20. Seren #2
“Fascinating,” he murmurs. “I can see the darkness swirling beneath her skin.” He raises the slender rod, its tip engraved with a tiny sun. “Hold still.”
The manacles flare; light bleeding from the runes. Riven hums softly as the rod slides to my forearm, my shoulder, then the hollow of my throat. “Where do you go, little things?”
He isn’t looking at me; he’s studying my skin with warped fascination. “And here?”
The burning tip presses to my sternum, sending sparks racing through me. Riven chuckles, his amber eyes burning as bright as my insides. “That’s it, my darling…”
A crackling fills the air, like dry wood catching a match. The screams reverberating in my head threaten to spill out.
“Enough,” Kael growls.
Riven doesn’t turn. His eyes remain fixed on the rod’s molten glow. “Pain is revelation, scholar.” He finally looks at Kael, his upper lip curled like a predator caught mid-meal. “You would know that if you got your head out of those damn books.”
“You’ll break her before the Triarch even touches her.” Kael’s eyes find mine as my vision fades at the edges. My ears pop, muffling the world behind the thudding vibration of my own pulse.
Kael’s voice just breaks through. “Restrain yourself, Riven, before—”
“Don’t you talk to me about restraint, boy!” Riven snarls, lifting the rod to give me a momentary reprieve. “Now, leave us.”
The guards at the door shift. Kael’s silence tightens the room. For a heartbeat, I think he’ll refuse. Then his boots scrape across the floor, stopping at the threshold.
Riven’s eyes meet mine, the smile on his face never reaching them. “Good boy.”
The door slams with a final, deafening thud.
My spine twists as the searing heat finds purchase once more. Breathing becomes an effort as the air turns to ash in my lungs.
“Look at me,” he demands. I can’t; the pain has me pinned. His fingers find my jaw, cruelty imbued in his calloused touch.
The mirrors brighten, the scripts around the room answering the rod. Heat blooms beneath my sternum—an amber glow stirring under the skin. Riven inhales like a pilgrim seeing relics. “Ah. There you are.”
The warmth gathers until it burns. Copper coats my tongue; white blinds my eyes.
“Stop,” I manage, hating the plea in my voice.
“Soon,” his voice penetrates the light, landing like ash.
The torment evaporates in an instant, leaving me breathless and confused. Sweat lines Riven’s temples, trailing in narrow rivers down his neck. He steps back with a reverent disgust, as if he’s handled something both holy and unclean.
“Dress her,” he orders the silent observers.
A guard drapes the robe over my shoulders as I sit up, my arms too weak to find the sleeves. Riven turns to a piece of parchment, writing in a neat, narrow hand.
“At first light tomorrow, we proceed to the next phase.”
“Wha—what phase?” My voice sounds hoarse and distant, as if belonging to someone else.
He glances up, his eyes crinkling. “Control.”
The door opens and cold air rushes to meet me. Kael stands there—a shadow rimmed with light. He doesn’t look at Riven. He looks only at me.
“Same time tomorrow.” Riven says severely.
* * *
The hall beyond is just as quiet as before. I don’t remember standing. Or walking. I simply follow the lift of the chain, trying to clear the haze from my head. My skin thrums everywhere the rod pressed, like a bruise trapped under glass.
Halfway down the corridor, my knees soften. The ground rushes to meet me, but Kael’s hand closes around my arm to steady me. The warmth emanating from him is a silent comfort, but I shrug him off regardless. I don’t need his pity.
Our steps echo as we climb back toward the higher levels. Corridors swim in and out of focus; the light feels too bright, the floor too smooth. I keep moving only because the chain does.
“He’s finished with the rod,” Kael says finally. “Tomorrow will be…different.”
“Lovely,” the word scrapes my throat raw.
We reach the stairs that spit us back into the gilded corridors. The scent of honeysuckle is a relief compared to the stench of Riven’s breath—something I never thought I’d ever appreciate.
The door to my chamber comes into view, and I slow. He does, too. The chain between us draws into a thin, silver line.
“Seren.”
I keep my eyes on the door, desperate for its sanctuary. “What?” I spit.
He clears his throat, hesitating as if choosing between truths that won’t help. “I—I tried.”
He remains facing away from me, his head lowered.
“I know.” It surprises me that I mean it.
The words anchor themselves in the air. He nods once, a brief, sharp motion—like a man accepting a debt he never intended to take on.
His hand illuminates the runes, and the locks within click to life. The room is exactly as I left it—charcoal on white stone, the crescent flaring in the midday light. He crosses the threshold and unlocks my chains, the links rattling in the enclosed space.
He steps back into the corridor. “Eat,” he says, his gaze fixed on anything but me.
“Rest?” I ask, unable to suppress the venom.
His features harden, his jaw clenching. “If you can.”
The door shuts, and the runes glow as the locks seal me back in.
Shivers dance across my skin. I pull the robe tighter, standing where he left me until the hum in my bones finally quiets.
I move to the wall and press my palm to the charcoal crescent. The stone is cool, but the skin beneath my sternum is scalding. I close my eyes, the red lines burning deep as I reach for the voice within.
A single tear glides down my cheek as she answers.
Find the second, her voice curls like silk over a blade. Set me free, and you will be free of me.
Embers prickle within as I open my eyes.
That’s it, my child. Set the fire—and burn them all down.
A slow, cruel smile cuts across my mouth.