Chapter 8 #2
I remain near the door with the threatening words from earlier still racing through my mind.
“Briar, come sit,” Maines urges, indicating a chair around the crackling fire.
I stare blankly for a moment before stuttering out, “I…I want to change.”
The red dress is blinding in this dark bedroom, and when I look down, I no longer see a stunning gown of crimson.
I see blood.
I see Barlowe lying in the courtyard, covered in blood. I see Oak’s broken leg bleeding before my father. I see Silas with an arrow that nearly pierced his heart. I see his mangled arm on the ship. I see Rose’s bloodied body, about to take her final breaths. And I hear Malachi’s taunting words.
I’m covered in blood.
I’m drenched in their blood.
I look down at my hands and no longer see the dark veins tattooing my pale skin.
Instead, I see streaks of crimson in their place.
I see dripping blood falling from my hands to the floor, like every tear of the fallen is pouring out of me.
I hear the drops of blood hitting the hard ground like exploding cries, and it begins to consume me.
The blood slowly covers my arms, trailing up my body like bloodied snakes.
Their mouths open, ready to devour me with their razor-sharp fangs, and I can’t breathe.
I deserve it.
I deserve the pain.
My heart races, and my stance becomes as chaotic as the veins shooting up my arms. I claw at my own skin, trying to rid myself of the bright red blood, and my heart drops as my mother’s crown slips from my head, crashing against the hard floor.
“Get this off of me,” I cry, my voice breaking as I squirm, trying to escape my own body.
They all jump up and rush toward me. The overwhelming feelings bubble up in my throat, and my chest heaves as tingles of fear, shock, and anxiety move through me like lightning bolts.
“I’ll grab you something from my room.” Maines rushes to the door with Oak following closely.
Silas takes my hand and pulls me toward the bathroom. I move from clawing at my skin to the gown, desperate to wash off the blood, ripping through the red silk fabric.
“I’m covered in blood,” I pant out, panic lacing my words. “It’s everywhere, Silas.”
“No, you aren’t. Just breathe,” he says softly, attempting to steady my breathing. “It’s only a gown.” Silas grips the fabric, ripping it from my body as quickly as he can.
The torn fabric falls to the ground like crimson rain, and my stomach rolls.
“Don’t listen to Malachi’s words. What happened is not your fault.”
Tears streak down my cheeks.
“Barlowe, my mother, the resurrection stone, leaving Daramveer in Eden’s hands… It’s all ruined; it’s all my fault.” Tears stream down my face. “Everyone is gone because of me. Everything is fucking crumbling because of me.”
I can’t control myself, and my movements become as frantic as my thoughts.
The crushing feeling of the past months floods into my mind like a tidal wave. I wipe the falling tears from my cheeks and pull my hands away to see more blood.
Blood.
So much blood.
Silas grabs me, wrapping both arms tightly around my body. “Please, just take a breath. Let me help.”
His words swirl in my mind, but they don’t calm the panic. Instead, another emotion begins to bubble up in my chest, and I cut my gaze to his. Silas’s face is warped with concern, and I realize what else is driving me right now.
Anger.
The dam within me breaks, sending my emotions crashing out like charging horses on a battlefield.
“You,” I snap, pushing him away.
Silas stumbles backward from my unexpected force.
“You haven’t explained anything. You have been distant and scared.” I point my finger in his face. “How do you expect we win this war if you can’t let me in or stand up to your fucking father?”
“Briar, stop.” Silas steps closer, trying to reach for my hand. “You’re upset.”
“No.” I jerk my hand back. “I have every right to ask questions and to be upset. You don’t get to tell me when to stop.” Tears fall from my eyes as I look at him, my gaze hardening. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel.”
Silas tries to pull me into an embrace once more, but I recoil—desperate for space and distance. For the first time in so long, I need him away from me. It’s as if I can smell the deceit radiating off him.
I narrow my eyes. “Get out.”
Silas freezes and grows pale.
“Go,” my voice rumbles.
"Do not push me away right now. Please.”
I point toward the door. "Since we arrived, all you’ve done is push me away.”
“That isn’t true.”
I narrow my gaze, letting the anger out into the room around us, my shadows pulsing in the flickering candlelight.
“Briar,” Silas repeats. “That isn’t true.”
“You didn’t warn me about your father.”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
He tries to take a step forward, and I push against his chest, shoving him backward.
“Get the fuck away from me.”
His shoulders fall, and for a moment, I swear I hear his chest crack.
“My love.”
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Silas.”
He lowers his eyes, as if he can’t bring himself to look at me.
“I’ll have Maines bring you some new clothes.” He steps away, reaching for the door, and glances over his shoulder. “Briar, I’ll explain everything. I know I owe you that. Just…let me know when you’re ready. Please.”
I glare at him.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” he whispers, then shifts, shadows swirling around him as he melts into the mist.
The silent room feels deafening. I avoid the crimson dress pooled on the floor next to me and gaze into the mirror.
Count to ten, Briar. Breathe.
One.
Two.
Three.
I stumble forward, gripping the porcelain sink as tight as my knuckles allow.
Regret fills my veins from my outburst, but not my words.
Silas needed to hear that. He’s been distant and quiet since he arrived.
Before I can forgive him, he has a lot of explaining to do, and I need to calm down before that can happen.
I splash some water on my face and gaze back into the mirror.
My autumn eyes are gone, now black. Veins darken on my cheeks, and with each passing second—the closer they get to my throat—the more I fear Kalix will claw her way out.
I stumble backward, slamming my eyes closed.
A familiar, haunting voice whispers in my mind, “Who is here to protect you now, Briar?”
I swallow down the anxiety—my shadows pounding in my mind—desperate to choke her down.
“Fuck off,” I scream into the mirror. “Leave me alone.”
A feeling of hopelessness washes over me, and I collapse to the ground. A numbness takes over my body, and I struggle to take in a deep breath.
“Briar?” A knock on the door sounds. “Are you alright?”
Maines cracks the door.
“Don’t come in,” I beg, feeling the haunting shift still staining my eyes. “Do not look at me.”
Maines sees my state and rushes into the room anyway, crashing to the floor next to me. Nothing about the darkness surrounding me scares her. All she sees is her friend in desperate need of help.
She’s holding new clothes and rapidly wraps what she can around my body. “What’s going on?”
“It’s too much.” I don’t look at her. “I can’t do this, Maines. I screamed at Silas.” I lower my head into my hands. “I’m furious with him. And I’m so fucking mad at myself for not being stronger.”
She strokes the back of my head. “You are strong.”
I collapse into her hold and weep.
“We aren’t leaving, and we aren’t giving up. And to be honest, you have every right to be mad at Silas. He’s been completely absent since we got to this island.” Maines brushes the hair from my face. “Maybe a good verbal lashing will snap him out of his own head.”
I take a deep breath before I lift my head, afraid to show her my eyes, but all Maines does is smile. Our eyes meet, and I find a softness behind her ice-blue eyes.
“Beautiful and perfectly hazel,” she whispers, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear.
She turns to give me a moment of privacy while I get dressed. I pull on some snug black pants paired with a flowing grey top. A calmness settles over me, and I take another breath.
“Thank you.”
She turns and grins.
“We all need to be on the same page and understand what’s happening here,” I say. “If we’re going to win them over, it will take all of us."
She nods. “You are right, but we have a problem.”
“What?” I caution, as I tie my boots in place.
“Silas is gone.” She winces.
“What do you mean, gone?”
She grimaces. “He left the castle.”
“I would have, too.” I roll my head back, heading for the door. “It’s my fucking fault.”
I pull open the large door to find his bedroom empty except for Oak, who is sitting by the fire and flipping through a book.
“What did he say, Oak?” I ask, rushing into the bedroom.
Oak looks up, his glasses low on his nose, and closes the book. “Not much. Only that he was going to go think until you were ready to speak.”
I sigh.
“Do you know where he went?” Oak asks, placing his glasses in his chest pocket. “He was upset, more so than normal.”
“No.” I motion for them to follow me and head for the jeweled snake door. “But, I know who will.”