22. The Girl With Stormy Eyes
THE GIRL WITH STORMY EYES
W hite hot pain shot up my spine, carving a burning path down my arm.
Hands grabbed my face, pulling me back against a solid body, and hot breath poured over my skin, the scent foully sweet with lingering hints of ambrosia liquor, of fae wine and gods knew what else.
A deep voice poured into my ear, guttural and low. It clawed its way into my brain, searing into the ink staining my skin. “How many times do I have to teach you this lesson before you learn?”
I couldn’t respond, biting down another scream as agony tore into my shoulder, my face smashed sideways against stone as he held me in place.
Rock cut into my bare skin, tearing into the wounds that still lingered.
My lashes lifted, the room spinning too fast, surroundings blurred.
I tried to move, tried to fight, but my body wouldn’t respond, my limbs leaden, legs useless.
“You. Are. Mine,” he growled in my ear, his body pressed against me. “You will always be mine, and you will submit to me.”
Never.
My fingers twitched, failing to follow my command to ball into a fist as he slammed me against the stone again and again. Then, he stilled.
The stone beneath me shuddered, and the weight at my back vanished, air flooding my lungs as I was allowed to breathe. Every breath burned, every attempt to move sending electric shocks through my body.
“What’s going on?” he shouted.
Rushed footsteps filled the chamber, but I couldn’t find the strength to lift my head, to turn to see who had entered the room.
“We’re under attack, sire.”
“By who?” he shouted, his voice drifting farther away, the hiss of fabric reaching my ears, followed by the sound of a zipper.
“We aren’t entirely sure,” the guard admitted, barely able to meet his gaze. “They’ve breached the main gate.”
“You’re all fucking useless! Call the fighters. They will defend The Pits or they will die. I want...” The door slammed shut, and I was left on the floor, weak, unable to move, to speak.
The pain in my tattoo faded in his absence, but my magic didn’t return, the beast still cut off from me.
How long had I been here? How much had he drugged me this time?
In the past, he would drug me enough to make me weak, wanting me to be fully conscious for every second of his punishments.
Did he plan to keep me here longer than usual?
Was Kish all right? Had she been taken as well?
My heart stilled at the subtle sound of steps, and boots appeared in my line of sight. Fingers laced into my hair, and my head was pulled up. I grimaced at the bite of pain but could do little more than that.
“You’re lucky he’s claimed you,” Santor said as he forced me to look at him.
Words bubbled up my throat, but I couldn’t work my lips, my tongue.
He leaned in closer, his whispered voice like poison. “That’s all right. We know what Rhyas has been doing for you and your immortal friend.”
No...
“Just wait until you see what Arden has in store for you once we’ve dealt with this inconvenience,” he said as he dropped me back onto the cold stone floor. My bones rattled as I grunted at the impact. The door opened and closed once more, and I prayed I was finally alone.
Every inch of my body ached, throbbing pain splintering across my head. I drew a shaky breath, trying to find my way through the haze to regain control of my body before he returned.
No matter the cost .
Silence stretched on, and the room shook as a distant boom echoed through the tunnels. Was someone breaking through wards? Were the tunnel systems collapsing?
“Fuck,” I rasped, trying to push through and move.
Arden would eventually return, and I refused to be here waiting for him like this—waiting to be used again. Kish needed me, the others needed me, and if Arden and Santor had plans, they needed to be warned of them. If Nastra was under attack, this could be our chance.
A growl slipped from my throat as I barely managed to lift my head from the ground, but no amount of blinking could clear the fog. No matter how much I reached out to it, the beast remained silent. Had he drugged me with Aethersbane?
The door slammed open, and I stilled.
“Gods.”
Air rushed from my lungs in relief at the sound of Rhyas’ voice, his heavy footfalls echoing through the chamber as he raced for me.
“Thalia!” He turned me over, averting his eyes from my naked, shivering body. “I’ve got you.”
He eased me onto my back before pulling his cloak off and draping it over me. He looked a mess, his gray skin coated in sweat, his hair disheveled, and his armor... Gods, his armor was covered in blood.
“What’s going on outside?” I rasped, fighting to sit up.
“A group of warriors in black leather are attacking The Pits,” he said, rising to rush to Arden’s dresser for clothes.
“Do you know who they are? Where they came from?” I asked as he returned, dropping the clothes at my side before unsheathing a dagger.
“I don’t know anything yet,” he hissed as he ran his blade across his wrist. “It won’t be enough to clear the Aethersbane from your system entirely, but it should help clear the sedative enough for you to move.”
He pressed his wrist to my lips, and my fangs elongated immediately at the taste of his blood, at the deluge of fae magic. It was potent enough that I couldn’t stop myself from latching on and drinking deep. It had been too long since I’d last fed, and the rush of it was like a punch to the gut.
Before I could give wholly into it and take too much, I pulled away, though every part of me screamed for more. I bit back the hunger, panting on air that was too thin. “Where’s Kish?”
He began dressing me, my limbs still unresponsive.
“Rhyas,” I demanded when he didn’t answer.
“She’s evacuating the survivors,” he said through gritted teeth.
My blood chilled. “Survivors?”
“It’s a shit show out there right now. Guards are using the chaos to drag females off, prisoners are trying to escape, one of the beasts got loose. Their binding triggered one of the wards and collapsed the lower tunnel cells. ”
“Oh, gods.” I forced the fear back, balling my hands into fists. The effects of the drug were starting to fade as his blood soaked into my system. “Why the fuck are you here and not with her?”
“I couldn’t leave you to face Arden alone,” he said and then looked at me guiltily. “And she told me either I came for you, or she would.”
Gods, anything but that. If she had come when Arden had still been here…
“You can understand why I told her to evacuate while I broke you out,” he said.
I drew a deep breath and pushed myself up to sit, my fingers still numb, my body still aching but useable.
“What the hell are you doing?”
We twisted around to the open doorway to find two guards staring at us. One of them turned to look over their shoulder. “Get Arden!”
The two guards charged for us, and Rhyas leaped to his feet, drawing his sword before he blocked one of the guards’ blades.
“Get up!” Rhyas growled without looking back at me.
I groaned through the pain, muscles protesting my commands.
Get up, get up, get up!
The feeling returned to my hands as I pushed myself onto my hands and knees, desperate to get out, to help him as blades clashed and grunts of pain filled my ears.
A guard crashed into the dresser before he fell to the ground in a heap.
I crawled toward him, elbows buckling under my weight, my sweaty palms slipping against the stone.
Rhyas slammed into the wall, barely bracing the guard’s sword as he tried and failed to hold his ground.
Fuck, I needed more time, just a little more.
I could feel the drug’s effects wearing off, but not fast enough.
Rhyas grimaced as the guard overpowered him, the blades shaking as they inched closer to his throat.
I grabbed the sword from the unconscious guard and steadied myself against the dresser.
Rhyas’ amber eyes flashed to me as I forced myself to move, running the sword into the guard’s side.
He cried out before we collided, falling to the ground in a mess of limbs.
His sword clattered onto the ground, and Rhyas quickly kicked it aside before pulling me off him.
“Come on! We’ve got to get out of here!” he shouted, shoving me toward the door before slamming his dagger into the guard’s throat, silencing him for good. I hesitated, my eyes falling on the pile of clothes on the ground nearby, my clothes.
“The fuck are you doing?” Rhyas shouted.
“I can’t leave it,” I said, feeling stupid in my inability to leave it behind as I dropped to my knees and fished the small scrap of remaining fabric from the boy’s coat out of my pocket. I rose, rushing after him and stumbled into the tunnel, my legs and arms strengthening.
Rhyas stopped at my side, looking up and down the tunnel, blood rolling down his face from a cut above his brow. The ground heaved, and we stumbled against the wall for support.
“Sounds like another creature broke loose and brought down another ward,” Rhyas growled, pushing off and grabbing my arm to help me down the tunnel. “We’ve got to get back to Kish and the others.”
We hurried through the tunnels, ducking out of sight when we crossed paths with guards, running once they’d passed.
As we reached the mouth of a tunnel that opened up into a cavern, Rhyas grabbed my arm, pulling me back behind cover.
I gasped at the sight of an enormous creature gorging itself on the entrails of one of the guards, bodies littering the ground from its rampage.
“Looks like the ward didn’t take this one out,” Rhyas muttered, looking around for any way to get past it.
I hated how I couldn’t shift, how I could still barely sustain my own weight. Useless. Fucking useless...
The creature’s head shot up, and we stilled, air halting in my lungs.
It was hideous, patches of fur missing from its wrinkly skin, face sunken in, eyes a ghostly white.
Blood coated its maw, chunks of flesh dangling from its serrated teeth.
It twisted around, attention drawn to movement on the far side of the cavern as a woman stepped from the darkness, her silver eyes cold, her black hair dancing around her as fire erupted at her feet.
Her hand shot out, and the flames surged as the creature launched for her.
It went up in a pyre, its shriek lasting only seconds before it crumbled into dust.
She moved with graceful steps as she scanned the area.
“They’re the ones who attacked the front gates,” Rhyas whispered, holding me in place.
Others dressed in black leather poured out of the tunnel after her, weapons drawn as they searched the cavern. She looked in our direction, and Rhyas and I ducked deeper into the tunnel.
“Go back. We don’t know what they’re here for,” Rhyas whispered.
“Please stay.” Her voice was soft—powerful, but soft.
Rhyas cursed under his breath. “I’ll hold them off. Take another route to the cells and regroup with Kish near the gates.”
“There’s no need for you to hold us off,” she said, her voice growing closer as we twisted around. “We’re here to end this wretched place and free the”—her eyes found mine, and her steps slowed—“prisoners.”
She held out her hands as if to show she was unarmed, the light returning to her silver eyes. She’d seemed so cold moments before, so detached from the weight of taking a life.
“You’re immortal,” she muttered, shock painting her face.
My brows furrowed, and another of the warriors rushed to her side, his long, dark hair pulled back out of his face, his olive skin coated in a sheen of sweat. She held her hand up, and he stopped before following her gaze to us .
I shrugged off Rhyas’ hand when he tried to pull me back. “Why do you ask?”
She offered me a smile. “We are as well. My name is Lucia.” She gestured to the male at her side. “This is my mate, Damien. We’re here to bring you home, to free the other prisoners.”
I carefully assessed her before glancing at Rhyas. “This is Rhyas, and I’m Thalia.”
“Is he your friend?” she asked.
I nodded, watching her wearily as we stepped toward them before taking in each warrior who entered the cavern behind them. I faintly caught sight of some with pointed ears. “You’re working with fae?”
“Erebus’ warriors,” she clarified.
Damien turned to her. “I just heard from Zephyr’s team. They’re gathering the other prisoners near the gates to start the evacuation once we arrive.”
I stiffened. “You can’t!”
They simultaneously looked at me.
“Every one of us is bound to Arden,” I explained, pulling back my sleeve to reveal the ink on my skin. “We cannot set foot out of this place without his permission. If we do, we’ll trip the wards, and our only escape will collapse on us.”
Lucia and Damien exchanged looks briefly. “Then we kill Arden.”
Hope blossomed in my chest. I’d forgotten how hope felt, how it fluttered and danced like the forest sprites I’d seen as a child. Was this really happening? Would we truly be free?
Rhyas stepped forward as Damien eyed him wearily, his hand going to the hilt of his sword.
Rhyas seemed to notice and pulled back his sleeve.
“I’m just like her. I was a guard, but I’m a prisoner as well, forced to serve.
I don’t serve him willingly and will gladly slice his throat if given the chance. ”
Lucia lifted her hand to Damien, and he eased, releasing his sword. “He speaks true.”
“My mate is on the lower levels,” Rhyas said, his words a near plea. “She’s evacuating the other prisoners to a safer place.”
“The lower levels are crawling with guards,” Lucia said, and my blood went cold. “Our teams are working to break through them now.”
Rhyas took a step forward. “Please, we have to go to them!”
Lucia and Damien nodded, and she looked at me. “Can you fight?”
“Arden poisoned me with Aethersbane,” I said, hating how weak I still felt with it in my system. “I can’t shift, but that won’t stop me from tearing them apart.”