Chapter 18
NYRA
T he heavy thuds reverberated through the walls, making my head ache. I groaned and grabbed a pillow, pressing it over my ears in a futile attempt to drown out the noise.
I had barely slept the night before, my mind racing with thoughts of Dacre and the conflicting emotions that surged within me.
I was more irritated by the fact that I somehow continued to forget how much of a jerk he was until he proved it to me over and over.
But when I closed my eyes, it was his father I saw with his hand still wrapped around my neck, so I forced them open and let my thoughts linger back to him.
They always found their way back to him.
“Wren,” I called her name, but she didn’t move an inch at the sound.
The knocking hadn’t stopped.
I tossed my pillow aside and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The room was dimly lit by the single firelight lantern outside our window, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
I wrapped my arms around myself to stave off the cold air as chill bumps formed on my skin.
I stumbled toward the door and jerked it open to stop the insistent knocking.
Dacre’s hand was held in midair, and I scowled. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with him.
I leaned against the doorframe and caught his stormy eyes taking in my wrinkled shirt all the way down to my bare feet. He raised an eyebrow in disapproval. “Do you always answer your door like this?”
“What?” I breathed out and motioned toward the window. “I’m going to assume that the sun hasn’t yet risen since the firelight is still dim. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to fix my hair before answering the door.”
“I’m not talking about your hair.” His gaze fell to my legs and lingered there for far too long.
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I dropped my hands and tugged at the edge of my shirt that barely reached mid-thigh. “Well, I wasn’t expecting visitors,” I snapped, my irritation getting the best of me.
When he didn’t answer and his gaze still hadn’t left my bare thighs, I huffed. “Is there something you need, or can I go back to bed?”
“You don’t get the luxury of sleeping in when your training is going so poorly.”
“You’re such an ass.”
His gaze finally snapped up to meet mine. “So you’ve told me.”
“I believe I also told you that I will find someone else to train me.”
He braced himself against the doorframe, but he didn’t let his gaze waver from me. “And how is that going for you?”
“Wren’s going to train me.”
“No. She isn’t.” His voice was low and dangerously calm, an ominous tone that sent a shiver down my spine. “Get dressed and meet me on the training grounds. We’re starting in ten.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He simply turned away and headed down the hall as if I wouldn’t dare disobey him.
I watched him walk away, my fists clenched at my sides as he did so. The audacity of him, thinking he could control every aspect of my life.
I had already lived that life with my father, and I had escaped it.
While Dacre hadn’t shown me the same cruelty as my father, I was still caged here. I was still under someone else’s control.
I closed the door and soundlessly dressed as my anger continued to build. Wren didn’t so much as change her breathing as I tugged on my boots and slid my dagger into its sheath.
When I reached the training room, Dacre was already there in the dimly lit room, his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. My blood boiled at the sight of him, but instead of letting my anger consume me, I took a deep breath and forced myself to remain calm.
“Finally.” His voice dripped with arrogance as he pushed off the wall.
“There’s no one else here.” I arched an eyebrow, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “It’s still dark.”
“We’re not training here,” he replied without looking at me.
He moved farther into the cave where an assortment of weapons were stacked against the wall, and I followed him.
“What?”
Dacre grabbed a bow and held it out in my direction. I took it before I could think better of it.
“You’re too slow with a dagger and hand to hand. If you’re going to benefit this rebellion in any way, then I need to give you a fighting chance.”
If I was going to benefit the rebellion. Not survive it.
My neck was still sore from his father’s hand, and I knew that he couldn’t see past the bruises when he looked at me.
“Take off the vest and tuck your dagger into your waistband.”
“What?” I looked at him and for the first time noticed that he wasn’t wearing his vest or the usual array of weapons that he normally kept on him.
He looked so normal.
“Can you just do what I ask for once without questioning me?” he grumbled as he continued to look through the weapons.
“Of course.” I slid my vest over my head before pulling out my dagger and tucking it into the back of my trousers as he instructed. I felt bare without the now familiar weight of my vest on my chest, but I pulled the bow over my shoulder, the string stretching to my hip, and took a deep breath.
The weight of the weapon felt foreign against my back, but I met Dacre’s intense gaze head-on.
Dacre walked over to a stack of arrows and selected one, examining it carefully before placing it inside the quiver with several more. “The bow requires patience and precision, but it can buy you time more than almost any other weapon.”
I nodded even though I was sure I would be as terrible with a bow as I was a dagger. I ran my fingers across the thick string at my chest. It seemed so simple yet so intricate.
Dacre lifted the quiver over his shoulder before he waved me forward, deeper into the cave. It was the same direction his father had taken us the day before.
The memory made a chill run down my spine. I felt more secure down here. I felt safer in the hidden city of my enemy than I did up on the land I had known my entire life.
“Have you ever shot before?” Dacre asked, breaking me out of my reverie.
“I’ve never even held a bow before,” I admitted, feeling a flicker of embarrassment wash over me.
He sighed heavily, as if my answer was an inconvenience to him.
The air grew colder and more damp as we descended into the depths, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the walls. Dacre led me to a secluded area, where a single beam of light filtered in through a crack in the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the ground.
“Are we going up?” I asked, and I couldn’t hide the shakiness of my voice.
“We are.” Dacre turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “We can get much better practice up there than we can down here.”
He climbed up onto a large rock before reaching his hand out for me. I ignored it, and instead, tucked my fingers into the groove where I had just seen him do moments before.
I hoisted myself up onto the rock and there was a twinge of pain in my arm. Dacre had healed it to the point that the injury was almost completely unnoticeable, but there was still a soft ache that wouldn’t let me forget what happened yesterday.
It had put a steady fear in my chest I couldn’t get to go away.
As I climbed up next to him, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, and focused on Dacre’s instructions as he pushed open the rock in the ceiling and pulled himself up.
I tried to do exactly as he just did, but my body wouldn’t allow me the strength to do so. Dacre reached down, careful of my injuries, and pulled me up. I blinked over and over as the light of the rising sun blinded me.
Dacre moved the rock back in place before making sure it was covered once again with moss and leaves until it was almost impossible to spot .
We were at the edge of the forest, and I could smell the deep saltiness of the sea just beyond us.
My heart raced as I stood in the sunlight, taking in our surroundings. We were so close to the kingdom, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of urgency to move.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I toyed with the string of the bow that was still strapped over my back.
“Here.” He lifted a dark cloak and tossed it in my direction, which I barely managed to catch. “We need to head to the bridge first, then we’re going to the coast.”
“The bridge?” I squeaked out as anxiety soared inside me.
I hadn’t been back there since the day I was caught.
“Yes.” He nodded as he lifted his own cloak and quickly pulled it on. “It’s the only way to get to the coast, and I have something that needs to be delivered.” He patted his chest absently.
I quickly pulled on the cloak, tucking my hair beneath the fabric as I tried to quell the nausea that rolled through my stomach.
“Let’s go.” He pulled his cloak tighter around him, and I followed closely behind him.
He easily guided us through the forest, even as I tripped over roots, and the sound of sticks snapping under my feet echoed around us.
Dacre’s gaze swept over the forest as we moved, never relaxing for even a moment, and my legs felt weak.
By the time we made it just outside the city, the sun was sitting high in the sky.
We climbed up the hill that kept the city separated from everything beyond, and every step felt worse than the one before.
I shouldn’t do this.
We stepped into one of the alleys, and I let my gaze roam over the people who milled about. Some of them familiar, while others looked like complete strangers.
Dacre navigated the side streets effortlessly, and it only took us a few moments before I could see the palace looming in the distance.
I could see the girl I had once been. I looked up at the castle, and I could still hear my mother’s voice as she told me tales of our kingdom from my bedroom window.
They hadn’t let me go to the bridge then. I hadn’t been able to leave the castle grounds at all, and I used to imagine exactly what the bridge would be like.
My mother’s stories had been the only thing I had.
But her stories were nothing but fables that she told to a girl who was desperate for freedom.