Chapter 19 #3
Slowly, I push myself off the wall and rise. The ember within me shimmers, eager to feed, to consume. Part of me yearns to give in, to let it take control again. But I resist, clinging to my humanity even as it slips through my fingers like sand.
“Good girl,” Falcen praises as I approach, his honeyed voice laced with poison.
The rogue’s eyes shrink as I draw near. “Still got that Elite stench all over you.” His nostrils flare. “But there’s another scent too. Buried deep. Old pain. Old fury.” His cracked lips curve. “I’d know that particular brand of rage anywhere.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, though I hate that I’ve fallen for his bait.
“Your Elite and I have more in common than you think, girl.”
Falcen’s power constricts, cutting off the rogue’s air before lips curve into a semblance of a smile. “Verily, why don’t you show your intruder what you’re capable of?”
“Verily—don’t!” Callie shouts.
Falcen jerks his hand, and the rogue is flung to the ground at my feet. The man scrambles to rise, but Falcen’s power holds him in place, pinning him like a butterfly to a board.
“Open your mouth,” Falcen commands me softly.
I balk. “What? Why?”
“You’re going to consume his soul. Right here, right now.”
Horror washes over me in an icy wave. “No! I can’t—I won’t—”
Falcen’s eyes glitter with a dark, unrecognizable color that makes me raise my hands in defense and step back. “You will. Or you’ll rot in this cell until the Void takes you.”
The rogue contorts on the ground. Wisps of wretched purple energy begin to leak from his mouth and eyes as Falcen’s power condenses around him.
I keep my teeth clenched tight. This man, vile as he may be, is still a living being. To rip his soul from his body, to swallow it whole, it’s an act of ultimate violation.
Falcen grabs under my chin, forcing me to stand over the rogue’s twitching form.
“Mercy is for the weak,” Falcen says. “You’re a Soulren now. Act like it.”
I stare at Falcen, searching his face for any hint of the man I thought I knew. But all I see is a cold, ruthless stranger, his eyes as hard and pitiless as the stone walls that cage me.
A flicker of emotion crosses Falcen’s face when I hold his gaze, but it’s gone too fast for me to identify it.
His jaw tightens. “I’m giving you a chance, here.
Take his soul, and I’ll let you out of this cell.
The rogue is a boon for you. He will give you enough soul essence to be put through to the academy. ”
Freedom. The ember begins a frantic rhythm. FREEDOM. Do it, Verily.
I startle at its use of my name.
For all that is Lux, is my ember sentient?
With Falcen still digging his fingers into my cheeks, I look down at the rogue, at the hatred burning in his preternatural eyes.
Can I do it? Can I rip the soul from his body and consume it like some ravenous beast?
The thought sickens me, but a darker part of me, the part that hungers, that craves, whispers yes.
I’ll let the ember guide me, just this once. With trembling hands, I reach for the rogue’s face, my fingers hovering inches from his pallid skin. The violet wisps dance and swirl, playing with me.
Just as I’m about to make contact, I pause. A desperate, wild idea takes hold.
I glance up at Falcen through my lashes and say through the sharp press of his fingers into my cheeks. “I’ll do it, but on one condition.”
Falcen’s brows lift in surprise, then lower in suspicion. “You’re hardly in a position to make demands.”
I straighten my shoulders, ignoring the twinge of pain at his unrelenting hold.
“I’ll take his soul, but Callie comes with me. Out of this cell, out of the catacombs, and reinstated into the academy.”
“Absolutely not.” Falcen’s response is immediate and flat.
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.” I try to project a confidence I don’t feel while practically flailing in his hold. “I’m not budging on this, Falcen. Callie’s safety is nonnegotiable.”
“Are you insane?” Callie hisses from her cell. “Don’t risk your freedom for me!”
But I can’t leave her behind. Despite her denial, I can hear the desperate hope in her ragged breathing and the unspoken plea in her inhales.
Falcen’s grip on my chin tightens, his short nails cutting into my skin. He asks, almost incredulously, “You would risk your own freedom for her? A girl you barely know?”
“I know enough. I know she doesn’t deserve this fate any more than I do.”
A muscle ticks in Falcen’s cheek. His gaze bores into mine, searching, assessing. I’m sure he’ll refuse, call my bluff, and force my hand.
But then, to my shock, he releases me and steps back. “Very well. She comes, too.”
A wave of relief crashes over me, so strong my knees nearly buckle. I didn’t truly think Falcen would agree, but now that he has, I feel a glimmer of something dangerous dancing beside my ember: hope.
My victory, slim as it may be, feels surreal. I turn back to the rogue, steeling myself for what I must do.
He glares up at me with pure, seething hatred.
“You’ll regret this,” he spits out through clenched teeth. “You think you’re saving her, but you’re condemning her to a fate worse than death.”
Falcen scoffs. “Spare us the melodrama.” His smoky, cobalt power strangles the rogue, making him gasp and sputter.
I kneel beside the prone Soulren, my heart hammering up into my throat. The ember within me roars to life, eager to gorge itself on the rogue’s essence. I place my hands on either side of his face, my fingers scraping against his ashen skin.
The rogue’s soul rises to meet me, a whirlpool of lilac and black. It’s putrid, tainted by iniquity and sorrow, but beneath the corruption, I sense a glimmer of something else. Something pure and untarnished, buried deep.
I close my eyes and reach for that glimmer, that hint of untainted soul. The ember guides me, showing me how to sift through the layers of pervertedness and decay to find the rogue’s true soul.
As my consciousness brushes against it, a flood of memories and emotions inundates my mind.
I see flashes of the rogue’s life, a scared young boy ripped from his family, the brutal training at the academy, the slow erosion of his humanity as he’s forced to consume soul after soul.
I feel his pain, his despair, his bitter resentment festering over decades.
Tears stream down my face as I cradle his head, my thumbs stroking his sunken cheeks.
The rogue’s eyes widen.
“What are you doing?” he gasps.
“Showing you mercy,” I reply softly.
I gather his untainted essence to me, a shimmering orb of pure, golden light. The ember laps eagerly, urging me to consume it, to savor its power. But I resist.
Instead, I guide the orb toward the rogue’s chest, directly over his heart. I push it into him, willing it to take root, to spread its light through his darkened soul.
The rogue gasps, his back arching off the floor.
The golden sphere sinks into him, right over his heart, and begins to illuminate in time with his heartbeat.
Gorgeous tendrils spread outward from his chest, banishing the shadows that cling to his aura.
It’s like watching the sun emerge from behind storm clouds, burning away the darkness to reveal clear blue skies.
The rogue’s face contorts, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “You’re … you’re saving me,” he rasps. “Why?”
“Because I’m not the one to judge you. That is Lux’s honor. Go to her light, Jaymes.”
The gold suffuses his entire being now, shining through his skin like he’s lit from within. A second before death, he looks almost angelic, his features softened by the radiant glow.
Just do me one favor, I say to him through our temporary soul-bond.
Anything, he replies.
Tell me how you did it. How you escaped this place.
His eyes grow hooded, the purple diffusing to an earthy brown.
And he shows me.
With a final, shuddering gasp, the rogue goes limp. His head lolls back, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. The golden light flickers and fades, the last of his life fading away. Corrupted remnants linger, a miasma of inky black and venomous purple swirling in the air above him.
“Verily.”
Falcen’s calm voice comes from behind me. Too calm.
I twist to face him. “What? I did what you asked. I killed him.”
“No,” Falcen says, much too kindly. “You took his soul. You untainted it. And then you returned it to him.”
“Then maybe next time you should be more specific.”
A muscle ticks under his eye, a crack against his barely reined-in temper. “Where did you learn to do such a thing?”
“I studied,” I retort while gesturing to the hundreds of books in various states of destruction around us.
I stand abruptly, not caring that it brings me chest to chest with Falcen. “I’m not going to apologize for showing him mercy. For sparing him from an eternity trapped inside me.”
“You think that makes you better than the rest of us?” he asks softly, dangerously. “Purer, somehow?”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I think it makes me human. Something you seem to have forgotten.”
Falcen’s eyes narrow. He grabs my arm, digging into my flesh hard enough to bruise, and spins me until my back is flush against his body.
With a sharp twist of his wrist, the inky tendrils of corrupted soul above the rogue come to him.
They coil around his fingers like serpents, contorting with malevolent glee.
I watch in horror as he brings that hand closer to my mouth.
“You can’t run from what you are,” he murmurs.
I shake my head, trying to retreat, but Falcen holds me fast.
His free hand comes up to cradle my face, his thumb brushing away the tears I didn’t sense were falling.
“Open,” Falcen commands.
Tears blur my vision as I keep my mouth shut.
“Swallow, Verily. Or I’ll make you watch as I feed Calliope to the Void, piece by bloody piece.”
A muffled sob escapes me.
Falcen clucks his tongue in disappointment.
He forces his thumb between my lips, prying my mouth open. The corrupted soul tendrils slither toward me, drawn to the ember pulsing within my chest. I gag as they brush against my tongue, tasting of rot and fungus.
Tears stream down my face as Falcen force-feeds me, shoving it down my throat in inky ribbons. It burns like acid, searing a path of venom from my mouth to my core. I can feel it tainting me from the inside out, staining my soul with its vile darkness.
My ember twirls through it like she’s meeting Nox himself and is delighted with the introduction.
Callie screams my name, her voice raw with horror and impotent fury. She pounds against the wall separating us, as if she could break through with sheer will alone.
The corrupted fragments churn against my insides, a vicious, ravenous thing. It runs its talons down my soft tissue, shredding the delicate fabric of my being.
I convulse in Falcen’s grip, my body rebelling against the violation, but he holds me steady. His hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my screams as he forces every last wisp of tainted soul down my throat.
When it’s finally over, Falcen releases me. I collapse to the floor, retching and gasping. The ember in my chest dances around erratically, hyper and exuberant. As I retch black goo that splatters on the floor, I feel so unclean, defiled in a way that can never be undone.
“There,” Falcen says, his voice thick with false sympathy. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I glare up at him through the curtain of my hair, hatred and humiliation burning in my gut. “I will never forgive you for this.”
His lashes flutter, the only sign of anything other than sheer evil as he regards me, but it’s gone as fast as it came. Falcen crouches down beside me, his hand coming to rest on the back of my neck. His touch is gentle, almost tender, a jarring contrast to the violence he just inflicted.
“You think I’m being too hard on you, but I’m doing my best to prepare you,” he says so low under his breath, I almost miss it. “Veilbreaker.”
There’s a soft brush of wind as he stands and leaves, his scent of mint and freshwater lingering. I breathe it in as I sob, hating that I love his comforting smell. It’s so much better than what slithers inside me.
But I cling to my humanity, to the small, untarnished part of my soul that still remembers compassion, mercy, love. I think of Callie, of her unwavering strength in the face of unimaginable cruelty. Of the way she reached out to me, offering comfort and kindness when she didn’t have to.
I think of my mother, of her gentle hands and soft lullabies. Of Grandmother’s gnarled, weathered hand brushing my hair from my forehead, her dry laugh, and Noxie’s failed hunts for rabbits in the grass.
And I think of Falcen. Not the cold, ruthless Elite holding me captive, but the man beneath the armor. The one who saved me from the rogue, who agreed to spare Callie, who looks at me sometimes with an attentiveness that steals my breath and makes my heart leap.
Slowly, painfully, I piece myself back together.
For as long as I’m able to.