. I can’t watch—
Her screams fade to sobs, her sobs to whimpers, and then—silence.
I feel the moment her flame goes out and my heart shatters ruthlessly in my chest. The grief throws me into a frenzy.
I open my eyes and watch as her body falls to the ground. She’s gone.
I scream—
—and scream and scream, and scream—
I lash out and come into contact with muscle.
I hear voices that aren’t Malik.
I think I should know them—
A warm hand circles behind my neck. I’m about to yank away when the smell of bergamot, cedar and the ocean wrap around me—a sea before a storm.
Blackwell . He didn’t leave?
I grip the fabric of his shirt.
A lifeline? Or a tether to a storm I’m in danger of getting swept into…
He didn’t leave.
The room swims back into detail and in a brief moment of clarity our eyes clash, his grip tightens and those dark blue depths tell me I just may have found salvation in my destruction.