Chapter Twenty-three #2
I glance up at him in confusion, and my stomach sinks at his grim expression. “As much as I want to help them, we don’t have time. You are the priority. We can’t afford to linger, or we’ll risk recapture.”
I understand his reasoning, I do, but my insides curdle at the thought of leaving them to their fate. If we escape without them, we would be signing their death warrants. They will either be turned over to the council or sucked dry by the wizard in his quest for power.
Geoffrey is borderline insane, his body on the cusp of total collapse, and he knows it. Once he tips over the edge, it’s only a matter of time before magic consumes him from the inside out.
He sees me as his salvation, which makes him dangerous. He won’t let me go without a fight. If that means draining his captives to get what he wants, he would do it in a heartbeat and not even blink at the massacre.
A girl about my age leans toward the bars of her cage, careful not to touch the metal. Her eyes are so blue, they look like a storm tossed sea. The mix of hopelessness and rage is so similar to what I see in the mirror every day that I can’t turn away.
Hope is just another form of torture.
Every time your expectations rise, they are cruelly dashed. Each time it happens, the disappointment is crushing, and you lose a little more of yourself, until nothing remains but despair.
I won’t perpetuate the apathy that has taken over Kyperian.
I drop to one knee in front of her cage, and her eyes widen in surprise before they narrow suspiciously.
“Your friends are correct—by the time you free us, you’ll be so weak that you won’t be able to defend yourself.
” Her shoulders slump with bleak acceptance, and she shakes her head.
“You should go. Stop him from doing this to anyone else.”
A wry smile tips my lips. “I’m not one for following rules. Why would I start now?” Without looking away from her, I point to the men over my shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t bring the men along for eye candy alone. If I falter, they will have my back.”
I hope.
The woman squints at me warily, but the spark of anticipation in her sea swept eyes is impossible to ignore. My instincts are telling me to help her. Trusting my gut has kept me alive this long. It would be foolish to ignore it now.
Shaking out my hands, I wiggle my fingers, then inhale deeply before releasing my breath and gripping the bars tightly.
If I don’t have enough air in my lungs, then I can’t scream, right?
It’s one of those fun facts that I learned early in life.
The magic in the bars kicks back hard, my arms aching like knives are slowly cutting away my skin.
Each second that I refuse to release my hold, those knives carve deeper and travel higher.
I grit my teeth to hold back my whimper and ruthlessly focus on the task of pulling the magic out of the cage.
My wolf doesn’t hesitate to shred the spell. Unfortunately, more than one spell is keeping this cage protected. Sweat beads my forehead, my limbs tremble, and just when I fear the magic might consume me, the last of the spell breaks.
The magic is absorbed into my body, leaving me lightheaded at the rush, and I nearly fall back on my ass. The only thing that saves me is Dante’s quick reflexes. He catches me before I can assplant, his hold gentle, and I blink up at him in surprise.
Out of all the men, I thought for sure he would enjoy seeing me fall on my ass.
He doesn’t look at me as he pulls me away, tucking me into his lap, a muscle in his jaw ticking furiously. I’m distracted when Garth steps forward and grabs the bars of the cage without hesitation, trusting that I was able to remove the magic.
Metal creaks as it strains against his brute force. A grunt escapes him, and I’m mesmerized by the way the muscles of his arms flex. Though I might have been raised around shifters, they’re so beaten down that any posturing or show of strength is reported and punished.
They want us weak and broken—all the easier to bend us to their will.
The bars bend, the hinges groan, and damn if the sight of him doesn’t do something to me. Even my wolf is paying attention, the beast loving the way he’s showing off his strength for us. Heat steals through me at the thought, but I quickly brush it off.
There is no way that he’s interested in me, right?
I’m a mess. Not only are my emotions all over the place, but my life is a disaster.
Anyone who sees me would be smart to run in the opposite direction.
Yet the guys stayed.
I try to banish that insidious thought.
They stayed before they knew the full scope of my troubles. If they’d been aware that I’m a walking disaster, they would have run in the opposite direction without sparing me a second glance.
Crack!
The snap of metal jolts me out of my thoughts, and I blink in surprise when Garth heaves the whole front of the metal cage to the side and tosses it into our empty cell. The metal lands with a clank, and my eyebrows lift when I see the imprint of his hands along the bars…and it’s smoking.
“You’re hurt.” I struggle out of the arms holding me, pushing myself to my feet.
Garth backs away, and we play a little tug-of-war with his hands.
By the time I win, I can only blink in surprise to see that the wounds are already gone.
Even as I watch, the red skin fades, leaving behind unblemished flesh.
I run my fingers over his palm, shivering when his fingers curl toward me, almost like he’s trying to capture the sensation. A clunky, rusty purr vibrates from his chest, and he hastily clears his throat and jerks back.
Glancing up at him from under my lashes, I’m charmed by the blush on his cheeks.
I almost expect him to turn away, but it’s like he refuses to waste even a second of time when in my company.
The intensity in his eyes has my whole body lighting up with the need to snatch his hands back and place them on me.
I’m not even aware of swaying toward him until the woman at our feet groans and crawls out of her cage.
Mortification burns my face at forgetting our surroundings. I leap away, then reach down for her arm to help her stand. Her ripe smell burns my sinuses, my eyes water, and I retreat as she stands, her legs so weak that they struggle to hold her upright.
Magic swirls around her like an ocean breeze, sharp and a little biting, and my skin greedily soaks it up. I’m surprised to see the woman is a few inches taller than me. The cage was so small, it shouldn’t have been possible for her to fit.
Maybe that was the point.
Her frame is so slim that her bones poke out from her skin, and I grit my teeth against the need to march outside and slaughter those responsible.
Her clothes are nothing more than rags, barely hanging off her, but she doesn’t bow or break under what she endured.
Instead, she stands to her full height, bones cracking with the movement, and her gaze lands on me.
Her eyes are liquid pools full of tears that won’t fall, and she regally dips her head in my direction. “Thank you, tesoro. You have done me a great kindness—one I won’t forget.”
I shake my head at the formality of her words. “I only did what any decent person would do.”
“You underestimate your bravery, tesoro.” A tiny smile quirks her lips, her face softening. Despite her gaunt frame, she is stunning, her snarled black hair only enhancing her wild goddess appearance. “I won’t forget what you did for us today.”
Uncomfortable under her praise, I scratch my brow and look away…
and my gaze falls onto the next cage. A small wolf is curled up at the bottom, his sides heaving, his ribs poking out from his fur.
“Are you able to use your magic to help free the others? That will cut my time in half and be more than enough thanks. Something tells me the faster we leave, the better.”
“Agreed.” Her expression turns grim as she follows my gaze. “My magic is weak, it will take a while before I’m healed, but I will do what I can to help.”
When she heads toward the nearest cage, a sudden thought occurs to me. “Why don’t we split forces? I’ll jailbreak them while you do what you can to heal them and get them mobile. Tyler and Garth will help you, while Bellamy and Dante will assist me in dismantling the cages.”
Her head dips in acknowledgment. “I will do my best.”
The same conviction not to leave anyone behind burns in her eyes, and I roll my shoulders, readying for an afternoon of torture. I side-eye the men, waiting for them to protest, but they seem to accept their fate.
I don’t trust Bellamy and Dante enough for them to be alone with the witch. I grimace at the thought of being in such close proximity to the men, but it’s the only way to keep an eye on them. If anyone is going to do anything stupid, it will be one of those two idiots.
It takes nearly two hours to pull everyone from the cages and heal them enough that they can stand.
Twenty-five people were crammed into cages not fit for even animals.
Some of the shifters are a step away from being feral.
The only thing keeping them stable at the moment is being around so many alphas.
They’re so beaten down that they barely lift their gazes from the ground, and my heart aches at the way the mages tried to break them.
No doubt that was their intent. The instant they turned feral, when they unleashed their abilities and were at their most powerful, they would be turned over to the wizard to be drained.
It’s all I can do not to march back through the church and slaughter the bastard and his minions. The only thing stopping me is that my body feels too heavy, my skin so sensitive that I swear I rolled in a field of itchweed.
Even the touch of air is painful.
It galls me to admit it, but I’m just too fucking weak for a confrontation right now.
Though I’m physically exhausted, my brain is wired like I’ve mainlined caffeine directly into my veins. My insides are jittery with magic, like I’ve overdosed. My wolf is conked out solid, lying on her back, her legs in the air, snoring so loudly that I’m surprised everyone can’t hear her.
Her belly is round and full, a little wheeze escaping her lips with each exhale. If my skin didn’t feel like it would split, like it was too small for my body, I would smile at the image. It’s been too long since she has been happy.
I scratch an itch on my arm, then wince when it feels like I’m running sandpaper along my flesh. Even the brush of my clothes against my skin hurts.
“You have to release the power you’re holding.
” A soft voice breaks me out of my spiral, and I glance up to see the witch staring at me with a frown, a deep furrow between her brows.
Working with her magic again after so long brought back a sparkle to her skin and eyes, but exhaustion weighs heavily on her drooping shoulders.
I’m not sure how much longer she can go, how long any of them can go, before they collapse.
“Huh?” So elegant, Frankie. I wince and try to shake the cobwebs free from my mind. “What do you mean?”
She pushes away from where she’s slumped against the wall. The whole room watches us, but I don’t sense anything but curiosity from them. “Shifters aren’t created to hold such raw magic. The longer you hold it, the more it will try to tear you apart from the inside out.”
“How do I release it?” I speak with gritted teeth, feeling like I could breathe fire. If I don’t release it soon, I fear that the magic might very well barbecue me from the inside out.
She reaches out a hand but doesn’t touch me. “I can show you. I can take it from you. Next time, you should be able to banish it yourself.”
I hesitate a moment, wondering if this is some kind of trick, but when my insides twist and knot further, where I swear it looks like magic is crackling under my skin like coals of a fire, I realize I don’t have much of a fucking choice.
If I don’t do what she says, I’m going to be toast.
Literally.
It goes against everything in me to trust someone else. Expecting her to lop off my hand, I gingerly extend my arm. What do I have to lose? She either helps me or I’ll be a crispy critter.
“Show me,” I say, silently praying I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.