Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The last time I walked into this throne room, I was alone, as the future queen of Blackwood, with no hope for the life that was already planned and decided for me.
Now, I’m a prisoner, standing beside the man I love, with no idea of what is going to meet us on the other side of that door.
The carved black wood looms over us, parting down the middle as Brynne flattens her hands on the surface and pushes them open.
One guard shoves me from behind, and I catch myself before I stumble over the threshold and into the empty room.
Brynne strides down the aisle, her head held high, as Weston and I make our way across the black carpet behind her.
My focus stays locked on her back as I try to figure out not only what her plan is but also scramble to come up with one of my own.
With both of our hands bound, and my one and only means of protection already in her possession, I’m failing miserably.
There’s no lesson I can recall that prepared me for this.
Looking back, it seems so similar to how I was taken by the Castaways, hands bound and thrown in a cell, but back then, I was locked up in a cage of my own making. They never intended to harm me. Their only goal was to get me to be comfortable enough that I would eventually understand their side.
Dane has already proven he will harm me, and Weston never looked at me with the malice that Brynne now does. Deep in my gut, I don’t feel that anything I tried before will help me now, and beneath my anger there’s a new sinking sense of dread forming that we may not escape this.
“Halt at the foot of the steps,” Brynne commands over her shoulder, just before she steps to the side, in the same place she stood for my ceremony so long ago.
I suck in a ragged breath when the dais comes into view, and I realize I was wrong.
The room isn’t empty.
Dane sits on my father’s throne, my throne, his body slouched, his ankle crossed over his knee with a bored look on his face as his chin rests in his propped up hand.
“Well, well, well.” One corner of his lips turns up in a sly smirk as we stop before him, and his eyes flicker to the guards before falling back to us.
“When they said a man and a woman arrived claiming to be the princess and the First Guard, I didn’t believe them.
They had to be mistaken. The princess and the First Guard had no way of being here.
I made sure of it. That is, until they brought me this. ”
He tosses something into the air and catches it, and I blink slowly as I realize what he now holds in his hands.
The dust.
So many emotions, so much time, so much effort went into finding that dust, and to keeping the healing waters away from Dane, but now, he has them again. The Guardian of Dawnlin once again has all his power and control back.
“You know,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes drag to the pouch.
“This has now caused me more irritation than it has helped me. I thought it would be the answer to all my problems, but all it has done is create more. You see…” He pushes to stand and hooks the pouch to his belt, then saunters across the dais.
Glaring at us with a predatory focus, his eyes fall to me, and his lips pull up in a sneer.
“It gave me the exact advantage I hoped for when it brought you to me. But, it was also supposed to ensure that you were stuck there forever. You weren’t supposed to come back, not after you were an absolute failure and couldn’t give me what I wanted.”
My jaw aches, my teeth threatening to crack from the force of clenching as I narrow my my eyes at him.
“Why are you doing this?” I grind out, refusing to look away.
“Don’t you listen? Did you not hear me? Or were you so focused on him showing up to rescue you that you forgot everything the instant he opened his mouth?” He glares at Weston before turning his haughty stare back to me. “It’s all for her. Every bit of it was for her.”
“You can’t save her, Dane,” I say with a shake of my head. “None of us can.”
“I could have, but your failure destroyed that part of the plan. I prepared for something like this to happen. I hoped it wouldn’t go this way, but now that it has, I know what needs to be done.” His head snaps toward Brynne and barks at her, “Bring him in and bolt the doors.”
Brynne nods to the group behind us, and I look over my shoulder, watching as Guthrie steps away from the rest of the men and strides back down the aisle.
When he reaches the end, he bends and hauls something off the ground.
I swallow the lump in my throat as he wraps thick chains around the handles, winding the metal through layer after layer.
Ice-cold fear courses through my veins.
We’re trapped. Again. Dane already threatened to harm everyone I care about, back in Dawnlin when he was going to hunt the Castaways and force them to tell him where the waters are.
He knows where every single one of them lives, because he brought them all to Dawnlin.
He could go back after them and hunt each person down just as he promised.
But the chains on the doors tell me something more is coming, something worse, at least for those of us standing in this throne room.
I steal a glance at Weston, but he’s barely moved. His eyes are locked on Dane, his body coiled with tension so tight, it looks like he’s ready to snap. The harsh clang of a lock snapping into place behind us makes me jolt.
Fuck. How are we going to get out of here?
Immediately I look to the door on the side of the dais, the only other entrance into the throne room, just as it opens, and a figure slides through.
Brynne strides in, a smug look on her face as she takes the steps back to her position.
Storm saunters in behind her, and my mind reels.
What could Dane need with Storm? How is he even part of all this?
He barely interacted with me, and never did with Weston during my time on Dawnlin. What could he have against my kingdom?
Storm steps to the side of the doorway and gestures to someone just beyond it, and it isn’t until the person steps through, that I realize he isn’t the man Dane is referring to.
It is my father.
I barely recognize the man who steps out of the shadows and into the throne room. His face is sallow. His cheeks are sunken. Large dark circles beneath his eyes make him look tired and sad.
Was I the cause of this? Of his decline? Has my absence affected him this much, or was it something else? Something that Dane did? Was it actually out of concern for me, or simply because his heir was missing?
I stifle a gasp as an actual possibility makes goosebumps break out across my skin.
Was it caused by the death of my mother?
Unlike ours, my father’s hands are not bound, but he walks stiffly, as if he is trying to hide pain.
The moment he spots us standing before the throne, he pauses, his eyes widening as his head hinges from me to Weston.
His mouth falls open, and his legs seem to weaken as he staggers to the throne beside his.
My mother’s throne. Grasping the wooden arm for support, he gapes at us in disbelief before turning to Dane.
“What is the meaning of this?” This isn’t the commanding and indifferent voice of the father I have known my whole life. This voice is weak, and pleading, and the vast difference startles me.
Guthrie crosses the room in front of Brynne, straight toward the door, and chains it closed, trapping us all inside.
“Well you see, Remington,” Dane starts, and despite my feelings toward my father, I can’t help the anger that flickers at hearing his name be used, not his title, especially from this man whose unnecessary hatred has stolen so much from me.
“When I arrived, you were the only one left standing in my way, but your offspring decided to grace us with her presence after I had already dealt with her. So now we’re all here together. ”
My father straightens, rising to his full height. He glances over at me before returning to meet Dane’s gaze. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
Dane barges toward him, his youthful strength no match for my father’s weakened state as he fists my father’s shirt and yanks forward, pulling their faces together.
“No, you won’t! You’ve already proven that!”
My father’s face pales even further at the blow of Dane’s yell. “You can’t have her. She was never yours.”
“No, she was never yours. She was always mine.” Dane shoves him away, and my father staggers on his feet, catching himself at the last moment without falling to the floor.
“If you cared about her, then you wouldn’t have hurt her.”
Dane’s eyes widen, and his expression turns wild. “It never would have happened if you hadn’t taken her! If you hadn’t tricked her into loving you and wanting this life!” He gestures to the room around us, moving to stand in front of the throne again.
“Her thoughts and actions were her own. I didn’t convince her of anything more than my love and devotion.”
“You barely knew her! You could never love her like I did, like I do! Even after all this time, everything I did was for her. I will spend the rest of my life with her, and none of you can stop me!” He throws his arm out, gesturing to all of us in the throne room.
A sharp intake of breath comes from Weston’s other side, but I refuse to look.
I can’t take my eyes off Dane and my father.
“Dane, she’s gone. She’s never woken up. You need to let her go.” I’ve never heard my father sound this desperate, never have I thought he was even capable of it, not as the king.
“She has held on for this long, and so have I. It was meant to be. We were meant to be, even if it’s not the way I planned.”
“Please,” my father says, taking a hesitant step toward Dane as if trying to ward off a reaction. “If you love her, let her daughter go.”
Sharp pain lances through my chest as I suck in a quick breath.
My father is…trying to protect me?
For my entire life, he’s barely looked at me, only speaking to me when absolutely necessary, but now, he’s trying to ensure I get away from this monster.
He continues. “Let them both go. They did nothing to you. It is me you want.”
A maniacal laugh erupts from Dane’s chest. “Oh, Remington. That’s where you’re wrong.
” He throws an arm out, pointing directly at Weston.
“He is just as much at fault. He enabled your time with her. He helped coerce her into this world. He helped trap her in your snare. And then he took away my only chance of finding a cure when he took her.” His eyes are dangerous as he turns on me, and if I had any doubts before, I know now that the Dane I knew is nowhere to be found.
I don’t know this man who stands before me, but I fear him.
“Besides,” he says, as he takes a step toward me, “I can’t have any loose ends showing up and trying to lay claim to the kingdom. If she’d just stayed put, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. But she couldn’t, could she? Now, she’s done it once, and I won’t let her do it again.”
I can barely breathe as my father darts across the dais, his eyes widening as he looks to me, before reaching his arm out to grab Dane’s shoulder.
“No, please,” my father begs, but Dane whips around, turning on him in a flash.
A shrill scream pierces my ears, and the pain that lances my throat tells me that it is coming from me.
I watch in terror as their bodies collide, my chest heaving with a sob as Dane pulls away, ripping a blood-soaked knife out of my father’s abdomen.
And he falls motionless to the floor.