Chapter Thirteen
CASSIA
FROM THE MOMENT I wake up, I’m doused in absolute, unadulterated fury. It burns hot, searing me to the core. I briefly debate trying to find a different emotion, but I don’t want to. I’m groggy, my head is pounding, and my muscles are painfully stiff. Fury is the most fitting emotion.
Somebody’s massaging my calves, and I crack open my eyelids just enough to see Aziel’s nervous grimace as he digs his thumbs into my pained muscles. We make brief eye contact before he looks away, shame written openly across his features. He should feel ashamed. He deserves it.
I shut my eyes and drop my head onto the wooden planks beneath me, trying and failing to focus on anything other than my pained muscles.
Aziel and I are in the back of a moving cart, with me stretched across its length while Aziel sits hunched over my legs.
There’s a tarp above us held up by some rattling boxes, but it’s not tall enough for Aziel to sit upright.
“The sedative reacted poorly with the drugs already in your system,” Aziel says, his voice low.
The drugs in my system? He must be referring to the toxic sludge I’ve been routinely forcing down my throat.
“Your muscles locked up, and they’re still occasionally seizing. It seems to be getting better, though.”
I’d lift my leg and donkey-kick Aziel in the chest if I weren’t in so much pain. He twists my leg, then shoves his thumb into the fleshy part of my calf. I whine, trying to pull away, but he refuses to release me.
“This is going to help,” he says. “I promise.”
“I don’t believe you.”
My voice is hoarse, and Aziel’s grimace deepens. He’s so clearly regretful, but I don’t care. He should be remorseful. He fucking drugged me.
I no longer feel the cage suffocating my power, but I’m too weak to fight. Aziel should consider himself lucky.
I listen to the even trotting of the two horses pulling the cart.
There’s nothing beyond it. We must already be out of the capital, probably heading toward the Wrath border.
Is this how Aziel and his counterpart made it into Greed undetected?
It’s not the worst idea, and it’s sure as hell a lot faster than walking. How long have I been unconscious?
I clear my throat, wincing. It feels like I’ve swallowed glass. “Who’s driving?”
“Silas.”
I knew it. “Is he mad at me?”
Aziel blinks. “We’re all mad at you, Cassia.”
Wonderful. I suppose this means I won’t be met with the warm homecoming I’ve been fantasizing about. The citizens of Wrath aren’t going to celebrate my revenge against Mammon. They’re going to think of me as a failure. Aziel and Silas have ensured I’ll never be respected as a leader.
Everybody will think I’m a joke.
I should cut my losses and start over in Lust. The people there are easygoing, and they don’t place much importance on things like strength and honor. Sex and general debauchery are all they care about.
I could do that. I enjoy sex, even if it’s not what sustains me as it does the incubi and succubi. My jealousy is the only complication. I don’t enjoy sharing my partners as the Lust demons do, and I’ll lose control if I so much as hear a whisper of my lover with another.
I would kill somebody.
Aziel sets my leg on the ground, then picks up the other. This one is stiff, and I grit my teeth as he begins massaging the muscle. It hurts so fucking badly, and it takes everything not to cry out. I won’t let Aziel see my pain.
“I’m sorry,” Aziel murmurs. “I know it hurts.”
It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as him drugging and removing me from Greed, but I keep that particular thought to myself. He won’t agree, and I’m too exhausted to start an argument. I’ll save it for when I’m feeling better.
Aziel should be glad the sedative reacted poorly with my power suppressant.
I can barely breathe, let alone fight off Silas and Aziel and make the long walk back.
If it weren’t for the pain, I wouldn’t still be inside this cart.
I’d be returning to Greed’s capital, fully intending to finish my mission.
Aziel massages my leg until it no longer feels like a wooden plank, then begins on my arms and shoulders. This lasts approximately two minutes before my body stiffens, every muscle locking up. I’m unable to do anything other than lie still and whimper, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes.
I can’t move, and Aziel wipes tears off my cheeks until the spasm settles. All the relief from his massaging is gone, and quiet, fevered apologies slip from his lips as he picks up my leg and starts from the beginning. He doesn’t look surprised or concerned.
Guilty? Yes. Shocked? No.
How many times did this happen while I was unconscious?
I quickly find my answer. The spasms occur every fifteen minutes. It takes hours for them to exhaust me to the point of sleep, by which point I’m wishing for death.
Aziel has been replaced with Silas the next time I wake up, and we don’t speak as he rubs the knots out of my muscles.
I glare at the side of his head, making sure he knows I blame him for this.
I’m sure he picked out the sedative he shoved into the back of my neck, and he fucked up.
I hope this haunts him for the remainder of his life.
Knowing him, it probably will. Silas is quiet, but he has big emotions.
It takes what feels like lifetimes for the spasms to settle, but I’m too exhausted to enjoy the reprieve. My body is heavy, and I don’t have enough energy to think, let alone plan an escape. I have no concept of time, and I’m barely alert when I hear the unmistakable sounds of Gray and Chev.
They’re arguing, which isn’t anything new, but it comes to an abrupt halt as the cart jolts to a stop.
The tarp is removed, revealing my stiff form.
I can only imagine how pitiful I look, and I’m relieved David and Valeria aren’t here to see Aziel and Silas lift me out of the back and teleport me home.
I’m brought straight to my childhood bedroom, and Gray busies himself adjusting the lighting while Silas and Aziel place me in bed.
The clock on my bedside table tells me it’s the middle of the night, which explains why Mom isn’t here.
I’m sure I’ll receive an angry visit from her first thing tomorrow morning.
“Do you want something to drink?” Silas asks.
It’s the first thing he’s said to me, and his voice is thick with poorly concealed anger. He’s pissed, but I’m glad he’s not lecturing me. He’s waiting until I’m better, which makes me secretly hope I feel like shit for a while. That’ll give him time to calm down.
I shake my head, my neck muscles stretching painfully. “No.”
Silas nods, then rips off my shoes and socks and tugs my comforter over my legs.
I’m asleep before he leaves my room, and when I finally wake up, it’s to a giant glass of juice and a full breakfast on my bedside table.
My hearing is almost back to normal, and I strain to hear the sounds of shadows bustling around the house.
I can’t detect my parents, but I’m sure they’re out there somewhere.
Waiting.
I could teleport to my apartment to avoid them, but I’m not sure I have the strength to do so. I’m exhausted, and I don’t care to get lost in the in-between right now. Somebody would have to help me out, and I’d never hear the end of it.
Rolling over and grabbing the tray of food off the bedside table has me out of breath, and I take my time eating before building up the strength to get out of bed. My legs are shaking, my muscles weak, and I practically hobble to my bathroom to shower.
Twenty minutes later, I’m dressed and ready, and I nervously smooth my hands down my shirt before heading downstairs.
I can’t put this off forever. The sooner I face my parents and let them shout their anger at me, the sooner I can convince them to let me return to Greed.
I miscalculated the amount of danger they’d be willing to put themselves in to fetch me, so there’s no point sneaking back without their permission. They’ll just drag me out again.
Everybody is sitting in the dining room. The entire family has arrived for the occasion, David and Valeria included. They’re sitting in the center seats, their faces cast downward in a clear display of shame. It seems I’m not the only one in trouble.
Aziel and Silas are at opposite ends of the table, and Charlie and Gray are sitting beside Aziel. The only open spot is beside Silas, which is the last place I want to be. Silas has always doled out the worst punishments, and unlike my other parents, he rarely budges.
I resist the urge to groan as I slip into the seat beside him.
“Hold out your arm.” Silas’s order is quiet, but it leaves no room for argument.
I extend my right arm, confused. Silas acts quickly, clasping a diamond bracelet around my wrist. It’s beautiful, but I don’t trust it. He’s giving me jewelry?
“Why?”
Aziel explains. “The bracelet tracks your location, and it prevents you from leaving Wrath’s or Lust’s borders.”
I rip my arm back to my chest, attempting to remove the bracelet, but it’s too late. It’s attached by magic, and I have no idea how to work around that.
“It’s been charmed so only we can remove it,” Aziel explains.
There’s no way he’s serious. I continue tugging at the bracelet, but it’s not budging.
I spare a glance at Valeria’s and David’s wrists, my anger boiling as I realize they’re wearing identical ones.
They’ve been trapped, too? Did they not find it appropriate to warn me before I gave Silas my arm? Fucking assholes.
“You can’t do this,” I say. “I’m an adult.”
Silas clears his throat. “All three of you are to wear these until you’ve proven that you won’t ever attempt something so foolish again.”
I scoff. That’s fucking ridiculous. I am not some animal to be tracked and chained up within the confines of my parents’ kingdoms. I turn, making eye contact with Mom, but her steely expression tells me she’ll be no help. Gray is the same.
I thrust my arm toward Silas.
“Take it off,” I demand.
“No.”
“Take it off, Silas.”
“No, Cassia.”
I’m going to lose my fucking mind. “I am the future Queen of Wrath. You can’t treat me like this. The people will never respect me if they—”
Aziel interrupts. “I’d get that assumption out of your head,” he snaps. “You are nowhere near ready to rule Wrath, and after this exemplary display of thoughtlessness you’ve shown, I’m not sure you’ll ever be.”
What? My lungs deflate, and I take a moment to wrap my mind around his words. He might as well have just stuck a knife into my heart. Wrath is my birthright. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Everything I’ve ever done has been for our kingdom.
I refuse to sit here and listen to this shit.
I shove back my chair, not caring that the wood splinters underneath me, and teleport to my apartment. It drains my remaining strength, but I don’t care. I’m not going to listen to one more word of this.