Chapter 26 #3
“Wait, I also have this.” She pulls out a syringe from a small leather pouch hidden in the shadows at the door’s edge. My blood runs cold at the sight of the capped metal until she explains, “It’s an antidote to the power suppressant Kaelith gave you. It should work instantly.”
She goes to hand me the needle, but I shake my head, grimacing. “Can you do it? I hate needles.”
She lets out a soft laugh that sounds almost like wind chimes and nods once, popping off the cap. The antidote goes in with a slight sting, and I grit my teeth at the knowledge of a needle currently being in my arm. Ergh. I hate them so much.
“Done,” she says softly, as she pulls it out and the cap clicks back on.
Then I feel it. The hum of my flame. The pulse of my magic beneath my skin.
Power floods through me, warm and alive, coiling like liquid sunlight in my veins.
I shudder, closing my eyes as the heat rises in my chest. It feels amazing.
No longer do I feel repulsed at the feeling of the flame’s magic beneath my skin.
No, I feel alive. I feel powerful. I feel almost whole again.
The immortality magic settles in too, my aches and pains already dulling, my wounds working at healing themselves instantly.
“Gods, I’ll never take my power for granted again,” I murmur with a soft sigh.
Selunea smiles faintly, her eyes glistening. “You shouldn’t.”
I take her hands, feeling the tremor in her fingers. “You’ve saved me. Now I’m going to save you. I’ll bring you home with me. You deserve safety. Peace. Happiness. You deserve all of that.”
Her lips part in shock, deep-black eyes shimmering like molten silver from her unshed tears. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t burden you like that, Daisy.”
“You wouldn’t be a burden,” I insist, squeezing her hands. “You’d be pulled into my chaotic family, as one of our own.”
A single tear slides down her cheek, catching the torchlight. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice breaking as her lower lip trembles.
I pull her into another hug and let myself enjoy the comfort for a moment.
Then, I step back, resolve hardening in my chest. “Show me to Kaelith’s chambers,” I say with a voice that’s calm and steady.
Because for the first time since he took me, I can feel it again.
The fire. The fury. The crown. It’s time to show the world the kind of queen Korithax created.
Moving through the servant tunnels feels wrong in every way.
It’s narrow, damp, and the air carries a tainted energy of all the souls who’ve walked through here before.
Selunea glides ahead of me, like a living shadow, shoulders hunched against the chill.
My heart’s pounding so loud it sounds like someone is walking the tunnels beside us.
I should’ve gone for Maelkar first. I should have brought him with me.
But going for him would mean more footprints, more time, more chances to be caught.
If Kaelith realises I’ve been freed, and by one of his own servants, he’d slit both our throats without a second thought.
“This is it,” Selunea whispers, so soft I can barely hear her.
She’s violently trembling from fear, and the sight of it turns my stomach.
What has this bastard done to her for her to respond like this?
My heart aches for her, but I quickly push those feelings aside.
There’s no time for pity. Sympathy will get me killed.
I can’t let myself be in my head or feelings right now.
“Stay here,” I whisper back calmly. “Do not come out until I tell you to. Understood?”
She nods once, wrapping her slender arms around herself.
I pass her the cloak to keep safe, and to make herself warmer.
I can’t have anything restricting me right now.
I’ve trained with Maelkar for a while now, and I like to think I’ve come pretty far.
But Kaelith is powerful, and I know this isn’t going to be easy.
Training doesn’t make you immune to the sick, lurching panic that comes when you realise you have to kill a man who has a hand in creating people’s worst nightmares.
I press my face to the tiny gap between the passage door and the stone, and peer through.
He’s there—tall, composed, and watching the world beyond the window without a single care in the world.
The evening lights smear over his shoulders.
He looks absurdly peaceful. But I know I’m staring at a predator in a suit.
With one final steady breath, I quietly push open the door with the slightest of movements, grimacing at the slight creak the hinges give.
Well… there goes my sneak attack. I unsheathe my dagger, feeling its familiar weight in my palm, and step into the room with my spine straight, and my jaw clenched.
“It’s about time the help arrived. I need my hair—” He cuts himself off mid-sentence as he turns, the words dying in his throat the instant he realises I’m not one of his serving girls.
Silence slams down between us. His expression shifts in slow, terrible stages. Irritation to confusion, confusion to disbelief, then disbelief to something sharp and dangerous. The room shrinks around us, the air thickening until even breathing feels like an effort.
His gaze drops to the dagger in my hand. Then back to my face.
I give him a vicious smile, rolling the blade once across my fingers, letting the steel catch the torchlight. “Hello, Duskwalker.”