Chapter 44 Are Monsters MadeFound?
Are Monsters Made Or Found?
Desdemona
P
iphany’s sitting against the wall, her head dangling over her shoulder. But she’s alive, though not for long. I don’t know how else this will end.
I shout her name, and she jerks up, her head swaying. It makes me realize I’m getting a bit dizzy, too, but I have enough power to get where I need to go. Then, Lucian and I can sleep.
“Where’s the nearest Folk in the kingdom?” I ask.
Piphany sputters. “Th–the Folk, they’re— There’s a battle. Most are employed.”
I play with the sensation of her blood moving through her body, reaching her heart. She gasps, and I bite my tongue. “And where’s the closest one?”
“K–Kai,” she says, choking. I release her heart slightly so she can speak. “He’s here. For meetings.”
Lucian narrows his eyes—he doesn’t know what I’m planning, but he trusts me. I can see it.
“Bring us to him,” I say.
Piphany nods, rising to her feet and stepping forward. I step beside her, clutching her heart to make sure she knows there’s no room to screw me over. Piphany makes a low, choking sound, and I release her slightly so I can move forward easier.
We don’t go far above the dungeon—we’re still underground when we knock on a door. Kai opens it, his gaze bloodshot and tired.
He steps back when he sees me. I squint at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He liked me once, when I wore a lot of glamour and looked like a Folk. But now he’s looking at me like there’s something wrong.
I haven’t spoken to him since his memory of me was erased.
Piphany stands in front of me, and I shove her inside the room—somewhere between a bedroom and study—making sure she stays ahead. I step forward with a hand on her lower back.
“What are you doing here?” Kai asks. His gaze lingers on me longer than it should. As I step closer, he steps back again, faster this time.
His gaze keeps catching on me, like he’s trying not to stare. Like he’s scared. It’s such an odd reaction, I feel like it could be a hallucination. I glance around the room, searching for green eyes, anything amiss.
There’s nothing. This is real. Everything has been.
I take a deep breath.
Then Kai drags his attention to Piphany. That’s probably what has him so tripped up.
“We need your help,” I say.
Kai’s movements are slow and languid as he turns to Lucian, his voice low. “You have to get out of Ilyria.”
“I’m trying,” Lucian says.
“We need you to glamour us so we can get out.” I glance at Lucian for approval. He seems to like my plan so far.
He offers a soft nod.
Kai looks between Lucian and Piphany, barely glancing at me. Then, pointing at Piphany, he asks, “How did you get her on board?”
I don’t answer. Kai is the future King of Ilyria, and I can’t exactly tell him I threatened the current queen’s advisor.
Lucian steps forward, eyes narrowing as he asks, “Why are you wearing a glamour?”
“I’m not,” Kai says.
“Around your eye.” Lucian gestures in the area.
“I’m not.” Kai slams a pen on his desk and holds his hands out. “I’ll glamour you both.”
Lucian clenches his jaw, but I grab Kai’s hand. There’s only a little left to lose—and this prince can’t take any of it.
“Make me look like Piphany,” I say.
Kai meets my gaze, a slight smirk crossing his lips. I think, at least. It’s gone so quick.
The glamour magic moves through me like putty. My blood turns to gelatin. I expect to see ripples along my skin, but there’s nothing. All I feel is a moment of stagnation. For just a single second, my body feels like it’s made of glass—completely see-through. Then my blood returns to liquid.
When I open my eyes, I feel no different. But my hair, down to my waist, glistens like snow, and my right hand has disappeared. I can still feel it beneath the glamour, but no one can see it.
Kai’s eyes are entirely bloodshot as he glances at Piphany, saying, “I can take care of her for you.”
I seize Piphany’s heartbeat. The connection between us grows like a tether of blood. Pressure builds in her chest. Her heart beats like it knows exactly what’s about to happen. She meets my gaze, her eyes wide. I almost stop—because she reminds me of the pain in my chest.
But with the tightening of my will, her heart explodes, the mess contained inside her.
The vigorous beating of my heart slows. A croak rises in my throat, but I stifle it.
It’s nearly silent when it escapes. I don’t reach for my chest. I don’t take a deep breath.
But I rest my hands on the desk nearby, needing help to stay upright.
The hand is invisible, but I can still use it.
“That’d be great,” I say, catching my breath but refraining from showing my pain as I meet Kai’s gaze.
He glances at Piphany, his eyes wide, but not with fear, I don’t think. I can hardly read him.
Lucian steps out of the room first, and I follow. The corpse lies pristine and pale on the floor behind us.
Lucian’s midnight-blue eyes are gone. The glamour turned them the same bright bluish-white as the rest of the Lyrians. The rest of his features are similar—dark hair, sharp jaw, and cheekbones. But they’re not configured right. They’re not Lucian.
I wonder what I look like in Piphany’s body. Is there any part of me shining through?
“We need the Soul Ruby before the glamour runs out,” I say. If Kai is strong, we have three days at most.
“We do,” Lucian breathes.
“I have a plan. We need rest first.”
Lucian looks at me, a small smile playing over his unusual features. Despite it not being his face, it’s his smile—the one I’ve seen him wear countless times because of me.
For the first time in my life, it feels like someone believes in me.
So I smile right back.
?
Lucian picks a dark, empty room for us to rest in. I can’t see anything as I lean against the wall. We’re still far underground, but something pounds against the castle exterior—a muffled thudding.
I ask what it is, and Lucian says snow. There’s always a chill in the air here, but tonight feels different.
“Is it normally this loud?” I ask.
He shrugs, like it isn’t loud at all.
As I lower myself to the cold floor, I rest an arm under my head and notice liquid in my ear. I press a finger to it, and more continues to drip.
I bring my finger beneath my nose. It smells like blood. Pressure still beats against my chest—the remnants of Piphany’s life. Is that what the blood is, too?
I’m trying not to focus on it, when Lucian whispers, “Desdemona?”
“Yeah?” I try to find his gaze in the dark, but I can’t.
“I’m really glad you’re all right.”
“I could say the same.”
Somehow, his hand finds mine and clasps it hard. “I don’t know what I would’ve done…” he trails off, his voice dropping.
He cares again. But it’s not like anything could actually happen to me, at least not in terms of death.
“We’re always in danger,” I say.
“If Leiana was the one— When she brought you to me…” Again, he doesn’t finish.
“What?” I whisper, the cold from the wall seeping into my shoulders through my clothes. “What else has she done to you?”
Lucian swallows, loud enough for me to hear. “The worst… is connecting my subconscious to a prisoner’s before killing him.” His hand moves slightly in mine, and I realize he’s shuddering, his pulse racing beneath my thumb.
I shudder, too. That’s the same as dying, isn’t it?
“Gods,” I mutter. “Why?”
Lucian’s quiet for a moment. Then, “She wanted your name, and I wouldn’t give it to her.”
“My name?”
“She wanted to find you after the Gerner. I think she saw you there.”
I shake my head. That was before anything happened between us. We’d danced together, sure, but it was even before I killed the soldier.
“Why would you do that for me?” I ask. “We hardly knew one another.”
“I wanted your magic to take me to The Void.” He sighs. “Though, I reckon it was more than that in the end, no?”
“More than that, like what?”
He holds my hand tighter. “The same reason I could never give you up, even when I didn’t remember.”
My heart tightens in my chest, the pain of Piphany’s explosion now distant. He couldn’t give me up before? He really fell for me a second time.
I did, too. Caring for him was the last thing I wanted to do.
But here we are.
“You know I don’t need a reason to kill people.
Not anymore.” My gaze flicks up, failing to find his in the darkness.
I stroke my thumb over his knuckles, dried and chapped, dead skin flicking off on my fingers.
My thumb pauses as I say, “But I would kill her a thousand times over for what she did to you.”
Lucian holds my hand tight, his touch cold—almost rigid. It’s nothing like the warmth in his voice when he mutters, “You’re a romantic? I didn’t know that yet.”
“Eh,” I say. “Murder doesn’t take much.”
“I’d rather you alive than her dead a thousand times.”
“After everything she’s done?” I whisper.
I want her dead—for him. How could he not?
His voice is just as soft as he says, “After everything you’ve done, yes. I care for you more than I hate her.”
His fingers tighten around mine—so tight my bones press together. But it doesn’t hurt at all. It feels right.
I smile a little. “Well what have I done?”
“You’ve made me feel again—exactly what I felt when I knew you.”
I glance down into the pitch black. “I don’t know about exactly.”
“I looked for you in every room,” he whispers. “I never wanted you to walk away. The mere thought of being with anyone else was repulsive.” His thumb presses once against my hand. “It’s you,” he says simply. “It was always you. So yeah, Des. Exactly.”
I don’t mean to grip his hand so tightly—to want him close, to let him in. For a moment, I forget how to guard myself.
It was always me.
But if that’s true, there’s no escape. No version where we can walk away. The reason I kept my distance before he remembered me is the same reason I have to now. So I pull my hand away and fake a smile he can’t see.
Say, “Then you’re in trouble, Prince,” and hide the catch in my breath.
But I imagine his eyes searching for mine when he replies, “I have been for a while, Althenia.”
The muffled sound of falling snow grows louder, keeping me from having to say anything at all.
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