2. Barrett
BARRETT
T he groan of the old wood door bounced off the stone walls of the dungeon chambers, and I winced as sunlight leaked in from the narrow passage. It was the first glimpse of light I’d seen in weeks.
“Get up, boy,” the guard commanded, and I sighed as I pushed myself up from the straw and rough fabric I’d slept on every night since I’d been locked up.
I didn’t even know how many years it had been at this point.
Thirty? Forty? Perhaps I should be thankful there was enough room for me in this cell to at least get some exercise.
“Is this him?” I stiffened at the sound of the female’s voice, and my eyes shot up.
She was dressed in the black, Elythian leather armor of The Order, a half cape hanging from her right shoulder.
Her pale silver eyes were gentle yet piercing.
I hadn’t seen such pale eyes as hers—eyes that were revered among our kind, who believed favor was bestowed by our Goddess, Selene, on those who possessed them.
Black hair framed her porcelain face, hanging in loose waves down to her waist. Her frame was small, and she carried a sword at her hip, her gloved hand resting atop the hilt.
I recognized it immediately—a sword of legend.
The hilt was gold instead of the standard issue silver, intricate details and enchantments carved into the Elythian steel, and I didn’t need to see the blade to know it was black and gold instead of black and silver.
Fuck.
Moira’s reincarnation... The queen and the demigoddess of the immortal race.
Rumors had made it to the dungeons some time ago, cellmates muttering about the queen reincarnating again.
I’d been skeptical, to be honest. I remembered when Queen Elena had fallen, remembered the sorrow I’d felt as a child for a person I’d never met.
I had seen the kindness she’d shared with our people—the sacrifices she’d made to protect us.
“This is him, Your Majesty,” the guard said in confirmation.
When she approached the cell door, his hand shot up.
“Don’t get too close to the bars. They’re warded, but he’s a nasty bastard.
He’s caused more fights in the last few decades than I’ve dealt with my entire career, even without his magic. ”
I huffed a laugh as I pushed myself to my feet, my bones sore from lying against stone, muscles stiff. “Awe, and here I thought we were finally getting close, Stephan.”
The male eyed me as I lifted my arm to rest against the bars, the dwindling, subdued flame in my chest recoiling at the contact with the warded iron.
I leaned in, looking down at him. “It is Stephan, right? I mean, that’s what the female cried out the other night down the hall.
” The guard bristled, his cheeks going red. “I knew you had it in you.”
“You should have heard it,” I said, unable to hide my smile.
She didn’t react or respond. Her expression remained soft, but it didn’t hint as to what she thought or felt.
The guard seemed to vibrate at her side, his anger lighting the air.
I liked the scent, like smoldering oak in my nose.
I wondered how far I could push him this time.
Maybe I could get him in this cell, work out some of this pent-up tension and frustration that had been building for the last couple of weeks since I’d been put in confinement after smashing another prisoner’s face in.
I lowered myself to the female—the queen, if that was truly what she was—and whispered, “Between you and me, though, it didn’t last long. I think he finished before she did. Poor girl.”
His hand shot through the bars, grabbing the frayed collar of my shirt. He jerked me against the iron, the bite of the warded metal forcing the flames within me to retreat further, and I internally winced. “Shut it, boy!”
“Stephan,” the female said in a calm command.
A grin tugged at my lips as he ground his teeth but released me. “Good boy, Stephan.”
“Barrett Stratos,” she said, and my eyes shifted to her, narrowing .
I humored the female. “That would be me.”
She opened a scroll. “You murdered your family.”
The flames stirred beneath my skin at the mention. “What of it?”
“Why?” she asked.
I froze, blinking. “What?”
“ Why ?” she reiterated.
My brows furrowed. Pent-up magic stirred within me, eager to be used, to be unleashed, like a leathery beast leashed too short for too long. “Because I wanted to.”
Her silver eyes met mine, warm and kind, and a soft smile curved her lips. The sight of it irritated me.
“Lie,” she said, her tone hopeful and with such clarity, such solid confidence, that I didn’t know how to respond.
I drew back. “What do you mean, lie ?”
“Your sister,” she started, disregarding my words.
My hands balled into fists, the flames pressing against my skin, the room warming despite the wards that should prevent them from surfacing. “Don’t you dare say her na?—”
“Calliope?” she confirmed, lifting her gaze from the scroll. “Did you kill her too?”
The flames were doused beneath my skin, my blood running cold, and my heart stuttered at the name I hadn’t heard spoken in decades.
“No,” I muttered under my breath, barely loud enough to hear.
“Lies,” the guard grumbled under his breath. “Fuckin’ kinslayer.”
That warm smile returned to her face, and she shifted her weight as she returned her attention to the paper.
“That’s not what the details of your charges say.
Barrett Stratos, charged with the murder of his family.
Mother: Cassia Stratos; father and Kyrios of House Stoicheion: Elias Stratos; and sister: Calliope Stratos. ”
My fingers trembled, and I tightened them around the bars.
What was the point in all this? I’d accepted the charges for my parent’s deaths and whatever punishment came with them, but when I fought the claim that I’d killed Calliope, when I tried to tell them the truth of what had happened that night…
I’d been silenced and left to rot in this dungeon.
“If you didn’t do it, who did?” she asked, something changing in her demeanor, in the air around her.
I didn’t answer, didn’t want to think of him, didn’t want to hear his name. He didn’t deserve to be remembered—n either of them deserved to be remembered. If it were up to me their very memory would have been burned from both realms.
“I have a theory, but I need your help,” the female said, resting a hand against mine. My eyes fell to where she touched me before shifting back to her, finding warmth still in her gaze .
My thoughts warred, winding and overlapping one another like a den of snakes.
She’ll use you. She’ll betray you just as the others did. They always do. You’re only good for how you can benefit them. They’re all the same. Don’t trust her. She wants something.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I have a feeling I know what truly happened, and I don’t think you deserve to be imprisoned for the actions of others.”
“Why help me? What’s in it for you?” I asked, and the guard grumbled. “If you’ve got a problem, Quickie, speak up.”
“Qui—” he huffed, chest puffing out as he stormed toward me.
Yes, just a little closer . I’d wanted to lay this bastard out numerous times. He’d learn real fast how weak he is, even with these warded iron bars separating us. The mere proximity of the specially concentrated metal left my skin tingling, but it was worth it just to get to him.
“Stephan,” the female said, her voice commanding, and he halted. “I would like to speak with Barrett in private.”
The guard’s eyes flew to her. “B-but?—”
“I will be fine,” she said, as if she didn’t have a care in the fucking world. “Oh, and leave the keys, please.”
I blinked.
“Your Majesty, it’s not safe.”
She smiled. “I can handle him.”
The flames bristled within me. Who did she think she was? Handle me ? I’d like to see her try.
The guard let out a sigh but handed her the ring of keys. “As you command.” He dipped his head to her and turned for the only exit from the dungeons.
I lowered myself to her level, my forearms resting against the bars as I leaned in.
My eyes roamed down her body. She was pretty, I’d give her that.
A bit small, but she might be able handle what I could dish out.
It had been far too long since I’d gotten inside a female; she looked like she’d feel good.
..taste good. I may even make it good for her as a reward.
“You want to go a few rounds with me...” I frowned. “What’s your name?”
“Lucia,” she said, smiling as if she was chatting with a friend. It irritated me how this female spoke like she knew me.
“ Lucia ,” I started and glanced back at the bed of straw. “There’s not much to offer as far as bedding, but I can promise you a good time.” I nodded toward the guard as he opened the door to leave. “Far better than Quickie ever could.”
He froze, his hand gripping the doorknob tightly, but he didn’t answer before jerking it open and slamming it shut behind him. The keys jingled, and my attention snapped back to Lucia as she unlocked my cell. Shit, was really going to let me out of the cell? Was she out of her fucking mind?
The iron door groaned as she opened it .
Magic swelled within me. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Flames surged to life on my skin, the wards on the cell broken by the opening of the gate, no shackles binding my wrists to weaken my magic.
Gods, it felt so fucking good to set the flames loose again.
I grabbed her by the throat, slamming her up against the bars of the cell opposite mine. “You should have listened to Stephan.”
She smiled, and my blood boiled at the sight. My fingers tightened around her throat?—
I frowned as my grip loosened instead.
What the fuck?
The flames spread over my skin, but when they reached her—as they crawled up her arm—she didn’t flinch away, didn’t react as the fire licked at her body.
Her soft eyes remained fixated on me as the flames swept over her, but they didn’t burn her, didn’t so much as blister her leather armor.
They died without my command, and I looked over myself.
I tried to call the fire back, but it only further curled within me until it fell completely dormant, like a dog happy to come to heel.
What the fuck was happening to me? Something swelled in my chest as those pale silver orbs pierced me, as if she could see every bit of me that had been snuffed out since that night. There was no anger, no hatred, within that gaze.
It’s fake. She’s fake. She’s lying.
“Why do you fight me?” she asked. “I just want to help you.”
“Why, though?” I ground out, my hand shaking as I released her throat and lowered it against my command. “Why help me?”
She took my hand, the one that had just threatened to choke the life out of her. I took a step back as something warm and soothing seeped into my skin where she touched me, her presence overwhelming.
It’s a lie... It’s ? —
She didn’t falter, her scent void of any fear or anger, and any words I might say were tangled and lodged in my throat.
She...she was the real thing. She was Moira’s reincarnation, the queen our people had missed more than anything. Her hand fell to the satchel strapped to her belt. A glint of gold caught my attention as she pulled something from the pouch.
My heart stopped.
A bracelet... Her bracelet... The one I’d gifted her on her eighteenth birthday, before everything went to shit.
“Because...” she started, her warm smile resonating in her eyes as she clasped the delicate gold chain around my wrist.
Could I trust that smile? Could I trust her?
She spoke again, and for a moment, I almost felt I could forget every fake, manipulative smile that had led me to this cell, almost felt I could trust her. “You’re innocent, and I’m going to clear your name.”