Chapter Nineteen
I found Rhael outside, only after checking several places beforehand, that I thought were more likely places for him to be sulking in.
The scene that awaited me was something I had not expected.
He stood shirtless, sword in hand as he swung it towards a wooden combat dummy with such force that he split it in half. The timber cracking like bone.
Sweat slicked his skin, muscles flexing as he swung the sword again and again. Each strike was brutal, driven by something deeper than anger. His hair was loose down his back, free from its usual ponytail as he swung again, the strands sticking to his neck damp and untamed.
For the first time since entering Vaetharyn I saw his wings. Free from the two slits in his back. Dark leather-like appendages outstretched filling the night sky, moving with him as he lunged forward once more.
I remained still, just watching how they moved, stretching several feet either side of his shoulders.
They resembled dragon wings, only more angular, more agile.
Their movement was terrifying, but my mind also filled with thoughts of what it would be like to touch them. To run my fingers along each ridge.
The heat coiling within me was dampened by the reminder of the vampire's words, like a bruise within my skin. Whispering doubt convinced me that I was just a pawn, that Rhael had offered me nothing and I couldn't trust him. I was at war within my own mind.
On one side there was Olesia, convincing me I had more power than I knew, followed by the vampire's harsh warning and offer of freedom. Shaking my head I stepped forward. Deciding there was only one way I would ever free myself from the disaster zone inside my mind.
I stopped just short of where he stood, watching him as he launched an attack of steel against wood. Cutting the dummy to pieces like it was an enemy he wanted to make sure was dead.
The anger radiating off him was enough to make me want to take at least three steps back, but I didn't, keeping still, trying to make myself seem stronger.
“Rhael.” I whispered, not wanting to startle him, but needing him to know I was there.
That this outburst had not gone unnoticed.
There were cuts littered up his arms and across his chest, where the sword had hit flesh rather than wood, blood dripped over his tanned skin, creating small webs and lines in the darkness.
When he finally turned to face me his eyes were wild, seemingly unfocused, it took a moment for recognition to finally settle into his features as he realised who stood before him. The wild look was replaced with a scowl, his lip curling up baring his teeth.
“Don’t. I am not in the mood. You shouldn’t be here,” he growled as he plunged the sword into the ground. The steel cutting through the dried summer mud with a sound that set my teeth on edge.
“You are angry,” I said, stepping closer, my feet walking across the grass, the edge of my dress making dust swirl in the air around us.
I knew Penny would have a fit if I returned the dress ruined, but that was just one more thing that I did not have space to care about.
“Obviously,” he snapped as he rolled his shoulders, shaking out his hands.
The simple movement shouldn't have undone me the way it did. Especially not with the conflicted emotions that sat knotted inside my chest.
Rhael always had a way of making my knees weak. Even when I knew nothing would ever come of it. That I was just some foolish human girl with a want for a man I should never have.
“Well, what else would you like me to say?” I sighed, waving my hands in the air as I looked around wondering why I had even bothered coming to him.
Clearly I was a masochist, desperate for him to punish me. I had wanted to prove either one of the feelings inside me right, that he didn't think I meant anything, or that I had more control than I let myself believe. Except he was too cold, too distant to ever get a real answer.
“Don’t be smart with me, it doesn't suit you.” He snapped, and I paused tilting my head back as he approached so that I could maintain eye contact. My jaw set as I refused to back down.
“Yet you are the one standing here beating a dummy to death as if it will fix anything.” I murmured, my voice low and steady, trying to ignore the smell of sweat and blood that clung to his skin. His wings twitched behind him, casting jagged shadows across the ground.
“You should go back inside,” he warned as he looked me up and down. His eyes lingering on the dress Penny had spent hours pushing me into.
“No, you don't get to send me away every time you lose control,” I told him as my eyes flicked to the sword buried in the ground.
I knew it was still within arm’s reach, that at any moment he could grab it and show me how insignificant I really was, that my defiance had finally gone too far.
Although, something deep inside me knew that would never be an option.
The Fae King was many things, but a murderer without mercy he was not.
“You don't know what you are asking for,” he whispered, his eyes lingering over my face, my lips. The way he looked at me in that moment I wanted to melt, to give in and promise him anything he wanted. Instead, I shifted my gaze, finding something else to focus on.
“I do. I want the truth.” I said, keeping my voice flat and even despite my heart threatening to burst straight through my chest.
“You want the truth?” He sneered, his mouth turning twisted and cold.
“Yes, tell me about why this bothers you so much,” I demand my hands flail at my sides in exasperation. I was tired, tired of games, of being taunted by freedom just to have it snatched away.
“Careful Elara.” He warned, his cold tone lingering only made me bolder. Wanting me to push the boundaries, force him to finally admit that he wasn't as fucking dense as he had made out to be. The need for truth hummed in my veins, reminding me of what I had fought so hard against.
“Or what? You will send me to my room. Tie me up in metal chains until you decide I'm needed again.” I laughed, the sound, a cold, clear, challenge.
I was tired, frustrated, but most of all I was irritated at myself for believing I had any business being outside in the cold summer air just trying to get him to talk to me.
“You want me to bare myself, you go first.” He snapped, pulling away from me, turning on his heel and sitting on the ground so he looked up at me. A devious look on his face, a response to my challenge.
“What?” I questioned looking at him, raising one eyebrow. Hating the smirk that lingered on his mouth, that lip ring once again being pulled between his teeth.
“Your scar, you wear it like it is a badge of honour. If you want my grief, you give me yours.” He explained, choosing to lean back on his hands as if he was enjoying seeing me so uncomfortable.
“That isn't fair,” I warned, my eyes turned cold. The careless way he looked at me, as if he wanted me to bare my soul to him when he had given me nothing in return.
“Isn’t that the whole point Elara, that none of this is fair?” He offered, his chest rising and falling as he watched me, his head tilting to the side. As if curious whether I would give in.
With a huff of air, I sat down next to him. Folding my legs beneath me, not caring about my dress being sat directly on the dirty floor. Penny could clean it. If the Fae King wanted to hear everything I would tell him and hope he felt fucking guilty for it.
“Fine, I was twenty. I had been sold to a family who taught slaves to be ready for noble service. They wanted obedience, gratitude for the beatings they gave, praise for the men whose hands lingered too long. I refused.” I began, bringing my knees up to my chest as I remembered how it had felt.
“I had still been new to the world of a slave, and my attitude had been the same, only part of me had wanted to be liked. I had wanted them to like me, to treat me as though I was one of their own. But I learnt quickly that it was not true.” I began, bile rising in my throat as I tried to force the words.
“I could still remember how desperately I had tried to please them, without losing myself.
I had tried to befriend the younger members of the household I served.
Part of me young and foolish enough to believe that if they liked me it would be enough to keep me safe despite my bad attitude.
Yet it wasn't, nothing had ever been enough. I would never be enough.”
“That does not surprise me,” he muttered and I turned to face him. A scowl forming on my lips telling him to stay silent. I watched as Rhael held his hands up in surrender letting me continue.
“They tied me to a garden post outside. In front of the other slaves. Said it would teach them what came from defiance. So, they heated a poker until it glowed. Asked me to say please before they pressed it into my skin.” I continued taking deep breaths in between each word.
“The pain made me pass out and when I woke up, the bastard demanded I thank him. Told me if I cried they would do it again lower. That my master would all be too happy to burn in between my thighs, unless I did as I was told.” I explained, my voice becoming more distant with every word that left my mouth.
My hands trembled as I tried to hold them still. My eyes kept focused on a single strand of grass trying not to cry.
“Elara,” he whispered, reaching out his hand to touch my arm. I let him without pulling away his hand warm against my arm. The small, lost, girl inside of me wanted to curl into his chest, to cry and sob until I was hoarse or ran out of tears.
The only reason I didn’t was the look that now lingered in his eyes.
His face was carved with something raw and terrible, as if he finally saw me as the same broken thing everyone else saw.
I hated it. I wasn't weak, I had spent years proving their actions couldn't break me, and the last person I wanted to treat me differently was Rhael.