15
Samuel
The ship sailed away from the edge of the cliff, abandoning the Citadel just as it’d been abandoned of its life. The hallways were empty, the hearths were cold, and the coffers were hollow.
Just like him.
Samuel lingered at the edge of the forest, the armour wrapped around his body encasing him in a walking prison. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t feel like his lungs were being squeezed from his chest, or what the sun felt like on his skin.
Darkness followed him wherever he went. A cold mistress with unrelenting waves of despair, blinding him with false promises and fake hope before ripping it away, causing him to free-fall into a never-ending chasm with no compass to guide him.
“See how they leave you, darling?”
Speaking of a cold mistress.
Bone Rattler sailed away, taking Samuel’s last chance of freedom, his final chance of his previous life, away with it.
Moonlight-kissed hands swept across his chest—or rather, the thick band of black armour smothering his chest. Red painted nails scraped the surface, up to his shoulders, pulling on his braids with a purr.
“They always save the mages, leaving those who are not gifted behind. They came for only her, can you see it?” Her perfectly rounded lips brushed his ear, and Samuel clenched his jaw as she continued gliding around him, her hands never leaving his body.
“They didn’t know I was here,” he forced out.
The armour covering him squeezed at his remark, and his breaths shallowed as he fought for air. His mistress paused before him, cocking her head. Waves of gossamer brown hair fell across her exposed shoulders, and her green eyes blazed, causing the forest to groan behind them.
Vivian Marwood had the beauty and grace of a goddess. But what lingered beneath truly terrified him.
Fuck. There’d once been a time when he didn’t believe in the gods. That was a lifetime ago. Now he knew they were real. They walked among the humans like demons.
“They’ve abandoned you twice, Samuel. Watch as they sail away, to their putrid, grey island. They never cared for you, otherwise they would’ve saved you the first time.” Vivian smiled, her lips stretching as she stepped closer.
Her bitter, rosy scent washed over him, and the power of the armour pressed down, wringing every drop of his humanity. Each day it dwindled, growing smaller inside of him. He’d forgotten so much of his life already, of his dreams and desires.
All he knew was darkness. Cold darkness and dread.
“Have we not given you so much? Have I not given you enough?” Her arms circled around his neck as she pressed her slender body flush with his. She batted her long lashes, casting lines of shadows across her high cheekbones.
Damn, she was pretty. Her beauty had captivated Samuel once, drawing him into her clutches as he’d tried to navigate his new waking nightmare of Barron’s personal guard.
Until he discovered how dark she was inside. A carbon copy of her husband.
“Aye, mistress.” Lifeless and flat was all Samuel could manage now. He couldn’t even remember what his original voice sounded like.
“Say it, darling. I want to hear it.” Her silken tones caused cold, prickling shivers to race down his spine. She was no goddess, but a siren. A sailor’s worst nightmare.
“You’ve given me everything, mistress.” He swallowed his fear as Vivian lifted onto her toes, placing a cool kiss upon his chapped lips. She continued, her tongue flicking out as she pressed herself into Samuel’s body, groaning as she fisted his braided hair.
He remained a statue. Incapable of feeling anything as his internal light dimmed further.
Something within him cracked as a foghorn sounded and the ocean waves crested, causing the ship of mages to sail further away, past South Wharf Station, until it was a dot on the horizon.
A dot so small, it equalled all Samuel had left in this world.
“Are you not a mage?” he said through gritted teeth, as if every syllable cost his life. “Is this war not for the benefit of mages?”
Vivian became utterly still and she stepped back, her gaze narrowing. Regret filled Samuel, mirroring the metal collar wrapped around his throat, severing his oxygen.
The Emerald Forest rumbled, vines looping over his legs and feet as her eyes rippled with power.
“I’m an outcast,” her voice became otherworldly.
A tone that Samuel could admit made him a coward.
He dropped to a knee instantly, bowing his head.
“I’m on the side of the people. My husband may have a warped vision of the future, but I will ensure he is steered into the righteous path of the Dark One. ”
“Aye, mistress, I-I apologise,” Samuel stumbled over his words, his heart hammering as she approached, her bare feet padding the ground.
Her green gown swished around her ankles, and she laughed as she trailed her fingers through Samuel’s hair.
The armour squeezed again, sucking the life from every pore, every fibre of his being.
A damp, cool sensation blanketed him, and his mind fogged as Vivian lifted her leg, placing her foot on his knee, exposing the supple skin of her thigh as she pulled her gown back.
“Now, please me, before my husband returns,” his mistress commanded, just as she had many nights before. “We return to Ironwharf Outpost tomorrow, and I want you all to myself tonight.”
Samuel could barely speak with the armour suffocating him, so instead he brushed the exposed skin of her leg with his fingers.
Vivian smiled, lifting her skirts higher.
A swirl of tattoo peeked from the cuffed armour across his wrists and Samuel frowned, unable to recall what ink covered his skin.
What had he felt so passionate about to mark his skin permanently?
“Focus,” Vivian ordered. “I want everything you can give.”
Samuel exhaled as he trailed his fingers higher, up her inner thigh.
She practically purred, putty in his hands as he explored her skin.
Except, it wasn’t exploration. It was like designing a map repeatedly, re-tracing the same lines over and over again until he knew every inch of flesh intimately.
He could unwillingly wander the plains of her skin with his eyes closed.
And that’s what he did. With a final exhale of dread, Samuel shut his eyes, summoning a pair of orange-ember irises to his mind, framed by an intricate circle and flaming red hair, as he dove into darkness’ cruel mistress.