16. The Weight of Ash
Chapter sixteen
The Weight of Ash
Scarlett
The chains bit into Scarlett’s wrists, the metal cold against her skin, and the ache they caused was unrelenting.
She sank to the floor of the chamber, head bowed, hair clinging damply to her face.
Around her, the shadows of the Spade fortress pulsed, pressing in on every side.
Ace had been dragged away and thrown into another cell, she couldn’t reach for him.
She had no anchor, no warmth beside her.
Only the echo of his struggle. The muffled curse of his voice haunted the silence of the dungeon.
Maddox and Arley—her heart seized at their absence.
The image of their broken, bloodied forms ghosted in every corner of her vision.
She had tried to summon her fire, had tried to wield the Crimson Deep—but exhaustion had stolen her strength, leaving only weak embers that flickered and died too quickly.
And now, with Cyrus looming, she felt the emptiness of their loss gnawing at her chest.
Sitting on the cold stone, she let herself feel everything—the grief, the fury, the unbearable weight of despair. She had chosen all three of them, heart and soul, despite the kingdoms that demanded otherwise. And now she was forced to watch everything she loved be torn apart in front of her.
Chained beneath the shadow of a man who would see her reduced to a hollow public trophy.
A Queen in title only, forced to smile while her world burned at his feet.
Towering above it all, would stand Cyrus, draped in dark velvet and ash.
The flames would carve harsh shadows across his face, sharpening his cold amusement.
As if her suffering was nothing more than another performance staged for his entertainment.
Cyrus’ plans swirled in her mind, a cruel nightmare.
He would parade her before the courts of Underland, forced to marry him, forced to carry his heir.
Her body, her life, and the power of the Crimson Deep would become a tool for his domination—two quadrants bound beneath his rule, the rest of the lands falling like dominoes to his ambition. And she could do nothing to stop him.
Her fire flickered faintly in her veins. Every attempt to focus, every flicker of control, left her weaker, more vulnerable. She closed her eyes, struggling to will herself to calm. The Null Veil was draining her more and more, being in such close contact with it now.
The sorrow pressed in like a physical weight.
She thought of Maddox, his strength, unyielding loyalty, and how she had been forced to watch him fall.
Arley, sly and clever, always so ready with a plan, is now gone.
Leaving only absence and emptiness in his wake.
And Ace… the man she had just begun to understand, he had been her enemy only because he, too, was following courtly duty.
A forced marriage with the sworn enemy seemed like the least likely place to find feelings.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. I am alone.
I am powerless. And he will use me to crush everything I’ve fought for.
Everything my father died for. The thought made her fists clench, nails biting into her palms. She imagined the public display, the court’s eyes on her.
Her imagination could only see so far into the way Cyrus would humiliate her out of spite, his victorious smile as she was forced to kneel.
The disgust from the thoughts of being forced to give him an heir that would extend his dominion.
It made her stomach churn sour. Every fiber of her being screamed to push through this, to fight it at all costs.
Her mind fought against the suffocating fear. I will survive. I must fight this, fight him with everything I have left. I cannot let him win. I will not let him win. Maddox and Arley’s death will not be in vain.
The domino of events that have led to this cell dressed as a bedroom chamber—these chains laced in Null Veil.
She would fight it till the very end. She would endure to survive.
And though Cyrus may believe she was broken, alone, powerless—he had not yet learned the actual cost of awakening the Crimson Deep.
And she would do it for the eternal love of Maddox and Arley.
Even with them gone, fighting for just the chance of peace with Ace at her side would have to be enough to end Cyrus’ tyranny.
The walls of the chamber closing in, heavy and warped in shadowflame, would claim her in exhaustion for now.