Chapter Twenty Three
I lasted twenty-four hours under guard before I managed to sneak out. At first, I had waited, convincing myself that Rhael would come back. That once his anger cooled he would demand answers from me, until it was all resolved. Only he didn't.
I paced until my feet ached. I sat until my thoughts turned poisonous, sleeping in broken fragments. The echo of the vampire's words kept me awake.
Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined her sneaking back in my window, leaning over me, fangs extended. Waiting for the right moment to strike. It made being stuck within these four walls even worse.
The worst thing wasn't the vampire or her promise to return. It was the way Rhael had looked at me when he believed that even for a heartbeat, I had considered betraying him.
The look had hurt more than anything I had ever experienced. I would take the burns, the beatings, and the starvation a hundred times over, to avoid ever seeing that look again.
By the time night drew in I was already planning a way out.
Waiting around would send me insane and whilst I knew pissing off Rhael might lead to my own demise, staying in solitude would guarantee it.
I had survived far worse than guards lingering outside my door.
Slipping free has always been a matter of patience.
I spent my time listening mostly. The guards outside the room changed every four hours and I quickly realised that whilst they were Fae, they were also creatures of habit. Complacent in their ability to keep the human inside of her rooms. Thinking I would not be smart enough to find a way out.
Every time I heard footsteps, my ear pressed to the door to eavesdrop on their hushed conversations, knowing who would be there next. Revelling in the increased tones of their boredom.
When I heard the first set of footsteps move away before the second set joined them, I knew it was my moment. They wouldn't hear anything if they were not there.
Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to the window, pushing on the glass, watching as it opened onto a thin ledge.
The sound of the old wood and iron lost into the night.
Cold air rushed into the room, sharp and biting, carrying with it the scent of damp stone.
I hesitated, only for a moment, before swinging one leg over the sill, my bare feet finding the stone below.
The stone was unforgiving against the soles of my feet.
It was smoothed by centuries of wind and rain but cold despite the lingering warmth of the day.
I pressed my palms flat against the wall to steady myself, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to keep myself steady.
From this height, I could see the castle in a way I had never seen before.
My room faced the courtyard, in the centre of the castle that ruled Vaetharyn. The towers rose like the spines of some colossal beast, jagged and elegant forged of black stone.
Their edges caught faint moonlight and broke it into shards of silver. Bridges arched between the spires like ribs draped in banners that stirred even with the lack of wind.
Below, the inner courtyard was a maze of stone and ivy, the sounds of running water from the fountains cycled endlessly through carved basins shaped like beasts and forgotten gods.
The thing that hit me in the chest was the magic that clung to every surface. Almost as if it was suffocating me, trying to push me back into the room.
Instead of listening to it, I edged myself sideways along the ledge, fingers brushing against the outer wall. Careful not to look down, knowing one misstep would send me plummeting down into the darkness below.
My body would be broken and immobile before the guards ever found me and I was determined not to end up in a crumpled heap thanks to my own stupidity.
I moved my bare feet across the stone, swinging myself from ledge to ledge. My hands scraping against the stone, causing grazes on my palms and fingers.
Until I reached the corner of the tower that held my room. Ivy crawled thick and wild, the roots sinking deep into the cracks of the stone walls, making it a sturdy ladder for me to use for my descent.
My heart lurched as my weight shifted, the vines creaking but not breaking.
Slowly, painfully I began to descend. My muscles burned as I slowly made it closer to the ground.
The sounds shifted around me as every move I made became deliberate.
Hiding my body from any lights that shone from the windows.
When my feet finally touched the ground again, I let out a sigh of relief.
My body sagged forward, my palms pressing into the earth, breathing hard.
For a moment I just stayed there, forehead bowed, letting the reality of what I had done settle into my bones.
I knew I had crossed another line, but fuck it, I needed to sort this out.
Behind me, Vaetharyn loomed, vast and beautiful. From the outside it looked less like a home and more like a prison carved from the gods. It was a place I had come to know demanded loyalty, obedience and sacrifice.
I straightened slowly, smoothing out the fabric of my dress as I melted to the shadows along the outer wall. Nothing sounded to alert anyone of my escape, the night accepting me without protest.
The silence bothered me more than any alarm would. It felt less like freedom and more like the calm before something found me again. Before I once again became prey of the hunters lingering within the walls.
As much as I wanted to turn and run, I knew it wasn't an option.
I had to find Rhael, I had to explain myself.
Even if it was only to ease the guilt filled ache inside of my chest. So, I turned back to the castle.
Slipping inside and moving through the halls like a ghost. My bare feet padding along the floors.
I told myself I only wanted answers, closure. Proof that I had not imagined a bond, an attraction, that now felt shattered beyond repair.
When I finally reached Rhael’s office I didn't knock before I pushed the door open, not wanting to give him a chance to send me away. Only to find the room disappointingly empty. The fire was cold and the desk, usually stacked with paperwork, was empty.
I had expected to find him there, surrounded by broken furniture, seething still in his rage. Yet there was nothing. Just an empty space that looked cleaner than the last time I had seen him actually working in it.
The only thing different was the small, narrowed door opened at the other end of the room, just beside the desk. Of all the times I had been in the room I hadn't even bothered to look at it. I knew it was there, but it had always been closed, blending into the wall.
I stepped closer, the air from the doorway was cold with a lingering metallic scent that filled my nose and twisted my stomach. I could have shut the door, pretending I didn't see it and go back to my room. I should have done that. Instead of taking a deep breath I stepped into the darkness.
The stairs spiralled deep into the earth, each step carrying me further from safety, and closer to something I knew deep in my gut would only bring pain. The torchlights grew sparse, shadows thickening until the walls themselves seemed to pulse.
Steadying myself on the cold stone wall beside me I drew in a deep breath. Stopping on one of the stairs, straining my ears to hear something, anything in the silence that was slowly swallowing me whole.
Only after a moment did I hear it. It wasn't a scream, not any more. Just wet, broken noises coming from below as if someone was fighting for breath but drowning at the same time. Drowning was impossible, surely there could not be water under the castle.
I quickened my steps pushing myself deeper down the staircase and into the darkness, panic rising in my chest as the worst thoughts rushed through my mind. Rhael laid at the bottom of the stairs, that it was his struggle I could hear.
Finally, I reached the bottom and blinked. My eyes struggled to adjust to the bright white light that flooded the space. But when I finally took in what was in front of me my entire heart sank to the bottom of my chest.
Rhael stood at the centre of the room, in what looked like a dungeon chamber. His back to me. His shoulders bare and slick with blood, his wings unfurled blocking my view of his face.
The dark leather appendages dripped blood to his feet, catching the torchlight as if I was in a nightmare. There was blood, so much blood, staining his forearms, splattered across his chest and up the walls. Some of it old and dried, the smell of it making my stomach roll.
A body lay at his feet, or at least what was left of one. I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to stop the bile that rose in my throat. It looked as though whoever it had once been had crumpled onto the floor in exhaustion before they had finally given up.
Although I could not tell what species it had been as the body no longer looked human. Limbs were twisted in unnatural angles, fingers curled inwards as if they were trying to claw their way across the dark floor. The chest of the mangled mess did not rise. Whoever it was had died a long time ago.
The head had lolled unnaturally to one side, chin tipped towards the shoulder. I tried hard to not look towards the face, but I couldn't help it. Their eyes were void of life as they stared glassily into nothing, reflecting the torchlight.
I had seen death before, too much of it for most, but this was different.
This wasn't the chaos of a battle or the cruelty of strangers, this was rage in its truest form.
The cuts on the body seemed as if they had been done up close, intimate and personal.
I swallowed the vomit that rose in my throat.
Determined not to announce my arrival by vomiting over the floor.