Chapter 11 #2
“I rescued you from a nameless woman in a time centuries from this one. You should be grateful. She couldn’t possibly have offered you what I’ve given you. What I offer you now.”
Skye felt something shred inside her, a fundamental loss of something she’d believed unshakeable. Somewhere in some distant time, she’d had a mother and a father. A real father. “I’m afraid you made a huge mistake. I won’t be part of this. Any of this.”
His expression darkened. “You will do exactly as you’re told. Exactly what I’ve groomed you for.”
“No.” She stood straighter, even as her insides trembled. “Not anymore.”
He came within a foot of her, and for a moment she thought he might strike her. His jaw tightened, and his hands flexed at his sides. Then, with visible effort, he seemed to master himself.
“Your defiance is noted. Although pointless.” He moved back to his desk, his movements precise and controlled. “You’ll come to see reason in time. You always do.”
“I won’t.” Skye’s voice cracked. “I can’t stay here. Not after this. You’re not the man I thought you were. You’re a stranger. How could I have been so blind all these years?”
“Blind?” He looked up sharply. “I gave you everything. This entire fortress has been yours, every comfort, every desire, every book you’ve ever lost yourself in—all of it came from my efforts, my risks, my vision. And this is the gratitude I receive?”
“I trusted you.” Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I believed everything you told me. I defended you to Noah when he questioned your lies. I chose you over—” She stopped, unable to finish the thought.
“Over the boy?” Her father’s voice turned cold. “How touching. Tell me, daughter, what do you truly know about him? About any of them? They come here seeking to use my resources, to exploit what I’ve built, and you’re ready to throw away your entire future for a stranger’s desperate cause?”
“He’s a man, not a boy. And at least Noah respected me enough to tell me the truth.” The words came out before she could stop them. “And he’s never pretended to be something he’s not.”
The Keeper’s face went still and expressionless in a way that frightened her more than his anger. “I see you need time to think clearly. Away from his influence.”
Alarm spiked through Skye’s chest. “What do you mean?”
He moved to the door and pulled it open. Austin stood in the corridor beyond, as if he’d been waiting for the summons. Two guards flanked him.
Where had he come from? Why was he here now? Had he followed her? Had her father somehow silently summoned him? Nausea rose in her throat.
“She will need confinement,” her father said calmly. “For her own protection until she can see the error of her ways.”
“No!” Skye backed away from the door, but Austin was already moving into the room, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and false sympathy.
“Come now, Skye. This doesn’t have to be difficult.” His hand closed around her upper arm with deceptive gentleness. “Your father only wants what’s best for you.”
She tried to pull away, but his grip tightened. “Let go of me!”
“Father—” She turned toward the Keeper, searching his face for any sign of the man she thought she knew. “Please. Don’t do this.”
His expression remained impassive. “Your friends will be sent on their way. They have no usefulness here beyond depleting our resources and have only served to twist your mind and alienate you from your true purpose. Perhaps their absence will help you remember where your loyalty belongs.”
“No! Please! You can’t—what about Emily?! She needs help! If we abandon her, she’ll die.”
“That,” her father stated, “is not my concern.”
The finality in his voice shattered something inside her. This man, this stranger wearing her father’s face, truly didn’t care. Not about Emily. Or Noah’s desperation. Or the family fighting so hard to save a child’s life.
Perhaps not even about her, other than her ability to serve as a means to an end.
Maybe he’d never cared about anything but his empire. His legacy.
His power.
Austin pulled her toward the door, and she stumbled, her legs unsteady beneath her. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere quiet,” Austin said, his voice almost gentle. “Where you can think things through without outside influence.”
“Please.” She looked back at her father one last time, hating the desperation in her own voice. “Please don’t do this. We can talk, discuss—”
“There’s nothing to discuss until you’re ready to be reasonable.” He’d already turned back to his desk, dismissing her as if she were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “Perhaps a few days alone will help you come to your senses.”
Days? Days would be too late for Emily.
The guards fell into step behind them as Austin led her from the study. Skye’s mind raced, searching for options, for any way to escape or fight back. But Austin’s grip was unrelenting, and the guards’ presence eliminated any hope of breaking free.
Where was Keir? It was unlike him not to be near. Had they done something to him? Please God, keep him from harm.
They descended deeper into the fortress than she’d ever been, even when exploring as a child.
Austin led her down narrow stairs that twisted endlessly downward.
The air grew colder, damper, carrying the musty scent of stone and age.
Torchlight flickered against walls that wept with moisture, and Skye realized with growing horror just how isolated this place was.
“Here.” Austin stopped before a heavy wooden door reinforced with iron bands. One of the guards produced a key, the lock grinding as it turned.
The chamber beyond was small, barely larger than her wardrobe-press. A narrow cot sat against one wall, a chamber pot in the corner. A single torch bracket near the door provided the only light.
“No.” Skye dug her heels in, but Austin was stronger. He propelled her forward into the room with enough force that she stumbled against the cot.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. “But your father is right. You need time to clear your head.”
“Austin, please—”
“Rest. Think about what you’re throwing away. What we could build together.” He stepped back into the corridor, his hand on the door. “I’ll come check on you tomorrow. Perhaps by then you’ll be more receptive to reason.”
The door slammed shut. The lock scraped. Footsteps receded up the stairs, taking the light of the guards’ torches with them.
Skye stood frozen in the dim chamber, the single torch casting dancing shadows across the damp walls. Slowly, numbly, she sank onto the cot, her legs finally giving out beneath her.
The silence pressed in around her, broken only by the distant drip of water somewhere in the darkness. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the day above.
Everything she’d believed about her life, about her father, about her place in the world—all of it had been built on lies. He hadn’t wanted a child. He’d wanted an heir. A tool to extend his power and control across time itself.
And when she’d proven inconvenient to that plan, when she’d dared to question, to resist, he’d locked her away as casually as he might store an unwanted artifact.
I’m not his daughter. I never was.
The realization brought a sob rising in her throat, but she choked it back. Crying wouldn’t help. Wouldn’t change anything. Wouldn’t free her or save Emily or—
Noah.
His face rose in her mind, strong and determined, his eyes holding hers on the tower that night. The way he looked at her in the library when she finally accepted the truth about the portals. The trust in his expression, the warmth of his hand pressing hers to his chest.
They’re as real as I am. As what I feel for you.
As what she felt for him. As what they’d shared in that kiss. And now she’d never see him again and he’d never know why.
Her father would send them away. Noah and his family would be forced to leave and take Emily with them.
And she would be trapped here in this darkness until she either bent to her father’s will or—
Or what? Remained locked away forever? Married off to Austin against her will? Became another tool in the Keeper’s collection as long as she proved useful? And when she was not, would she be as expendable and replaceable as any of his discards?
Skye pulled her knees to her chest, resting her forehead against them as the full weight of her situation crashed over her. Somehow, they’d made sure Keir wouldn’t know where she was. Her father had made sure of that, choosing guards loyal only to him to escort her to this isolated cell.
No one was coming to rescue her.
No one even knew where to look.
The torch flickered, sending shadows skittering across the walls like living things. Skye watched them dance, her mind numb with shock and grief and a desperate, clawing fear she’d never experienced before.
She’d been so certain of her world, of her place in it. So confident that her father’s love, whatever his methods, was genuine. That beneath the strict rules and careful control, he wanted what was best for her.
But Noah had seen the truth long before she had. He’d questioned, challenged, pushed her to look beyond the comfortable lies she’d wrapped herself in.
And she’d fought him. Defended her father. Chosen blind loyalty over uncomfortable truths.
Until it was too late.
Fresh tears threatened, and this time she didn’t fight them.
They slipped down her cheeks, hot and bitter as she mourned not just her lost freedom but the father she’d never really had.
The life she’d believed was hers. The future she thought she was building with every bit of expertise she gained, every book she read, every hour she spent trying to be worthy of him.
All an illusion. A pretty cage cleverly disguised as love.
But even now, even locked away in the darkness with her world shattered around her, one certainty remained. One truth, free of any pretense.
Noah.
The way his voice softened when he spoke of Emily. The desperation in his eyes when he pleaded for help for her. The gentleness of his touch on the tower, the honesty in his admission that he cared for her despite every reason not to.
I care about you, Skye. That’s God’s truth. I want very much to know everything about you. To see where this might lead.
She’d felt it too. Had been feeling it since the moment their eyes first met at the fortress gates. That pull, that recognition, as if some part of her had been waiting for him her entire life.
And now she’d lost him before she’d ever really had the chance to understand what that meant.
The torch guttered lower, and Skye realized with a spike of panic that when it burned out, she’d be left in complete darkness. How long until Austin returned? Hours? What if he didn’t return tomorrow? Would her father leave her here long enough to break her spirit entirely?
How long could she hold out?
She thought of her library and the books that had been both her teacher and her refuge for so long. All those stories of brave heroes and daring rescues, of love conquering impossible odds. She’d read those fantasies, never imagining she might need that kind of courage herself.
But the danger in fairy tales ended after the inevitable rescue when you closed the book, put it back on the shelf and returned to your own safe existence. Real life, she was learning, was not safe and offered no such easy escape.
She closed her eyes, breathing deeply despite the musty air, trying to calm the panic threatening to overwhelm her. She needed to think. To plan. There had to be a way out of this, some weakness in her father’s control she could exploit.
But all she could see was Emily’s pale face. Noah’s desperate hope. The family that had risked everything to get here, only to be turned away because Skye had been too blind, too loyal, too stubborn to see the truth when it was staring her in the face.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though there was no one to hear. “I’m so sorry.”
The torch flickered again, its light fading. Soon the darkness would be complete.
And she’d be alone with the ashes of everything she’d ever believed.