Chapter 20 Unraveled
Unraveled
“Don’t get any dumb ideas,” one of the men snarled, tightening his grip before hurling Luna down in front of the throne.
“Did you enjoy the ball?” King Hendrix asked with a deep chuckle, tapping his fingers together, looking too comfortable on his throne. Pure evil scarred his face, twisting it ugly.
She stared up at him through her lashes, eyes shimmering with tears, not understanding. Red-cloaked men lined the throne room, their bloodstained blades sheathed at their sides. Slowly, the events of the night snapped together.
The king laughed, and his men joined in; their voices echoed off the walls, mocking her—taunting her. As if tonight had all been a joke, and the joke was her.
“What’s so funny about people dying?” she demanded, rising to her feet. With a rigid, straight spine, despite the trembling of her limbs, she stared down the king. “Your people,” she corrected, accentuating each word.
The room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the king.
He stepped forward, his boots reverberating against the floorboards as he approached.
A surge of dread shot through her as his fingers curled beneath her chin, forcing her head upward until she had no choice but to look him in the eye.
“You tell me unicorn.” His touch was cold, pressing bruises into her flesh as his soulless eyes bored into hers, stripping her of every defense she had left.
“Tonight was merely a sample of the kingdom’s future.
Their deaths—and every death yet to come—could have been prevented by you alone.
” His voice lowered dangerously, a whisper sharper than any blade.
“Transform. Complete the protection ceremonies, and your loved ones will remain safe.”
So, he had orchestrated the whole thing—everything: The violence, the slaughter, each agonizing moment of this night, was all a ploy to get her to transform.
How dare he. She balled her hands into fists, rage surging through her, white-hot and consuming, coiling tightly in her hands. “You’re a monster.”
Her words drew a ripple of laughter from the cloaked figures around her, as if these men found it ironic that she was calling him a monster when she, in their eyes, was the beast.
King Hendrix rolled his shoulders back, eyes gleaming. “I gave you an opportunity. You chose not to rise to the occasion. The blood spilled tonight stains your hands, not mine.”
She glared at the men standing at the room’s edges, still wearing their masks and red cloaks.
Venita’s lifeless body flashed vividly in her mind, and the memory of tripping over Diera’s corpse was still fresh and raw.
Panic tightened its grip, twisting painfully inside her.
She didn’t even know where her mother, father, or Emily were.
For all she knew, their blood could be painting the floors somewhere too.
How far would he go? How many innocent lives would he destroy to force her hand?
Her magic warmed beneath her skin, pooling dangerously at her fingertips, aching to break free.
“You could’ve prevented this,” the king said, his voice dripping with disdain, “but you chose to stand by, watching as strangers and friends were slaughtered.” He shook his head slowly, eyes cold and calculated.
“I even gave you a wounded guard to rescue, and still, you refused. Truly, you and your kind know nothing of kindness, of heart.”
If anyone in the room was heartless, it was him. His cruelty knew no bounds—though, she supposed, she hadn’t done anything to stop it. Maybe he had a point . . .
The throne room doors slammed open, interrupting the tense silence. A guard burst inside, nearly stumbling as he rushed to kneel before the king.
“This better be good news, Oden,” King Hendrix growled, shoving Luna aside to return to his throne. She crashed onto the cold floor, limbs sprawled, her will to fight nearly extinguished.
Oden visibly trembled, every muscle quivering as he spoke, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. We’ve searched high and low. There’s no sign of the prisoner anywhere.”
Luna couldn’t hide the smile that spread slowly across her lips; at least some justice was being served.
The king, who had so arrogantly orchestrated the ball to celebrate the capture of a unicorn, now stood empty-handed, his victory snatched away.
Hopefully, Damien—or whoever the unicorn had been—was free and as far away from here as possible.
King Hendrix’s face twisted in fury, fists slamming violently against his throne. “Search harder!” The command was so loud the ceiling shook from his might. “Do not return until he is found!”
Oden scrambled out of the room, running like his life depended on it . . . now knowing the king for who he truly was, maybe it did.
The heavy door closed, and King Hendrix turned his attention back to her; his eyes narrowed to slits, hatred pouring off him.
Usually, such malevolence would have caused Luna to shrink away, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She would not cower from evil. Her gaze hardened, her hands growing hotter and hotter as she let her anger flow through her. “I will never help you,” she declared, voice unwavering.
He leaned forward, a sinister smile curling on his lips. “By the time I’m done with you, there will be no other choice—especially if you want your family to remain alive.”
His words hit her like a punch to the gut, stealing her breath, sending the world spinning around her. Her family was alive? Hope ignited in her chest, followed quickly by a wave of dread . . . he fully intended to use them against her.
With a snap of his fingers, Clyde emerged from the shadows. “Throw her in the dungeons.”
Before Luna could move, Clyde crossed the room and lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing, and roughly set her on her feet before dragging her from the throne room.
The doors shut behind them with a heavy click, the sound utterly final. If life was a book filled with chapters, hers must be nearing the end. She’d rather face death than help the king now, even if it meant risking everything, including the fate of her family.
They moved through the winding halls, eventually passing through the one with the secret passage.
She had been moments away from escaping then.
If she had gotten free, maybe there wouldn’t have been any bloodshed.
She shook her head. It did her little good to think about the what-ifs; she had returned to the ball, and what had happened, had happened.
Clyde gripped her arm even tighter. He must have been thinking about the secret passage as well.
She looked at him: At his brown eyes, at the way his blond hair dusted the back of his neck with curls that had never been tamed.
How had she ever cared for a man like him?
“Did you know about the attack beforehand?” Though she believed she already knew the answer, she wanted to hear it from his lips.
He scoffed at her as if she were some foolish girl.
“Of course I did. Don’t you get it? I was the backup plan.
You were supposed to transform out of the supposed love we shared.
The truth is, I despise your kind. Unicorns killed my mother.
You’re just like the rest of them—self-absorbed, hateful, and utterly stupid. ”
His words cut deep, a fresh wound over all the others she carried. Even now, after everything, he still had the power to hurt her.
He had been her first love, the keeper of her heart, and she’d given so much to him. Risked so much for him. Betrayed didn’t even begin to capture how she felt. “All those things you said to me,” she whispered, pain cracking her voice, “were just lies?”
“The king thought you’d be more compliant if you were in love, so I pursued you. I thought you’d help boost my ranking, we’d be nobility together. But every moment spent with you was wasted. Every second, for nothing.”
Luna’s heart splintered. Everything had been a lie; every hope, every dream, every whispered promise . . . lies. “You never loved me?” It didn’t seem possible.
He grabbed both of her arms and pinned them behind her back. “This is how much I loved you.”
The next thing she knew, he’d spit in her face.
She tried to lift her hand to wipe it off as tears welled, but Clyde kept her arms pinned behind her, so she was forced to let his spit roll down her cheek; it was warm and slightly sticky, and as they walked, it dried, leaving a cakey feeling on her skin.
Luna hung her head, shame flooding every inch of her body.
She felt incredibly small and so very pathetic.
Clyde’s attention had blinded her; she’d never even suspected his affection was self-serving.
A whimper escaped before she could stop it, her breath hitching painfully.
She had walked willingly into his trap, trusting too easily, and now humiliation coiled tightly in her chest.
Her vision blurred, tears hot and stinging, but she blinked them back. Later, when she was alone, she’d let herself fall to pieces, but until then she needed to be strong.
They rounded a corner, stepping into an empty hall.
Luna’s thoughts were so tangled that, at first, she didn’t notice the subtle movement of shadows crawling along the walls.
The darkness pulsed with fury, like a growing fire.
Slowly, they gathered, dark tendrils weaving together until they formed the silhouette of a man.
Damien leaned casually against the wall, as if appearing from nowhere was a normal occurrence. Given all Luna knew of him, it very well could be. Magic, black and potent, danced around Damien’s fingertips, a silent threat in the dim corridor.
Clyde immediately reached for his sword, but Damien was faster.
Before he could unsheathe it, shadowy magic shot from Damien’s hands, wrapping around Clyde’s wrists and pinning them behind him.
Freed, Luna stumbled forward and ran to Damien, not allowing Clyde the chance to use his blade against her again.
Clyde struggled, groaning against Damien’s shadows.
The magic coiled up his arms, clinging to him.
With excruciating slowness, he battled Damien’s power, somehow managing to unsheathe his sword.
His entire body shook violently, as if the weapon were impossibly heavy in his grasp.
“You won’t get away with this,” he snarled at Damien, his voice ragged with strain. “Everyone is looking for you.”
Damien didn’t appear to hear him, though; his eyes were glued to Luna.
A black shadow lifted off the ground, snaking up her body, and wrapping around her torso, up to her chin. The shadow was like a cool mist as it brushed against her cheek. “Who did this to you?” Damien growled—his voice was low, dangerous.
Luna suspected he already knew the answer, but he followed her gaze anyway, his attention locking on Clyde. “Oh”—he chuckled darkly—“you’re gonna regret that.”
“The only thing I regret,” Clyde sneered, “is not killing you when I had the chance!”
Damien cracked his neck, and his shadows sent Clyde sprawling to the ground. “If you can’t keep your mouth shut, I will do it for you.”
He then turned back to Luna, his expression smoothing into something unreadable . . . like the calm before the storm. His gaze swept over her, taking in every detail: the ruined dress, the bruises, the tension taut in her frame. “Tell me, did he hurt you?”
Yes. My heart. My head. Everything. But she didn’t tell him that. Instead, she swallowed hard and said, “I’m fine. Tell me you can get us out of here.”
His silence was heavier than words as he cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his; she knew he saw everything she tried to hide.
Gently, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The fragile wall that was keeping her calm broke. Her bottom lip quivered, her body tensing as she fought against it—but the shaking started anyway. Small at first, barely noticeable, until it overtook her completely.
Damien wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him and whispered, “It’s okay, I’m here now. No one is going to harm you.” He held her until her shaking subsided as if he wasn’t an escaped prisoner being hunted down and they had all the time in the world.
“I’m going to get us out of here one way or another,” he said, finally answering her question. “But first, turn around and cover your ears.”
She did as he instructed. But, even with her hands covering her ears, she still heard Damien’s taunting voice as he mocked Clyde, “I’ve been dreaming of the day we were reunited.”
There was a flash of blackness, a sickening crunch, then an agonizing scream.
Damien purred. “Music to my ears, but we can’t have your suffering bring others.”
The darkness lashed out again, and Clyde’s screams turned into muffled sobs.
So many lines had been crossed tonight that Damien’s actions almost felt like justice, but guilt clawed at Luna’s heart, sharp and unrelenting.
If only she were stronger, she wouldn’t be helpless, wouldn’t need someone else to fight her battles, or save her like a damsel in distress.
Keeping her back to Clyde, she said softly to Damien, “You didn’t have to do that. ”
Damien put an arm around her and guided her away from the scene. “He won’t raise a sword against you again.”
An urge to go back and spit on Clyde’s broken body overwhelmed her, but she resisted, knowing it would do nothing to help her heal.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of dragging her down to his level.
As she walked with Damien, she lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back.
This was her moment to rise above, reclaim her strength, and she refused to waste it on someone who no longer mattered.