Chapter 85
Zadriel
Rope dug into Zadriel’s throat, thick hemp fibers chafing his skin with every shallow breath.
His head sagged, what little strength he had waning, but as he leaned forward the restraints cut deeper into raw skin, his aching flesh weeping.
Blood and Mother knew what else seeping into the fibrous weave.
It was tethered to a hook in the ceiling, cut long enough to hold him in place, his hands bound to another on the floor at his back.
Shifting on his knees, he attempted to hold himself up, but all he managed to do was tug on the ties binding his wrists.
His arms stretched, shoulders screaming while his bones nearly popped from their sockets.
Brennan eyed him with disdain. “The princess you’re so fond of, who killed my son,” he spat between clenched teeth, “abdicated the throne and handed her crown to someone who reinstated the Laws. They’re keeping Halflings in Cannamar again.”
Zadriel only had the energy for a pained rasp.
The rope cut deeper into his neck while Brennan ran his fingers over the weave.
“She refused to help us, as selfish as the rest of her family. But don’t worry, my spies tell me she killed a noble daughter and the king is furious.
She’ll be paying for ages, the power she stole used to benefit the nobility.
” He fisted the rope and tugged, cutting off Zadriel’s airway.
“You have her to thank for everything that comes next, Zadriel. And you will find her for me once you remember what it means to be my loyal dog.”
Air rushed into Zadriel’s lungs when Brennan let go, a cough rattling in his chest. He nearly doubled over, choking again.
When he could breathe once more, his aching knees holding him steady, he looked up through bloodshot eyes, watching Brennan prowl to the shelves lining his wall.
The man took his time surveying his reagents, fingers grazing over jars until he found what he wanted.
Glass clinked in an overflowing basket of blood vials, a mess of new scars pulsing on Zadriel’s arms. Raised flesh throbbing as if the blade still seared his skin.
Without another word, Brennan left, slamming the door behind him. Stealing the light. Leaving Zadriel bound for Mother knew how long.
Whenever the blood thrall waned, Brennan kept him this way, strung up in the middle of the dark pantry. Day after day. Until the man deigned to return.
To bleed him.
To beat him.
To make him pay for Cillian and everything that came after.
Time became meaningless—it could have been days or months since Aedlin bled out in the grass. It was pointless, trying to keep track. Pointless to hope for a life outside this misery. Zadriel understood now...
Nothing waited for him outside Eden.
Sweat-slicked inky black hair stuck to Zadriel’s brow, dark shadows kissing his cheeks. His eyelids drooped, head bobbing until the rope cut into his skin again. Pain burning deep into his flesh.
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t fucking breathe.
Giving up, he squeezed his eyes shut again, praying for sleep... but Brennan’s voice boomed in his mind.
Your little paramour led the Halflings back to Cannamar herself, knowing what awaited them.
Zadriel gasped, black eyes flying open to find empty darkness. He swayed in his bindings, squeezing his eyes shut again in a fruitless attempt to rest. It did nothing to silence Brennan’s low, vicious tone.
The people speak of a demonic creature made of darkness who cut through village after village. They fear Halflings now more than before, thanks to her.
His breath sawed through gritted teeth, fists clenched, raw wrists aching, something warm trickling into his palms. The thick scent of copper blending with stale, musty air.
Tell me, Brennan taunted, was Cillian right? Did you want his woman? Should I drag her here and have you cut out her heart like you did with the tree? It’s a fitting punishment, since she’s the reason you’ll never return home.
“No!” Zadriel roared, the raspy sound clawing its way up his dry throat.
His mind was muddled, empty stomach clenching while his heart attempted to race. It barely managed a flutter as he panted, wide eyes flicking through shadows in search of azure, and finding nothing.
Zadriel couldn’t be sure what upset him most—the idea of something happening to the woman whose spirit sang to his heart, or the thought of seeing her again. She’d crowned a king who damned the Halflings, used the Mother’s gifts to wreak havoc on the lands and stoke Berwick’s senseless fear, and...
Mora killed Cillian.
Floorboards creaked, black boots embossed in silver glinting despite the shadows.
Then, someone clicked their tongue, a brighter, deeper azure burning into Zadriel’s eyes as Cillian came into view.
“I told you, brother, Mora has no interest in Halflings and doesn’t wish to ascend the throne.
Is it truly so shocking she’d hand the Crown to someone who’d reinstate the Laws? ”
“She killed you,” Zadriel whispered.
Cillian’s upper lip curled, his teeth digging into his left cheek. “That she did.”
The door slid open, hinges squeaking, light spearing through Cillian’s blue tunic and slamming into Zadriel’s face. The Fae hissed, clenching his eyes shut and turning his head as much as he could, rope cutting into his windpipe.
“Who were you talking to?” Aoife asked, standing before him.
Cillian was gone.
Taking a deep breath, Zadriel frowned as citrus and herbs coated his lungs. He was surrounded by it, the scent so overwhelming he could taste it. It made everything feel real.
... Had it been real?
No. Cillian’s dead.
Dried oranges sat in a basket on the floor, shoved into the corner, while lavender and sage hung to dry in bundles near the doorframe, Cillian’s height scratched into the wood. Stopping more than six inches before Zadriel’s final tick.
Mora killed him.
Zadriel lifted his chin as best he could, staring up at Aoife. She’d tied her long, blonde hair away from her face, tears lining her sea-green eyes.
“I didn’t think he’d hurt you like this,” Aoife whispered, looking over her shoulder toward the kitchen, water spilling down the sides of the cup in her hands.
Sunlight dove through the window, swimming over the counter to puddle on the wooden floor.
A wall of endless green swaying beyond the glass pane.
Arcadia, Zadriel realized. Paradise beckoning to him while he stared out from his prison.
You will never be free, he reminded himself.
Because of Mora, Brennan’s voice whispered back.
He tipped his chin, the muscles feathering in his cheek when he stared back up at Aoife.
And because of her.
“Did you bring me water?” he rasped.
Aoife nodded, stepping closer. Her orange dress dragged on the floor behind her, snagging on a crack in the tile.
“I came to tell you I’m sorry. I wanted revenge against the Crown...
” She swallowed hard, lowering herself to the floor to kneel in front of him.
“I didn’t think of how it would cost you. ”
An ache pulsed in his jaw, his teeth clenched to hold back his retort. All he could think of were Aedlin’s wide eyes boring into his while the light behind them faded, his fury awakening a wild rattle in his heart. “I told you,” he seethed.
“That Eden wasn’t safe for you, I know...
I should have asked about what I heard at Esper Rocks.
I couldn’t believe I’d been traveling with the queen all this time, and my anger blinded me to everything else...
To what might happen to you.” She stared at the floor, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I should have listened”
Zadriel offered a halfhearted smirk. “May I have a drink?”
Aoife nodded, bringing the water to his lips and tipping it slowly. Zadriel swallowed greedily, uncaring when droplets spilled over his chin and ran down his bare, bloodied chest.
He reared back suddenly, another rattling cough forcing itself from his lungs, the rope cutting into his throat. His body swaying as his knees slipped on the floor.
Aoife dropped the cup, the precious remains of water puddling on the old tiles as she reached for him. She came close, her hands curling over Zadriel’s shoulder, holding him steady. “I’m so sorry!”
Zadriel bowed his head, catching his breath. “I am too.”
He struck, sharp canines plunging into Aoife’s throat, sinking through flesh to tear at the sinew below.
She gasped, her fingers flexing, nails digging into his upper back, but the bite of them did nothing—all Zadriel knew was pain, what was a little more?
He clamped down hard, his teeth digging into her as she screamed, something snagging on one of his canines.
A burst of bitter, metallic flavor coating his tongue.
Struggling to free herself, Aoife slapped her palms against his chest, her shouts quieting to pained gasps.
Fibrous bits of muscle and soft flesh caught in Zadriel’s teeth, peeling away when he snapped his head back.
Thick liquid filling his mouth. Cramps twisted his stomach, sour bile clawing up his throat at the taste of Aoife’s warm skin on his tongue.
He turned in his bindings and gagged, ignoring the sharp tug on his wrists when his knees slipped, body swaying.
A bloody chunk of flesh soaked in vomit splatting onto the floor.
Aoife clutched her throat, blood gushing between her fingers, a single word uttered on the tail end of a desperate breath. “Why?”
“You should have listened,” Zadriel seethed, a wave of nausea surging through him.
She staggered, falling to her knees, her hand pressing against the tiles in a fruitless attempt to remain upright.
“We made a bargain, Aoife. I offered you Eden, or death; because of you, Aedlin is gone. You chose this.”
Her fingers slipped through the growing pool of blood puddling between them, soaking into the spilled water. Her body slamming into the mess when her arm gave out. Zadriel watched Aoife’s sea-green eyes glaze over, the slow rise and fall of her chest halting as she met her end.
Some of the pressure within him eased, Arcadia’s magic purring as a bargain was fulfilled. Unweaving itself from his bones. Zadriel wasn’t foolish enough to enjoy it—it wouldn’t be long until Brennan came and discovered what he’d done.
He needed his strength before he paid for yet another sin.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to rest, a meadow flashing in his mind, gold flickering through the darkness as a tempting, soothing song beckoned.
Zadriel ignored it.
He wouldn’t dream of the Little Witch again.
Wouldn’t dream of anything.
Oblivion cradled him in her arms and Zadriel remained there, swathed in darkness where he belonged.