Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
For a moment, the six of us just stand there in the middle of Orion’s throne room. My heart is still pounding in my ears and my mind is still in survival mode, so for a while, I can barely even process that we’re safe now. That we’re free.
Then Draven wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug.
“Are you okay?” he whispers into my hair.
And everything just comes crashing back over me.
Because, no, I’m really not okay. My thigh and shoulder still ache from where Jessina stabbed me, my brain has barely processed that I didn’t die a few minutes ago from Bane’s ice spikes, and my entire soul is screaming at me to use my magic now that the iron collar is off.
But I don’t want to tell Draven that. Especially not when there are other people here. So I just nod against his chest and reply, “I am now.”
His arms tighten around me, and he kisses the top of my head. Then he raises his gaze and looks towards the left. There is a light hint of teasing in his voice when he says, “Took you long enough.”
“Easy for you to say, dragon shifter,” the Dryad Queen replies. “As opposed to you, we can’t fly. We might be able to take certain shortcuts underground, but we still need to actually move across the ground.”
“Stop,” Lavendera hisses.
Pulling back from Draven’s embrace, I find her shaking her head hard and blinking.
“It’s too crowded,” she growls, still whipping her head back and forth. “Stop it, stop it, stop it.”
That makes Grey leap into motion. Since he is the only member of the Unseelie Court currently present, he takes it upon himself to offer them rooms to stay in if they need privacy, which they accept.
While Draven slides a comforting hand down my arm, I turn to Isera, who is still staring at the space where the portal used to be.
“You chose to save us instead of killing Bane,” I say.
A jolt goes through her, and she snaps her gaze to me, looking as if I have just caught her doing something she shouldn’t.
Cocking my head, I study her. “I thought you hated them more than you cared about us.”
“I do,” she replies, but red flushes her cheeks and she glances away awkwardly.
I smile. “Thank you.”
She clears her throat self-consciously.
Since I’m pretty sure that she will combust if I keep this up, I give her an easy way out and tell her, “You should probably head down to Haldia too and get those cuts healed.”
Her gaze darts in the direction of the healer’s house, even though she can’t see it from all the way in here, and an expression that I can’t read settles on her face. Orion is no doubt down there right now. Hopefully, his eye can still be saved.
“Yeah,” Isera replies.
After one more glance at me and Draven, she starts towards the door.
I turn back to my mate, and a soft smile spreads across my lips. “I knew you would find me.”
His golden eyes gleam in the glittering faelights as he slides a gentle hand along my jaw and cups my cheek. “I told you. I will always find you, little rebel.”
“Good thing we were able to restore our mate bond.”
He smiles and draws his thumb over my bottom lip. “Good thing, indeed.”
It wasn’t until the Icehearts moved us to a new location for the third time that I finally realized how Draven was planning to find me.
Through our mate bond. There is always a slight tug pulling us towards each other, which means that we can feel which direction the other person is in.
It’s how he found me and saved me when people were trying to kill me in the past. So if he were to just keep following that sensation this time as well, it would eventually lead him to me.
I don’t actually know if the Icehearts are aware that Draven and I are fated mates or not.
They might have just been moving us frequently to stop Hana from telling us where we are.
Regardless, it prevented Draven from locating me and getting there in time while we were in captivity.
But he was finally able to catch up to us outside the pocket reality, since we were in there for so long.
“What happened?” Draven asks, his intense eyes scrutinizing me as if looking for signs of injury. When he sees the holes in my fighting leathers, his gaze darkens like an oncoming thunderstorm. “They hurt you?”
And suddenly, all the pain I’ve been trying to block out hits me all at once. The stab wounds. The way Jessina taunted me about killing my parents. The days I’ve endured without even a drop of that comforting feeling from my magic.
My body, which has been running on pure survival instincts for the past hour or so, threatens to start shaking again as my soul screams for that wonderful relief I’ve been denied for so long now.
Squeezing my hands into fists, I try to prevent them from trembling and force myself to keep my voice steady as I reply, “I’ll tell you everything later. First, I should go and see Haldia too.”
Draven nods, immediately going into problem-solving mode. “Of course, I’ll go with you.”
“No!” It comes out too forcefully and too quickly. Clearing my throat, I try to compose myself again. “I’ll meet you back in our room afterwards.”
There is a confused frown on his handsome face as he looks down at me. My heart pounds while panic crackles through my nerves. I shouldn’t have refused in such a hurry. I should have said it more normally. Now, he might get suspicious.
“Are you sure?” he asks, his brow still furrowed.
“Yes.” I nod. “I just… I just need a minute to myself. To process.”
Understanding washes over his features, and he strokes my cheek before leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”
My heart twists painfully. Oh Goddess, I really don’t deserve this man. And I hate lying to him. But there is just one thing I need to do. Alone.
Biting my lip, I try to stop myself from breaking down right then and there. Instead, I just nod before quickly pulling back and turning towards the door so that Draven can’t read the lies on my face.
With shame coiling in my chest, I hurry away from the throne room and my wonderful mate. But instead of heading down to the city to Haldia’s house, I run through the beautiful palace and towards the stairs to the dungeons underneath it.
When I reach the door to the stairs, I find two guards standing on either side of it.
A whimper of desperation almost escapes my lips. Goddess damn it, I need to get down there.
Walking up to the guards, I blurt out, “Look, I know this is going to sound strange, but I really need to get down into the dungeons. And I know that you—”
The guard on the left grabs the handle and opens the door.
I blink in stunned shock.
Beyond the door, the stairs lead downwards to the dim light of the dungeons below.
Giving my head a quick shake to clear it, I look between the guards’ faces. “You’re just… going to let me in?”
“You have clearance,” replies the guard who is holding the door open.
“I do?” Frowning in utter confusion, I just stare back at him for a second. “Since when?”
“His Majesty granted you clearance a few days ago. After that night when you were locked down here as well. He said that you could enter and do as you wish, if you ever came to ask about it.”
My heart squeezes hard. Orion. He knew. He anticipated this. And he gave me a way to handle it without hurting innocents.
Then panic shoots up my spine. Oh Goddess, he knows far too much.
Thankfully, he still hasn’t told anyone else.
Since I don’t trust myself to speak right now, I just give the guards a nod and then hurry down the stone steps while double-checking that I’m still keeping all of my emotions on my side of the mate bond so that Draven can’t feel what I feel.
The temperature drops as I run the final distance down into the dim stone dungeon.
Three male Unseelie fae are locked in the cells down here.
I just pick the closest one, summon a black flame of despair, and slam it right into his chest.
Pleasure floods my entire body.
After the long absence, the feeling is so intense that a moan actually slips from my lips. My knees buckle and I crash down on the ground as that incredible feeling of comfort and warmth washes over me like a perfect summer wave.
Kneeling there on the stone floor of the dungeon, I keep increasing and decreasing that black flame of despair in the prisoner’s chest until all I can feel is that perfect pleasure. It thrums inside my soul like golden sparkles. And suddenly everything feels okay again.
With that comfort wrapping around me like a warm hug, I can finally breathe properly again. There is no grief. No regret. No pain. I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.
When the prisoner starts sobbing in despair, I at last force myself to sever the connection.
Cold harsh reality crashes back into me.
Panicked, I summon another black flame of despair and slam it into the next prisoner.
Those steel bands that had started to form around my chest immediately disappear as pleasure once again fills me. I drag in a deep breath. Just one more time. I just needed to do it one more time in order to make the transition smoother. Now, I’ll be fine.
But the moment I break the connection once more, my mind immediately begs me to do it again. Just one more time.
So I do.
And then I do it again. And again.
The prisoners in the cells cry and shake and squirm on the ground as I force emotion after emotion into their bodies just to feel that comforting warmth one more time. And every time I do it, it gets harder and harder to release it. Harder and harder not to do it again.
All of them beg for mercy, saying that they only raped someone or killed someone. That they don’t deserve this hell. But they do.
And regardless, I can’t stop.
Because every time I do, all the grief and regret that I’m drowning in after Orion’s twelve-hour torture session just feel heavier and heavier compared to the wonderful sense of comfort that my magic is giving me.
Eventually, their hearts give out.
Cold grief and searing regret crash over me like a landslide. And this time, there is no one left to use my magic on. So I just curl up on my side on the stone floor and wrap my arms around myself.
My entire body shakes. My heart feels like it’s getting crushed and my lungs feel like they’re being strangled. I can’t breathe. I can’t function. All I can feel are those awful emotions that hit me like a vicious beating.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I just lie there on the floor, feeling like something is punching and kicking the life out of me. I feel like I’m going to die. Without that comforting pleasure from my magic, I’m going to die.
But I don’t.
After a while, the intensity of my emotions starts to fade slightly.
Gradually, my mind is able to sort through the panic and recognize that I’m not dying.
The grief and regret still pulse inside me, but I manage to force them back to the corners of my mind again.
And that acute need for my magic decreases into just a steady hunger.
It’s there. But it’s not taking over all my other thoughts.
Dragging in a deep breath, I push myself up to my knees and then run my fingers through my messy hair. My gaze drifts to the three criminals in the cells. Their lifeless eyes stare out at me, still wide with panic.
My stomach turns.
Oh Goddess, I’m going to be sick.
Never again, I promise myself. I will never overindulge like this again. I will never lose control of myself like this again. I will never let it get this bad again.
Shame and self-disgust twist like cold snakes in my chest as I stare at the three dead people before me while I stagger to my feet.
I went too far today. I know that. But this is the last time.
I will never do something like this again.