Chapter 20
Twenty
Voiceless
Three days had passed. Three long, miserable days.
I’d been dragged through dense forests and two bustling villages, their streets filled with colour, laughter, and life so vibrant it made the dark tales I’d heard about the Fae seem like cruel lies.
But I knew better. I’d seen how they slaughtered my people. Innocent people.
The Commander hadn’t said a word to me. Hadn’t so much as looked in my direction unless it was to drag me up onto that cursed horse like I was some burden to be carted around.
I burned with fury, but I had no way to scream it since the Commander refused to loosen his hold over my will through my poorly worded bargain.
I had no voice to spit my rage into his face.
No words to demand answers. And that made it worse, the silence.
My silence. It crawled under my skin like an ever-present reminder that I wasn’t in control.
Though it seemed, the power thrumming through my veins had plenty of commentary to make.
Plenty of vivid daydreams of how to kill the Commander the moment I fulfilled my end of the blood deal.
Every night was the same. Solas, ever the charming cook, would hunt and roast some unfortunate woodland creature.
He would hum to himself as if this were normal.
I hated that I found comfort in the rhythm of it.
The way his awkward jokes tried to fill the silence I wasn’t allowed to break almost made him feel less dangerous. But I wasn’t fooled.
Each horse carried a small tent strapped to its side, and by now I’d grown efficient at setting them up.
I remembered the first night, watching Cerilla begin to unroll one like it was second nature.
I’d stood there useless, a ghost in someone else’s life, while they all moved like they belonged.
I hated that feeling… Uselessness. Although it clung to me like a second skin.
I’d worn it my entire life. A prized possession, seen but never heard.
I had been trained to smile and obey while men played games of power and blood.
And now, after everything I’d risked escaping that life, after choosing to leap into training, to fight, to matter…
I was right back where I started. Muzzled, ignorant and silent.
I was being dragged around like some fragile decoration, for reasons I still did not understand, fumbling after answers everyone else seemed to hold.
My ignorance burned brighter than any shame, and I hated it most of all.
So that first night, I’d shooed Cerilla away, jaw clenched and hands trembling. I needed something to claim as mine, even if it was just pitching a damn tent. Because if I was going to be hauled through their war like baggage, I’d at least plant my feet and do something.
Solas talked at me constantly, telling me lazy stories of their world undeterred by the fact that I couldn’t respond. It was almost comforting—his voice filling the silence my own had left behind. I had learnt that the Commander of Death was a legend in Lumireth.
A monster hunter. Solas told me stories of him fighting legendary beasts to save their realm. I believed none of his stories, but I still enjoyed them.
At night, I slept in a tent alone, the Commander sitting guard at its entrance. Strange noises jarred me from nightmares of the sea. It was always the sea.
I had, at least, found some rhythm in the saddle. I was proud of that, of learning to stay upright without gripping the reins like a terrified child.
I flinched as the fire cracked sharply, dragging me from my thoughts.
Embers leapt into the air, swirling upward in an intimate dance with the smoke.
I followed their path, amazed by the night sky that hung above us.
An unimaginable number of twinkling lights shone down upon us in the clearing where we had made camp.
Seeing the night sky was almost worth all of this. Almost.
Cerilla returned from the horse with three small bags filled with a dark liquid. She passed one to the Commander and he snatched it. His shadows consumed half of his body, withering uncontrollably. He stood suddenly and stalked away, his body disappearing into the shadows themselves.
Cerilla watched her brother disappear into the shadows, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Solas sank his teeth into his bag without hesitation, drinking with a hunger that made my stomach twist. I grimaced, something inside me whispering to run.
They were drinking blood. Solas threw the empty bag into the fire, wiping the dark liquid that smeared around his mouth onto his forearm. He caught me watching him.
“It’s a blood bag,” he said casually, as if it was nothing more than soup. But he stared at the flames, lost in thought.
“There were Mortals here when the realms were sealed,” he said finally, voice light but hollow at the edges.
“There are many that live in Lumireth in their own communities and blood donations are paid handsomely.” He paused.
His next words were quieter. “In this court, anyway.” His gaze drifted, not at me but through me, to some memory I wasn’t privy to.
The corners of his mouth twitched, not in a smile, but in the strain of holding something back.
Then he blinked it away, flashing a grin and tilting his head with feigned ease.
“Let’s just say you do not want to know what the other courts prefer. ”
I gritted my teeth. I had so many questions. What court were we in? How many courts were there?
“Will you let the girl speak?” Solas said, looking past me. “It would make the trip far more entertaining.”
“You’ll regret that request,” the Commander rumbled from behind me. He waved his hand in my direction, and the blood mark on my skin tingled in response.
I shot to my feet and spun towards his impossibly large form, shadows snaking around his body like they were alive.
“I hate you,” I growled, eyes blazing. “The moment our blood bargain is over, I will kill you. I will slit your throat and watch you bleed shadows and send you to the deepest pit in the Seven Hells.” I closed the distance between us until I was glaring up into his void-like eyes.
Power thrummed beneath my skin, and my vision pulsed with flickers of darkness.
“As long as you find the Soul Relics and imbue for me, I will hand you the fucking blade myself.”
“I don’t know where they are!” I shoved at his chest, open palms striking warm skin that refused to give.
He didn’t move. Not an inch. The realization snapped something sharp inside me, rage surging as I struck him again.
His eyes changed, thin inky veins bloomed outward from his irises and consumed the whites. The eyes of a monster. He leaned in, closing the space between us until I could feel his warm breath wash over my face. My heart hammered in my throat, but I held my ground.
“You are mine to command. My prisoner.”
I ground my teeth together. My hand lashed out before I could stop it, aiming to slap him across the face. His calloused hand caught my wrist effortlessly.
“You are impossibly mouthy, and violent,” he murmured, almost amused. His calloused hand squeezed my wrist until I gasped, and I struggled against his hold uselessly.
“For something so—” His gaze dragged over me with cruel deliberation as he twisted his hand with brute force, and a sickening crack echoed louder than my scream.
“—breakable.”
Agony ripped through my arm, white-hot and blinding. My knees buckled as I cried out, the sound tearing from my throat before I could swallow it. My fingers spasmed, and the world tilted violently as my bone protruded through my skin.
The word struck something raw inside me, a fault line I’d tried relentlessly to bury under my defiance.
He stepped closer, my chest flush against his abdomen. He was so tall. His fingers tightened painfully around my wrist, and cold tendrils crept across my skin. Painfully cold shadows. They moved like liquid frost, crawling and coiling against my skin.
“Is that what you want?” My chin lifted despite the tremble in my voice. “To break me? Many men have tried before you, Commander.”
He clenched his jaw, a dark chuckle vibrating through his chest. “Do not compare me to those Mortal excuses you call men,” he replied, voice low and lethal.
He stepped forward, and I instinctively shifted back a pace.
His eyes caught the movement, glinting with predatory hunger.
“I am your Kingdom’s nightmare, Little Drownling.
” His breath was suddenly hot against my ear.
I retreated another step, bark scraping against my back.
His body caged me against the tree. Too close. I couldn’t move.
“And you are my prisoner. If I want to break you…” His lips brushed the shell of my ear. Anger mingled with the fear rising in my stomach. “Nothing can stop me.”
But he was wrong. I would fight him every Gods-dammed moment.
The world wavered. I hummed a haunting melody, and his form twisted in my sight like I was seeing him through dark, churning water.
Power rippled over my skin almost like a living, breathing entity.
Without shame, I pushed my breasts against his bare chest, using the distance he’d tried to weaponize.
He blinked, a crack in his composed, deadly front.
I smirked up at him through thick eyelashes and bit down softly on my bottom lip.
I could feel the water within him—humming beneath his skin like a tide waiting for command.
The moisture in his blood. His breath. The sheen of sweat. Every droplet was a thread I could tug.
Boil, I demanded it. I whispered power into the water that pulsed through his fingers, coaxing it to heat.