Chapter Forty-One Siyala
Rhea’s screams stab into me as I hide beneath the bed, the jolting of her heart matching what I know are the timing of the king’s fists until there is a loud smack.
A body falls to the ground, and I force the growl that begs to be unleashed back down my throat.
She wouldn’t want me to be discovered, I remind myself.
But it isn’t right. It isn’t fair. He has beat her again, and listening to her suffer is worse than being found out by the king.
Deciding I’d rather sink my teeth into his leg than hide for another second under this bed, I carefully inch out, ears perked to listen to the men gathered below.
Their armor glints of gold, the Trusted guards blocking the exit to the tower as they look at where King Dolian stands over Rhea, her crumpled form lifeless on the floor. I search their riotous heartbeats for hers, panic pushing me closer to the stairs.
The king squats low, his hand dragging down the sides of her face and then over her collarbone. Monster. My lips peel back in a silent snarl.
“Soon, my darling, you will know what it is to be queen. This is all in preparation. All so that you might earn your title.” He leans over and kisses her forehead before walking from the tower as if leaving a woman unconscious is a normal thing.
The door to the tower shuts before I can sprint down the curving stairs from the loft, and then I’m skidding to a stop, nails scraping against wood as I look at Rhea.
It isn’t the first time I’ve seen her glow, but it never stops being a magnificent thing to watch.
White, shimmering and opalescent, glows from the center of her chest and then down her body, the scent of jasmine filling the air as if the entire tower is covered in the flower.
It lasts only a few seconds as I carefully move closer, waiting until the glowing stops before lying down next to her, my nose pressing gently on her cheek.
Wake up, I want to scream. I am here, I want to add. But in this form, I am silent. So, instead, I nuzzle into her, ready to be here when she wakes up. The princess of the tower and her fox.
I wake with a start, blinking the sleepiness from my eyes as I drag a hand down my face.
Magic thrums beneath my skin, the muscles of my neck flexing as I swing my legs over the edge of the cot and reach for the waterskin set nearby on the ground.
I swallow the cold liquid down, the thudding of my heart loud in my ears and— Wait.
That isn’t my heart. Jolting to a stand, I move towards the cell door just as Xander comes into view.
His eyes are focused, his mouth set in a thin line.
But his chest heaves as he reaches back for the keys on his belt loop, a slight tremor in his hand.
“What’s going on?” When he doesn’t answer, my brows draw together, watching as he pulls the door open and then strides inside.
“It’s time to go.”
“What?” He tugs off a small bag that is strapped across his chest. “Xander—”
“We need to leave now.”
Leave now. A ringing starts in my ears, flashes of the island, of that pink fabric tied to a light wooden beam. It all keeps me held in place as I watch him lift the blanket off the cot, revealing the books he gave me.
“Siyala, you must hurry—”
“Why?” The word comes out in a whisper, but it draws Xander’s gaze to me all the same. It’s a stupid question, one that I’m not entirely sure why I even ask, and yet I hold my breath as he sets the books back down on the cot, his hands then gently resting on my shoulders.
“Because it is time for you to be free.” His thumbs sweep over my collarbones, the touch far too tender for the gravity of this moment.
“Because you have always deserved more than a cage. Physical or otherwise.” My own hands reach for his wrists, fingers curling over his exposed skin.
“Because I can no longer bear the thought of you sitting here alone, at risk from the king and Simon and the other guards. I can’t protect you well enough here, but I can make sure that you get somewhere far away.
” My eyes fall closed as I struggle to catch my breath, the sob threatening to break free robbing me of air.
He draws me in slowly, and I loathe that his armor is placed between us, my cheek resting over the cold metal at his chest. “Please,” he begs. “We have to go.”
I might have fought him more if it weren’t for the desperation present both in his voice and on his face when we finally separate.
He hands me a cloak, which I fasten as he works on tucking the books into the bag before slipping it around my body.
Then he asks for me to hold out my hand.
Reaching behind him, he pulls out a small dagger set in a light leather sheath, the handle of it slim and black.
“If anyone dares to give you trouble at the docks or on the ship, I want you to use this.” He slides the blade free, showing me the length of it.
The silver looks polished to perfection, the edge impossibly sharp.
Pushing it back in, he lifts the flap of the satchel and places it inside the bag.
“No one will ever take what is yours ever again,” he says, and gods, his conviction works to soothe my own nerves. “Promise me.”
I swallow, my eyes bouncing between his. “I promise,” I tell him, if only to have him continue looking at me that way. As if I’m not some broken creature but a fierce female.
Reaching for my hand, he leads us out of the cell and into the torture room, through the tunnel and then into the secret space.
“There are extra provisions in your bag,” he says, shutting the tunnel door behind him, “as well as some coin. There is a guard stationed at the entrance of the docks named Alaric. He will let you pass with the code word honey.”
“Honey?” I interrupt, eyebrow arching. “Why that word?”
Xander flushes as he guides me towards the other hidden door in the room.
“Because,” he drawls, searching for the door’s edge before pressing in on one of the stones, “it is what your eyes remind me of.” I bite down on my lip to stop my grin from growing, pretending to instead feign surprise at the second hidden door.
Xander catches my expression, and his own lips quirk.
“I know you knew this was here. You think I didn’t notice the sweet potato stain? ”
Mouth dropping open, I let him pull me into the tunnel, watching as he lights a torch before shutting the door behind us.
Even hunched over from the lower ceiling, he still towers over me, and my heart dips at the amount of space he takes up.
At how he could easily pull me to him, devouring every one of the soft curves on my body with the muscular planes of his own.
“Pay attention,” he orders quietly, holding the torch out so that shadows dance along the cut of his jaw. “Once you’re past Alaric, you will go to the ship with the shifter sigil. I assume you know what that is?”
“An oryx,” I murmur, my cousin’s face flitting into my mind and prompting a worried question.
My pulse quickens. “Is Kai still king?” He hadn’t been in the role long before I left, and I knew just from the bits and pieces of conversation I overheard from my mother that it was not a position he necessarily wanted.
Xander’s brow arches at the familiarity of Kai’s name on my tongue. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“Well, he is the king,” I retort, earning a glare that makes me smile. Xander’s gaze drops to my lips again, the column of his throat working with a swallow. “He is my cousin.”
At that admission, he jerks his head back, eyes blown wide. “I’m sure he will be absolutely delighted to know that a family member has been imprisoned and hurt by the mortal king.”
“It has been a long time since we’ve spoken,” I say, my fingers flexing where Xander still holds my hand. “Maybe he won’t care about me at all.”
He studies me, likely seeing far too much written on my face. But I’m already exhausted by the prospect of telling Kai what I have been doing for the past four years. By the idea of being home at all. “Then he would be a fucking fool.”
As we continue forward, I notice markings that weren’t in the tunnel connecting the dungeon to the hidden room. Red, blue, and green smudges line the jagged stone walls, particularly where the tunnel splits in various directions.
“It’s a map,” he says, holding the torch out in front of him, “to tell us which portion of the castle we’re beneath or where each tunnel might end.”
I study the colors as we come to a fork, my steps faltering as something catches my attention. Squeezing Xander’s fingers, I force us to a stop, leaning closer to him as I listen more intently.
“What is it?” he whispers, angling the flame so that he can better see my face.
Brows scrunching, I turn my head so that my ear is pointed toward the tunnel to our right, my lips parting with a breath. “Someone else is here.”
Xander’s head turns to look down the tunnel, his shoulders growing rigid.
“It isn’t uncommon for people of the resistance to use these tunnels…
” But he doesn’t finish that thought, instead angling himself in front of me as he eyes the other tunnel to our left.
“It goes in the opposite direction we need,” he whispers, frustration evident. “Draw the hood over your head.”
Letting go of his hand, I pull the hood of the cloak up and tuck my hair into it.
He switches the torch into his left hand, reaching for the dagger strapped to his leg with his right.
I eye the sword attached to his hip, but the tunnel isn’t wide enough to wield it with any kind of efficiency.
My stomach pitches upwards when I peer around Xander’s arm, and a silhouette comes into view, their own torch held out in front of them guiding the way.
As they are dressed in a cloak too, I can’t make out their features, but I hear the way their heart beats steadily, like they are unsurprised by our presence.
When they are only a few feet ahead of us, Xander’s fingers twitch and his chest rises with a sharp inhale.
“Best to state your name before it is too late to do so,” he says, the deep rumble of his voice echoing off the stone.
The person comes to a stop, drawing their flame a little closer as they reach up and drop the hood of their cape.
“Alden?” Xander says, and though it is clear he recognizes this man, there is tension when he speaks the name.
A threat and a question all wrapped up in one.
Alden’s eyes flick to mine, the corners of his mouth dropping to a frown before settling into a tight line as he lifts his chin. “Well, it seems my accusations weren’t so farfetched after all.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Alden, and it’s best you leave now before you get the wrong idea.”
Alden tilts his head, his other hand loose at his side.
Next to a dagger strapped to his thigh the same as Xander has.
“You’ve got everyone else fooled, Xander, but I see through you,” he says, looking at how Xander stands in front of me.
“Weeks and weeks passing with nothing from the shifter to show for it? No new word on the princess? No explanation on her magic or why she went to the Mage Kingdom or what she might be hiding? It seemed impossible. Improbable.” He clicks his tongue, righting his head. “I take no pleasure in being right.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Xander mutters.
Alden hears and sighs, reaching up to unclasp his cloak. It falls away, revealing a muscular body clad in the same armor as Xander.
“All I care about is taking the king down. It’s why I joined the resistance. Why I looked past your failed promises time and time again. Why I looked past your relation to the king. Because I thought you were leading us towards a better future.”
Relation?
“Overthrowing a king takes time, especially when that king is a paranoid man like Dolian. He will spot carelessness from a mile away. You may not like my methods or my timeline, but everything I have done has been in order to keep everyone safe. Progress is slow sometimes, but it doesn’t mean it has all been for naught. ”
Alden growls and takes a step closer, prompting Xander’s heart to beat faster.
“I might have believed you a few months ago, but not now. Not when you’re helping our only source of information flee.
” Again his eyes move to me, and Xander adjusts his body to try to hide as much of me as he can.
But Alden is undeterred, and his dark eyes scour over what he can see of my face.
“I can’t let her leave, not when I know she has information on Princess Rhea. ”
“The princess is not the threat I feared she would be.”
My throat grows dry as the pieces of everything I’ve learned about Xander and what I’m finding out now slide into place, giving me the full picture I didn’t have before.
Xander isn’t just part of an uprising against the king.
He is leading one. His questions about Rhea?
His insistence that he be the one to interrogate me, that I answer everything I could before it was too late?
It wasn’t so that he could give the information to King Dolian to use against her.
It was so that he could ensure Rhea wasn’t a threat to this.
To this movement against the king. And Xander, he had let me think the worst of him.
Let me believe, for a time anyway, that he was loyal to the king.
Alden slides the dagger from its sheath, holding it parallel to his forearm as he lifts it up in front of him.
“It didn’t have to be like this. But where you have failed this resistance, I will lead it to greatness.
Under me, we will finally make our move against the king, and all will know freedom and peace. ”
“Alde—” But Xander doesn’t even get the man’s name fully out before he lunges.