CHAPTER 36
“The pendants, three are created, matching the first ever three huntresses that were born from the flame of the God of Fire.” - Book of Azure
I PULL MY MIDNIGHT HAIR back tightly, slicking it into a high bun. The leather of my gloves snags on a few strands, which agitates the shit out of me.
“Now you pull your hair up as I leave?” Koen teases, leaning against the stone wall with his arms crossed. A sweat bead falls from his head, down to his chin and I force my eyes away.
His body pulls away as he casually walks my way while I pull upward on my gloves. He pauses as soon as he stands beside me and my teeth grind, eyes staring at the ground while I tighten my belt.
“Now the Realms can see your beauty out there today.” He pulls closer to me, whispering against my ear and my eyes stay wide, glued to the ground.
“Go,” I snarl, pulling my lips together between my teeth.
He reaches out, his hand grabbing mine as the leather rubs against my skin. My nostrils flare with his touch. My heart feels as if a thousand daggers are slicing through it.
“Never let them see your weakness,” he says.
I rip my gaze away from the ground to meet his. “I have no weakness.”
A tick in his jaw highlights the tension in his body. His hand lets go, and he walks away. My lips part as I let out a shaky breath.
I let out a scream, ripping the gloves off of my hands and slamming them to the ground. My knees meet the gravel, kicking up the rust dirt as I stare at the sky.
I hate him. I hate him.
Gods, let me forever hate him.
My palms sweat, catching my breath after we just finished training. Now I know why he gifted me these, so I can touch without burning someone. I lost count of how many times he grabbed my hands, twisting them around the reins to practice tightening them around my palms.
I lost count how many times he would reach for my hands, lifting me off of the ground after I fell off the wooden horse.
I believe it was an excuse just to be somewhat close to me. Our last time together. Something inside of me didn’t want it to end.
But now, the rage I felt is back.
My body shifts, gripping the edges of my windowsill and letting my hands dig into the edges of the chilled rocks. I hate him.
I’m unsure if anything will ever make me stop hating him.
Or, if the hurt I feel is too powerful and I let myself feel the pain instead of hating him, I fear I might never stop crying.
He did betray me that night. He has betrayed me countless times.
There is no way he would have taken me to the archives.
He was going to trade me in the Darklands, I just know it.
The Queen throwing me into the games might have saved my life.
If she wouldn’t have interfered, I could have been dead.
I would have never found the stones. The dragons.
My memories. The Deskyiara bloodline would have been lost for good.
I should have known a darkling would do anything in its powers to kill the last Deskyiara.
But now I fear I'm just a pawn in their chess game. I can sense something brewing, a wicked feeling that sends shivers down my spine.
I wonder why they haven’t tried killing Tilly. They should. She deserves the worst death possible.
My eyes shift upward, catching sight of the chosen heading out for our next battle game.
Ivker strides ahead, his auburn hair braided, which is smart.
If he is up against the horse of fire, this will protect his hair from catching the flames.
But also his mechanical arm might benefit him when trying to bond with a horse this year.
I’ve seen the way he wields his swords, as if they’re light as a feather.
I wish I could watch him ride, but the contestants cannot watch. We wait our turn in the tunnel.
Let's hope Dryden doesn’t put a blade to me again.
He might regret that this time, as I'd burn him in seconds.
Zake hustles up towards Ivker, walking beside him as Octavian does the same. My eyes follow their path until they are no longer visible in the Pyre.
My eyes shut, shifting on my heels to turn and take a seat on the edge. I suppose it’s time.
Use that anger to ride. You are the last Deskyiara, and I have loved watching you remember.
His voice replays in my mind. That’s all I hear. It's consuming me. Maddening me.
More than anything, I wish I could remove every thought I have of him. Every memory.
I don’t want them anymore.
I want him gone.
My fingers curl tightly around the hilt of my dagger as I pull the blade free, watching it glint in the dim light.
My reflection sways on the polished surface as I tilt it from side to side, yet the face staring back at me feels unfamiliar, like a stranger's. I can't fathom how they expect me to rise for them when my life is tangled in a chaotic blur.
What would my father want me to do? My real father, the one who raised me and shaped me. The one who taught me to wield a sword and to fight, to never stand down to any man or woman. Not the man I was forced into hiding with.
If only I could remember the power I have from the Deskyiara bloodline, that could make me unstoppable. But it's as if Tilly still has control over my memories and desperately is keeping me from remembering it.
Gripping the dagger tightly, I thrust it into the narrow cracks of the rugged windowsill, its blade scraping against the stone with a harsh, grating sound.
A guttural yell erupts from my throat, echoing through the room.
My veins bulge against my flushed neck, pulsing with intensity as my face burns with heat.
I deeply suck in the air, steadying my heart rate. My fist repeatedly hits the rocks, and I clench my eyes tightly, avoiding any pain I feel inside me.
“Damn, are you okay?” A sudden, raspy voice startles me.
My eyes widen, catching sight of Klayra leaning against the doorframe. Her arms are crossed, brows shifted upward as she stares right at me.
“What do you want?” I yank the dagger out of the crack, jabbing it back into its sheath.
She tucks her teal hair behind her ears, her two top buns bobbing as she enters the room. “Can I sit?” Her arm gestures out towards the bed.
I nod. “Need round two of what happened at the Pyre?”
“I’d rather avoid something like that again.” Her lip pulls into a soft grin. “However, I have never seen anyone stand up to Lykia like you did. It was thrilling to watch.”
Her eyes light with amusement, shaking her head as she replays the moments through her mind. “If only the Realm of the Sea would stand up to her as well as you did.”
“Glad I could entertain you.” My brows narrow, fingers gripping the rocks tighter. “Should I fear her? Koen,” I pause, just saying his name makes my skin burn with rage. “He warned me about Skie’s curse. Lykia has the same, doesn’t she?”
Klayra’s lips part, exhaling deeping. “She does. Yet, if you think Skie is insane, Lykia is worse.”
“I don’t understand how.” My eyes widen, shifting back against the window.
“Lykia has been kicked out by her own father, she can never return to the Sea unless Koen marries her.” She lifts her leg, casually bending it across my bed as her other one hangs over it.
“She will do anything to become Queen of the Sea Realm, her brothers are not vowed to be married, only her. Which means, if she doesn’t marry Koen in time, Zake or Dryden will take the throne.
And all hell will break loose if that happens. I fear what she will do.”
I stare at my worn leather boots, counting the scratches that now almost consume them. “It’s all about power to her, not love.”
Klayra nods, her teal strands falling out from behind her ears. “With every descendant from the Gods, they only crave power.”
“I don’t,” I mutter out.
She takes her other leg, criss-crossing on my bed as she leans forward. “So are you confirming the rumors are true? Are you a Deskyiara?”
My lips tug between my teeth. “I suppose I won’t deny it...”
Both our eyes lock as her brows lift with curiosity. “Damn, no wonder why I couldn’t take you down.”
“Confident now, are we?”
She takes her blade out, twirling it on her fingertips. “Just wait till you see me fight one of those dragons after we bond to a horse.”
“You are not a part of the games.” I kick my leg up, resting it on the ledge. “How are you allowed in here? How the hell is Lykia allowed here?”
“I was engaged to Queen Antivianna’s middle son, Theon’s and Skie’s older brother.
Their older brother died in the war.” She clears her throat, casually messing with the bed sheets as she recalls painful memories.
“When he decided dark magic was more important than our relationship and vanished, she took me in. She knows how badly I want the Darklands to fall because of it, so she allows me to fight dragons to burn off some of the rage I feel, and I am allowed to fight the Wailing Mother with the others. I want to rip out the heart of the Queen who reigns at the Darklands, take a dagger straight through it for taking the man I love.”
She shifts, deeply sighing. “As for Lykia, her and Skie have always been close. Especially since they both are engaged to one of the brothers, so Queen Antivianna allows her to walk in the Pyre as she pleases.”
“So I will have to see her again?” My chin lifts upwards, deeply breathing with the thought of her being around me at all times.
“Unfortunately,” she scuffs.
“I’m so sorry you lost someone you love.” My eyes soften. “I understand your pain.”
“Just be glad the man you love is still alive.”
“Even if he isn’t the same man I once remember?”
Her eyes widen. “That… I’m not sure about. But maybe you can eventually find a way to love the man he has become.”
I roll my eyes away and scuff. “Yeah, we’ll see. I’ll make sure I watch while you fight, as long as I don’t die in that damn game.”
“Good.” Her lips pull into a smirk, snatching the blade in the air before thrusting it back into her sheath against her chest.
“You don’t remember anything about the bloodline, do you?”