Discarded
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
He released me when we reached the foyer, and my knees buckled.
I tumbled onto the cold stone, my leg not allowing me to remain upright.
My hip screamed where it had been mended, the same hip he gripped while inside me, and now I was on the floor because of it.
I pressed my palms to the stone and pushed myself up, despite the leg wanting to buckle again.
I would not beg from the floor he put me on.
An officer posted at the exit kept his head forward.
“Drusilla,” he bellowed again. Footsteps echoed from the servants’ hall. A quick pitter-patter of slippers rushing toward us.
What he was doing was wrong.
So.
So.
Wrong.
Because he was mine.
I lunged for Cassiel’s arm, gripping the sleeve of his robe.
“Please listen, she is not to be trusted,” I whispered as quickly as possible, so that my words nearly ran into one another to create a jumbled mess.
Drusilla entered as Cassiel jerked his arm up, ripping his sleeve from between my fingers. Eliza came in behind Drusilla, blinking sleep from her eyes that quickly faded when she took me in before Cassiel.
“Please,” I whispered once more and pressed my palms together to stop myself from touching him. My heart pulsed as if an arrow pierced it. “Please, Cassiel.”
A hand lashed across my face, wrenching me to the side which made me stumble. I clasped my jaw.
“He is your king. Refer to him as such, redblood.” The sting radiated to my teeth. A muscle at the corner of her lips twitched, betraying her satisfaction.
My cheek throbbed with heat. I searched his empty eyes staring me down. Despite how badly I wanted to turn away, I forced myself to look. This was the creature that enticed me, and it was a reminder I needed of what exactly I meant to him.
I should have escaped. I had the book, yet I came to him.
“Get her out of my sight,” Cassiel ordered. His gaze did not waver from mine. “And bring me a damned meal.” His teeth flashed. He watched me with such an icy gaze that it speared through me.
Everything had gone so terribly wrong.
“Take her to the pit,” Lady Drusilla ordered. Two officers converged, one at each side, taking an arm.
“I-I apologize, my lord,” I croaked, not recognizing my voice. “Do not let them take me—”
He turned while I was mid-word, offering me his back. A fissure opened through my chest. He gave me his back after every tender moment we had together. I thought . . . Tears blinded my eyes, and I struggled to catch my breath, watching him retreat, the muscles playing under the silk of his robe.
I was loaded onto a carriage, and one of the officers joined me inside, blocking me against the back.
I struggled to breathe, my ragged gasps were all that kept the tears at bay. Not one bit of the Cassiel I had come to know had looked at me. For a moment, I truly believed he would listen.
I choked on a sob, pressing against the side of the carriage near the slim window. I curled my arms around my torso.
What should I do?
Escape at this point was my only option, but how? I did not have Piper. I could render the officer unconscious, but what about the one outside the carriage? Would it give me enough time to run to Piper and escape before they were found?
Then there was Lucinda, but the prophet had been clear: she would be where she must be when that time came.
I clasped my temples between my palms. The officer watched me like I was an insect to be crushed.
A sneer of distaste, a derisive look. I was less than nothing in blueblood eyes, but it was all a lie. They believed a lie.
Stretching out my leg did nothing to ease the dull throb.
The carriage jolted as it did whenever it crossed onto the paved way leading to the House of Lords. I scooted to the side, sliding across the velvet cushion to be closer to the exit.
“Where do you think you are going?” The officer said, grabbing my wrist. I yanked away my arm, reacting on instinct.
“Do not touch me,” I snapped, clenching my teeth together.
His gaze turned menacing. I pressed my shoulders back against the carriage seat. Rage flitted across his features. He grabbed at me again, and this time, I could not avoid him jerking me closer as he leaned forward. Mead stung my nose.
“What, too good for me?”
“Yes.”
His shock told me he had not expected a response. That made both of us. Before I had a moment to brace myself, his meaty palm flashed across my face with such force that I smacked into the side of the carriage door and bounced off, hitting the edge of the seat. I yelped, favoring my side.
The pressure there drew away from the sting at my temple. He struck me with his fist. My ears rang, and the jostling of the carriage caused my senses to jumble even more. I whimpered, curling into a ball and yanked Branwen’s robe closer.
He sucked a breath through his teeth. An irritated sound.
My hearing faded in and out.
A creak forced me to open my eyes. I dug my heel into the wooden planks, trying to get against the back of the carriage as the second officer whipped open the door. The man with untamed dark hair who had been with Egan when I was taken to a brothel stood gawping.
“What did you do?”
“She got fucking mouthy,” said the brutish officer who hit me, as he exited. He turned to take hold of my ankle. I yelped as I was dragged to the exit.
I landed in a pile on the stone ground as the second officer let out a string of curses. My head swam as I attempted to collect myself.
Saints, I hurt.
“There is no need to be harsh with her,” the second officer said, surprising me.
He had no opinions while we were at the brothel.
Crouching to brace me under my arms, he stood me upright, still stern, but nothing like the other officer had been.
I stumbled to follow his guidance, limping down the halls I used to walk with him.
Every uneven step reminded me of whose hands had done this.
He’d branded my bones as surely as the Sigil had branded my throat.
Every blink was agony across the side of my face.
The Grand Hall swept past in a blur, and he took me through the entrance that cut behind the frightening throne. We made it through the slim hall until we reached that thick door. Opening it into pure darkness.
“In you go,” he murmured, giving no indication of what he was thinking in his bland voice.
I held his gaze for a few breaths, and his gaze flitted away from mine. No further help would come from him. I eyed the inky darkness leading down to where the Hollows were and shivered. With another hard swallow, I stepped onto the stone platform of the descending stairs.
The door slammed shut, and a clank later I was locked in the dark, musty pit. I leaned against the damp stone and tilted my head back with my eyes closed. Everything had gone to the Hollows. Escaping from here before Nocturn, which was mere dawnlights away. How would I manage to retrieve Piper—
“Is anyone there?”
I startled and almost tumbled down the stairs. That voice, a feminine voice, tickled my memory. I slowly descended toward the voice.
“Hello?” I whispered.
After a beat of silence, there was a thud against metal.
“Amara?”
I quickened my descent as best I could with my uneven gait until I was at the bottom, moonlight filling this section of the damp chamber. Hugging myself, I lowered my head, squinting. A shadow moved against the bars.
“Renata?” I breathed.
It took me a moment to recognize her because she was a bloody mess. Slashes lined the entirety of her face and down her nude body, as if a blade had been taken to the thin flesh. Sapphire blood stained and crusted at all the wounds.
I burst forward and took hold of the bars. She hugged her torso where deep bruising expanded across her ribs.
“We need to get you out of there, Renata,” I said, rushed, scanning all of the bars cemented into stone.
“They know you were helping us. I am terribly sorry, Amara,” she gasped, choking. “They tortured it out of me.” She cut off with a guttural sound.
“Who, Renata? Who is they?” Before she could answer, a loud clang erupted through the cell.
Both of us froze, looking toward the sharp clinking.
She straightened and backed against the side. “If you manage to escape. Do not turn back,” she whispered.
A howl ripped through, echoing.
Sounds of skittering approached. A single Hollow rounded into our view. There was no time to run; she was trapped. The Hollow lunged at her in a burst too quick to track. She fell on her back, head smacking against the metal bar and sending blood spattering across my dress.
It rammed its long, curved claw down the front of her chest, ripping her from throat to navel.
A scream caught in my throat as I staggered back until I was flush with stone. Innards and blue blood burst from her as her torso was torn open. Renata kept screaming, still not succumbing to death.
The Hollow opened its maw, showing grotesque teeth, and it began to feed, burying its face into the split torso.
Renata’s head went limp, her eyes wide open and fixed on me. The monster continued feeding. My legs stopped working, and I slid down against the stone until my bottom hit the ground.
She was gone. Renata was gone only because she wanted a better life for her niece.
I clamped my palms over my ears, but the wet sounds of the Hollow feeding still reached me. I curled forward over my thighs, pressing my forehead into the stone. If they knew I was involved, they would search the chamber . . . They would find the grimoire.
The very thing Renata died for. The crack in my chest only grew.
Nothing I had done until now had worked.