Chapter 7 Isaiah
ISAIAH
Blood loss at this level could cause hallucinations.
I knew that because I saw her every time I opened my eyes.
Her form was lithe and covered in dark battle garbs.
The hilts of twin swords were visible above her shoulders.
Her blonde hair was braided and glinted like captured sunlight.
She looked back at me, her eyes a deep ocean blue that seemed to see into my soul.
The word beautiful wasn’t worthy of her.
Imogen didn’t speak. She never had to me. She couldn’t, so I had no memory of her voice. I wished I could have heard it before I died. In my dreams, it was like silk across my torn flesh, music to deaf ears, a kiss from feather-soft lips.
Pain.
My veins stretched, searching for any blood left in my body, but the well had run dry.
I’d die here in a tomb of my own making, desiccated, without my brother near and without a final goodbye to her.
It was such a silly thing to dream of someone who didn’t know the depths to which they owned you. A silly thing indeed.
MY SKIN STUNG, trying to wake me, alerting me to a presence. I came awake, snapping my eyes open. It wasn’t a phantom here to tease me with what I couldn’t have, but something worse.
Samkiel.
He leaned against the frame of the open cell door, wearing loose-fitting gray and black clothes.
His arms were folded across his powerful chest, and his silver eyes blazed.
He smelled of storm clouds, sex, and her.
My fangs scraped against my chapped, dried lips as a failed hiss left me.
I blamed Samkiel and Dianna for Kaden’s death.
I blamed them all, and the second I was free, I’d spill enough blood to drown the world.
“You’re conscious,” Samkiel said. “It’s been a while since you have been. I am unsure how desiccation works on Ig’Morruthens. Perhaps you are not too far gone yet.”
My blood had dried in puddles and feathery rivulets on the floor around me.
On my knees like I was, the chains pulled my hands above my head.
My arms were beyond numb, and my shoulders no longer screamed in agony unless I moved.
Needles ran through my veins, every bit of me desperate for merely a drop of blood.
Samkiel stepped into my prison, and every cell in my body went on alert.
My eyes widened, but not because of him.
I was focused on the tiny glass he carried.
The swirling red liquid had me on my feet, jaws snapping with the desire to empty it.
Metal cuffs pulled against my worn and battered wrists, scraping against bone, but I did not care.
My hunger was all-consuming. I craved that thick red liquid.
He stopped inches from me without an ounce of fear. “Be still,” he commanded. My pride had long since died, and I listened. I ached to unburden him of his arrogance. “I have questions, and you cannot answer as a worn husk.”
I stayed perfectly still, not moving until he reached out, offering me the cup.
My hand whipped out so fast that some of the blood splattered across it.
I was so desperate for every precious drop that I licked my palm clean after I drained the cup.
It wasn’t enough to even allow my power to raise its head, but my veins did stop burning for a second.
Samkiel crouched just out of reach. He may not fear me, but he did not get closer than he needed to be.
I sat back on my heels, wiping my mouth against my biceps. “Not mortal,” I said.
He shrugged. “There are small pygmy mammals here. That’s all you get.”
A soft huff left me. “Aren’t you afraid it will tarnish your precious image when people find out? How will they toss their panties at your feet when they know you slaughter small animals?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t kill it. There was no need. I’m not like you or Kaden.”
A low growl left my throat when Kaden’s name fell from his lips. He did not care.
“I believe in balance. He may be a little sleepy, but he’ll eat and thrive. I do not kill unless I have to and never innocents.”
I scoffed, leaning back on my haunches. “How noble of you.”
“I have questions that need answers. If you cooperate, perhaps you’ll be fed later tonight. If you do not, I will drain what I just gave you from your throat,” he said calmly. “Understand?”
My body ached in places I never knew I had, but the hunger was the worst. It formed a hollow pit of burning acid in my gut and sent that acid flowing through my veins.
My skin had turned a deep, ashen gray, my body on the verge of desiccation.
The Ig’Morruthen in me was consuming every last resource I had to remain awake and keep me alive.
What he gave me was like a drop of rain in a rolling desert.
“You know,” I said, my body aching for the promise of more blood. “Your palace is haunted.”
Samkiel stood up, his eyes widening and an expression I couldn’t define flickering across his face.
“I saw Veruka a few nights ago. Or perhaps that was just my twisted mind conjuring beings.”
His shoulders slumped as if that was not the answer he wished to hear.
“Maybe it was guilt,” I added.
Samkiel cocked his head ever so slightly. “Do monsters feel guilt?”
“You tell me.” I tried to force a smile, but it was simply too much effort.
“How many known allies does Nismera have? Royals and Otherworldly?”
“Why?” I asked, but then it hit me. “Did you try to visit them? Offer trades of allegiance?”
He said nothing, but I saw the tick in his jaw.
“You did, didn’t you?” A snort left my lips. “How did that go? Hope you didn’t bring your bitch with you.”
His fist connected with my cheek, and my head whipped to the side.
He took a step back, and I sneered, the split across my face burning.
My body tried and failed to mend the wound, but the blood he gave me was insufficient to heal.
I wish my powers worked on him, but the fucker was too strong.
Oh, how I would like to see him explode into bloody goo, but if I had the ability to do so, I would have done it long ago.
“How many?” he insisted
I leaned forward and hissed, “All of them. She has all of them.”
Samkiel’s shoulders sagged as if he’d known that already and just needed to hear it.
He scrubbed his hand through his hair, his eyes lost. I watched him, wondering what went on in his thick fucking skull.
Was he even capable of thoughts that didn’t include her?
He took a deep breath and looked at me again.
“Where is her primary stronghold? I’ve hit a few war camps here and there but found nothing concrete.”
“West,” I paused and smiled at him, “or east. Can’t recall.”
“Can’t recall, or you’re lying to me?” he asked, his hand clenching at his side.
My lips quirked, and I shrugged as best I could with my arms stretched above me.
Samkiel moved so fast that it was nearly impossible to track him.
He was like a ghost, disappearing and then reappearing in another location.
It was as if he were not quite of the physical world.
It reminded me of Mera. When he had fought Kaden and me, he had moved across the battlefield in the same way.
I hadn’t even seen him draw Oblivion. I hadn’t seen it cut through Kaden’s neck.
Kaden just fell and burst into dark ash.
I did not see the blade he called now, but I felt the ablaze dagger at my throat, his silver eyes blinding me in the gloomy cell.
“What did you think you were going to do, pretty boy?” A broken smile crossed my face, and I unflinchingly met his eyes.
“Show up in that obnoxious, glowing tin can and wave your cock around, expecting everyone would bow to you? You’re no better than the rest of us, and you’re bedding the one being they hate more than anything. ”
“I don’t see why,” Samkiel said, pressing the blade so tight against my skin that if I swallowed, it would cut me. “Nismera has you and had Kaden.”
The sound of his name burned more than the blood loss.
The grief I felt hadn’t lessened, and I doubted it ever would.
I remained very still and didn’t say anything for fear of him cutting me.
I couldn’t risk bleeding out what he’d given me.
Samkiel noticed and moved the blade, but only enough to let me speak.
“The difference is that Nismera is more powerful than you,” I finally said.
“More bloodthirsty and cruel. You can’t even kill a stupid fucking animal.
You don’t have the balls to be a conqueror.
She does, and that’s what it will take to reclaim even half of all she’s taken.
Sure, to the people, you’re a god king, great and powerful, sent to free them from her, but to the rulers who are loyal to her, you’re a failure.
They won’t follow you, they don’t respect you, and if you use Oblivion to force them, which we both know you won’t, they will hate you. ”
A cold, harsh laugh exploded from me, the typically smug look on his face melting away. The truth hit harder than any blade.
“You failed, Samkiel. That’s how they see you.
Whatever heroic reputation you spent your youth establishing is long gone here.
You’re not a hero. You’re nothing but a cautionary tale.
When Mera is finished with you and your whore, there won’t even be scriptures left that speak of you.
Your legacy will be forgotten. Just like Unir’s. ”
The blade pressed hard against my skin again.
I wondered if he could take my head off if he just applied a bit more pressure.
His lips thinned into a tight line, his anger nearly visible in the air around us.
But that was what I wanted. I wanted to poke the beast and watch him become violent so he would lash out.
Instead, his anger melted away, and another emotion took its place.
But it was too foreign for me to identify.
I waited for him to rake the blade across my throat, slitting me from ear to ear.
He could just spill whatever I had left onto the dirty floor.
Only he didn’t. With a swish, he returned the dagger to his ring and stood up.
Samkiel tossed one last look at me and walked out, closing the cell door behind him.