Chapter 37
I don’t know what day it is.
In fact, I don’t know if it’s day or night.
All I’ve had to eat are slices of bread hard enough to knock someone in the head.
A guard brought them to me, along with some water and a bucket for me to use—another cruel form of humiliation.
The guard left without looking at me or saying a word, even though I was practically on my knees, begging.
I drift between nightmare and torture—the cold slows my heart enough for me to sleep, then the warmth wakes me up and sends me straight to hell.
I haven’t gotten a clue how much time has passed when Virgil pays me a visit.
His face is tight, jaw clenched. I can see conflict in those eyes as he steps closer to the bars.
The man commands a non-Fae army.
I know why he’s here.
“Atticus,” I murmur, voice barely there, “sent you to torture me, didn’t he?”
He lets out a quiet breath, his face grim, as he glances up like the sight of me physically pains him.
“I don’t want to do this, Cassandra,” he whispers.
“Then don’t.”
“He’s the High Lord now.”
“Acting High Lord,” I correct. “But so what? Is this how it’s going to be? Kieran is down, and you’re helping him kill his mate? Where is your loyalty, Virgil? Kieran’s going to wipe you off the earth when he recovers—you know that.”
He doesn’t reply, just looks at me. His eyes darken at the mention of Kieran’s name, and my heart drops.
“He’s still alive,” I ask slowly. “isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is,” Virgil says, exhaling. “But I don’t know, Cassandra. We’re watching him closely, but he seems … worse every day.”
“Then something is wrong!” I snap. “Who’s watching him? You can’t trust Atticus, do you hear me? Get him away from Kieran!”
“I can’t.” He groans, low and frustrated.
“You don’t know what’s going on out there.
With Kieran down, the rebels took the opportunity to riot, spreading propaganda that you tried to kill your own mate, and Kieran was soft and stupid enough to let it happen.
We had to move the rest of the contestants. ”
My blood roars in my ears.
This whole time I’ve been locked up in this frozen hell whilst my name’s being dragged through the Court.
“Virgil, I know you’re not stupid,” I say, my voice shaking with rage. “I wasn’t given any chance to explain myself. No question. No trial. I woke up in here, and Atticus had already decided I was guilty. I’m going to say this once—one last time.” I lean in closer to the bars. “I. Didn’t. Do. It.”
His expression doesn’t change. He only lets out another breath.
“I believe you,” he mutters under his breath, glancing over his shoulder as if to check if we’re still alone. “But Atticus found you and Kieran. He’s got the story airtight. And I can’t prove anything—yet.”
“You believe me?” I blink. Are my ears playing tricks?
“Yes, but unfortunately, the only one who can prove your innocence refuses to see you.”
“Who?”
Virgil folds his arms, gleaming black wings tucked in tight. “Aurora.”
I snort. “You might as well kill me now, Virgil. No way in hell she’s going to help me. If anything, she might even be working together with her brother. They’ve got me right where they want me—out of the picture. Atticus gets the Court. Aurora gets Kieran.”
He narrows his eyes. “I know you and Aurora don’t exactly see eye to eye, but she would never hurt Kieran.”
“How do you know that?” I ask. “Kieran broke her heart, humiliated her, and was going to marry me.”
“I know,” he says, voice low, a warning. I can’t believe she’s got him wrapped around her finger, too. “Because she’d rather kill you than Kieran.”
Huh.
Fair point.
“Isn’t that great? The only person who can help me won’t do it because she hates my guts.” I lean in to the cold wall, my voice hoarse. “Do what you have to do, Virgil.”
“Just tell me what happened. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to give Atticus something.”
“I don’t know what happened,” I say quietly, exhausted from just breathing. “One minute we were making out, and the next we were crawling on the floor, unable to breathe.”
Virgil drags a hand down his face, his jaw ticking. “And you don’t know where the perfume came from?”
“I bought it a while ago …” I exhale, my teeth starting to clatter again as the cold seeps in deeper. “But it was left in my room at the Court for weeks before my things were moved into Kieran’s place. Anyone could have gotten in.”
“True. But it’s not easy to buy iron dust here, Cassandra. I’m going to do some digging in to—” Virgil stops mid-sentence as loud noises cut through the cave.
Metal cranks. Kicking. Groaning.
“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,” the Night Blade Commander mutters, staring at the newcomer.
I move my stiff neck slowly, barely seeing through the dark.
A figure emerges from the shadows, sword in one hand, dagger in another—panting, eyes wide, ready for war.
Lucas.
Oh, Gods.
“I told you to stay put,” Virgil shouts, throwing his head back like he’s so sick of all the shit that’s been dumped on his lap lately. “Where the fuck are you planning on breaking her out to? There’s nowhere in this Court we can’t track you.”
“I don’t fucking care,” he says, voice tight as he glances over at me. “Mother of the stars, what have you guys done to her?”
“The cell did that to her,” Virgil replies, eyes fixed on Lucas, who’s still pointing his weapons at him. “You know you’re not going to get past me with those, right?”
“Yeah, well.” He wipes the sweat on his forehead with the back of one hand. “Try me.”
“I’m not going to fight you, idiot,” Virgil says with a long, weary sigh. I can’t see his face from here, but I’d bet a fortune that he hasn’t even flinched. “But there’s no way you can get her out of this cell.”
“At least I’ll try.” Lucas scoffs. “What did do you guys even do, huh? Fuck all. All that talk about supporting Cassandra as Kieran’s mate is bullshit. Something happened, and you’ve already decided she’s guilty.”
“Watch it. I’m not your enemy here.”
“You’re standing between me and my friend—I think you are.”
His tone is low, dangerous. I have never seen Lucas fight, but from what I keep hearing, he’s more than capable of taking down a few Fae in the sparring ring. Though, I’m not sure he can handle Virgil.
“Even if I step away, you still won’t get her out.” Virgil raps his knuckles against the metal bars, the noise echoing too loudly in my head. “Atticus used blood magic. Only he can open it.”
Nothing really shocks me anymore, but I can see how hard those words slam into Lucas.
He curses, furious and defeated.
“Don’t,” I whisper, trying to reach for him, but lifting my arm feels impossible. “You’ll get in trouble, too.”
“No, no, Cass.” He drops his weapons, crouching in front of me, the rusted bars between us. “This can’t be it. I won’t let you go down for this.”
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you here, Lucas.” Virgil exhales, already turning away. “Now, I’m going to see what the hell you did outside, and you’d better be gone by the time I’m back.”
Lucas doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even look at him. His hand reaches for mine as Virgil’s footsteps fade. I try to smile, but it probably comes out all twisted and pathetic. My lips are cracked. Blood is all I taste.
“Gods, you’re freezing,” he mutters, shrugging off his coat and shoving it through the bars. “Wear this.”
“Thanks … but you just wait—ten minutes from now, it will be boiling in here.”
Terror blooms across his face. His breath catches.
“I can’t believe they’re doing this to you. I’m going to fucking kill them all.”
I shake my head, breathless. “It’s Atticus …”
“Atticus? What did he do?” he asks, his voice sharp as he helps the coat over my shoulders.
“What the hell even happened? All I’ve heard is you poisoned Kieran, and the next thing I knew all hell had broken loose.
No one would tell me anything. It took me days to find out that they were keeping you here. ”
“I probably don’t need to tell you this, but”—I pause, coughing as my lungs are about to fail me—“I didn’t poison him. Someone laced my perfume with iron dust.”
The colour drains from his face. He turns awfully still for a whole minute.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Did you …” He shifts, swallowing hard, hand squeezing mine. “Did you just say your perfume?”
“Yeah … that’s what Atticus said.”
“Oh, Gods.” He blinks, then lurches to his feet, terror flicking in his terrified eyes. “What the fuck have I done?”
“What—”
Lucas starts pacing relentlessly, panic pouring off him in waves until it seeps into my own chest. The movement makes my stomach churn. I have barely eaten in days, but everything inside me is threatening to rise back up.
“Lucas,” I say, keeping my voice steady, though my pulse is thundering. “What did you do?”
“I—” he starts, but stops again, clutching his temples with a ragged curse. “Fuck!”
“You’re scaring me.” I wince. “Please … just tell me.”
He glances back, and the look in his eyes slows my breathing quicker than the torture chamber—it’s anxious, apologetic, and utterly broken. He steps closer, but instead of crouching, he’s on his knees this time, begging.
“Remember the promise I made to Florence that day I paid for your daggers and Tessa’s?”
I swallow hard.
Oh, Gods.
No.
He said—he said he would do her dirty work in exchange for those blades.
“A few weeks ago, she called in her favour and asked me to give Atticus a bottle of perfume,” he admits, eyes dropping to the ground. “I didn’t think anything of it. Thought it was an easy task—so I did.”
“You …” I choke, my mind refusing to wrap around it. “You gave it to Atticus.”
He nods slowly, then runs a shaky hand across his face. “He must have switched it with yours. Cass, I—"
“No,” I cut in, my body trembling with pain—only this time, it’s nothing physical. “Lucas … what have you done?”
“I didn’t know! I swear to Gods, I didn’t know!” he says quickly, trying to reach for me, but I drag myself back. “Cass, I’m sorry!”
“You almost killed me,” I sob, raw, blinding agony ripping through every inch of me. “You almost killed Kieran! I told you that promise was a bad idea!”
“I had no idea!” His voice cracks, desperate. “Fuck—Cass, I’m going to fix this, all right? I’m going to get you out of here!” Then he’s on his feet again. “Just … please, let me fix this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I don’t answer. I can’t say anything at all. The hard lump in my throat is making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. Lucas looks at me one last time—those sorry eyes cutting deeper than any blade—before disappearing into the dark
And I sit there, sobbing, screaming, the echoes my only company.
For so long, I just lie there, in the cold, the warmth, the wet floor.
I don’t speak. I don’t move when Virgil returns, until he eventually gives up and walks away.
I just lie there.
Part of me thinks this is it—this is my punishment from Declan. I am lying on the floor exactly like how those people left him to die.
This has all been my punishment.
This whole thing from the beginning.
And then, I hear them—footsteps. More than one set.
A pair of elegant shoes stops just beyond the bars.
“Oh, dear,” the person murmurs, her voice thick with mockery—or maybe pity.
Aurora.
Lucas brought Aurora.
And now I wish I really was dead.
“Please …” I rasp, my voice shredded, my throat raw. Pain is all I feel. “Please—Aurora … just kill me.”
I can’t do this anymore.
It’s too much.
I’m freezing.
Then I’m boiling.
My lungs drown in fluid that I choke back up. Fever claws at my skin. Cold gnaws at my bones.
It hurts.
Gods, it hurts too much.
“Stop that.” Lucas’s voice cuts through the clouds in my head, sharp with urgency and anger.
But I just whimper uncontrollably.
I don’t know what he wants from me.
Kieran might not even live.
And I don’t want to be here if he doesn’t.
“Kill you?” Aurora snorts, smugness practically dripping off of her. “Killing you would be too easy for what you did to Kieran.”
I don’t even have the strength to defend myself anymore.
I don’t move.
I don’t blink.
“Aurora, we talked about this,” Lucas snaps. “She didn’t do it. Look at her!”
“I am, and I’m loving what I’m seeing so far.”
“For fuck’s sake, this is not why I brought you here!”
Aurora exhales, probably wearing that bored-out-of-her-mind expression, but then she crouches in front of me, the skirts of her gown brushing the filthy ground. “Tell me, Cassandra—did you try to poison your own mate?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I try again, and manage at last. “No.”
Then, nothing.
I hear nothing but utter silence.
When I finally look up, her face is pale as paper.
“You’re telling the truth,” she breathes, her voice trembling, like one single word knocks the wind out of her lungs. “But … but Atticus didn’t lie when I asked—”
“He didn’t have to lie to make up a story,” Lucas cuts in. “Your power is seeing truths, not detecting lies.”
What—
Is that why Virgil said she’s the only one who could help me?
My mind swims.
She saw the kiss marks Kieran glamoured.
She went still when she realised I loved him.
Oh, Gods.
She’s a walking truth-detector.
“I don’t …” Aurora falters, panic ripping through her green eyes. I’ve never seen her speechless before. “I don’t understand … why would Atticus—”
“Wake up, Aurora,” Lucas mutters, his voice rough as he places a hand on her back. “You know why.”
A part of me truly believed she was in on it.
But looking at her now—at the devastation in her face—I realise she’s a victim, too.
We both love the same male—the one her own brother poisoned.
For a long while, no one speaks. Lucas doesn’t even dare to breathe too loudly, and I just lie there, drifting in and out of consciousness.
Until Aurora’s shock hardens into anger.
Until it bleeds into rage.
“Step back,” she orders. There’s no ask in that tone—only demand.
Lucas moves without hesitation.
I always knew there was something buried beneath her beauty and elegance—I just never knew how dangerous she could be until she curls her fingers into a fist and crushes the metal bars like they’re nothing.
The cell swings open.
Of course.
Blood magic.
She has the same blood as Atticus.
Lucas’s eyes widen, and a second later he’s inside, scooping me into his arms and carrying me out of the cave so fast my mind can barely keep up with what’s happening.
“Get her out of here,” she says behind us, voice still shaking with fury.
“To where?” Lucas demands.
“Gideon.” She exhales hard, as if trying to steady herself again. “Take her to Gideon. He’ll know what to do.”
“What about you?”
Her gaze cuts like shattered glass. “I have a bone to pick with my brother.”