Chapter 32
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why the fuck hadn’t I warned Nayana in time that my asshole of a grandfather would lead us to his most favorite place in the entirety of Alaiann, if not Galanta—his personal underground lair.
One I was more intimately acquainted with than I liked to admit.
And if she’d already almost broken down in the corridor leading to the horrors lying in front of us, how could she hold up the charade during what was bound to happen?
For now, my magic had dragged her out of her own head, but once we arrived at our destination, I couldn’t comfort her without blowing our cover.
I seriously doubted I would manage to maintain the ruse if she was so obviously suffering. But if I failed, the consequences would be even worse. Fuck.
Please, Kalag, grant Nayana your support to find the strength to harness her resilience.
Otherwise, fighting the pressure to protect her from every bit of discomfort would be impossible.
The dark, primal force inside of me was already thrashing against the chains holding the energy captive, not understanding that aiding her would hurt her more in the long run—or that I couldn’t simply dispose of the threat my grandfather posed.
The compulsion was beyond reason, beyond calculation—only the purest, darkest instinct.
And its influence was growing. Exponentially.
The cavern reserved—as far as I knew—exclusively for tormenting me, was close. The prominent sickly green shimmer, still barely visible, told me as much.
Reluctantly, I discharged Nayana from my magic.
A single tendril escaped my control, and I was unable to call back my wayward power as it snuck under her skirts, where it curled around her thigh.
If I didn’t have bigger problems at this moment, I’d worry a lot more about why the fuck my magic escalated into disobedience to me at an increasing rate lately.
Nayana’s fingers brushed against my hand as I released her biceps, relaying her gratitude and telling me she was fine, all through the tiny contact. How I understood so much in such a small gesture, I couldn’t even fathom.
“You know the drill, Scriosta.”
“Intimately.” My jaw locked, and my teeth screamed under pressure as I sauntered over to the far wall.
“And you, human scum, place your unworthy body over there.”
My breath got stuck in my lungs as the creature inside me rattled its chains.
How did he dare insult her the whole fucking time?
Seconds away from spinning around and snarling at Galrach, I clamped down hard on the urge to maim, kill, destroy. On repetition, those words rose to a crescendo in my brain, only battled by my reason yelling against the chanted order to protect her at all costs.
When I reached the rough stone wall, which was illuminated by the usual foul green flickering of the glowing moss growing all over almost every surface of the cavern, I extended my fingers, skimming over the only expanse not covered by the sentient plant.
A multitude of winters ago, the interconnected creature had tried to reclaim this spot over and over again, but at one point, the pest had given up.
A blessing, to be honest.
At least, I would never have to endure the millions of small, needle-like hooks the nameless plague used as roots. A cold shudder ran down my spine at the memory.
“Turn around.” My grandfather’s order interrupted my contemplation, and after steeling my expression, I obeyed. The second of hesitation would cost me dearly enough.
As I faced Galrach, who’d pursued me and stilled only a handful of paces away from me, bile rose in my throat, burning like acid.
Sadistic glee was written all over the king’s features, but that wasn’t new. Still, the triumphant line in the cruel curl of his lip had my nerves quivering with agitation.
Despite all odds being stacked against me, another provocation was due, if only to lessen his suspicions. “As usual? Or have you finally come up with a variation? If not, your imagination is truly lacking. No wonder I’m bored out of my mind.”
Just as I’d hoped, something snapped inside the High King. His hand shot out and encircled my throat, controlling my airways, and yet, although I groaned under his assault, my lips contorted into a feral smirk.
In our eternal war, he might have won every single battle so far, and he had the upper hand when it came to our direct confrontations, but I’d show him that in a fight of wits, I’d become a worthy opponent.
“Look at that. Someone is under the impression that he has grown a spine. Pathetic.”
The pressure around my throat tightened, and I couldn’t answer, although several retorts to his insult lingered on the tip of my tongue.
As long as Galrach was concentrating on me, Nayana was safe from his ire. To ensure her safety, I hadn’t dared to glance at her once, just so the psychotic High King had one less reason to remember her. At least the piece of magic pulsing around her thigh provided me with a sense of her location.
As I tuned in to my powers, I found her muscles taut to the extreme, vibrating with withheld tension, no matter how much the tendril tried to calm her down.
During the past few months, I’d become so attuned to her that, solely from the energy emanating from her, I could tell how valiant she fought against herself not to intervene.
She hated to see me like this, maybe just as much as I despised her witnessing me at my lowest.
But—
Gentle fingers feathered over the tendril, and the tender caress shot right into my heart as if she’d touched me directly, filling me with resolve, even as my vision blurred and black spots danced in front of my eyes.
A fire erupted in my soul and spread through my body.
Even the chained primal beast was momentarily pacified.
As oxygen-deprived and as disgusted as I was by the stench of rot and decay intensifying with each excited breath of Galrach, an epiphany still reached my consciousness.
Yes, craving for a person so deeply that it hurt was maybe the greatest weakness in existence, just as I’d always feared.
But I’d never considered that such a chink in my armor could be balanced out by the immense strength I’d be able to draw from what I’d always scoffed at as vulnerability.
Nayana showed me time and time again that caring for someone—for her—was worth any hardship and was what I was fighting for.
My screaming lungs were ready to collapse, and lightning flashed in front of my vision when Galrach finally let go of my throat.
I was gulping down precious air, temporarily too weak to show any resistance, as he grabbed my wrists and forced them into the restraints embedded in the solid rock over my head.
As usual, he closed them too tightly and, with practiced ease, repeated the motion with my ankles.
Still out of breath, I couldn’t stop myself from taunting him some more.
My head urged me to rile him up, even found the conception enjoyable, and I was confident enough he wouldn’t kill me outright.
The satisfaction would be worth the escalation of his punishment.
“You know, Galrach. One day, you’ll prostrate yourself at my feet.
Not because you chain me to the wall like a petty prisoner.
No, you’ll be on your knees, bowing to my power, begging for mercy—and finding none. ”
Grandfather straightened, and the anger I’d expected was suspiciously absent. “Big words for someone at my goodwill. And no matter how much you wish for your pretty little self-deceptions to come true, the reality is that your predicament will never change, Scriosta.”
Gods, how I longed to punch the patronizing expression out of his face.
“But you and I both apperceive that, as usual, I will forgive you for your revenge fantasies and misguided insubordination once we are done here. Of course, you are susceptible to delusions of grandeur when everyone usually treats you as the pinnacle of creation. That is hardly a surprise. But you should be thankful that I take the arduous task of reining you in upon myself.”
“So thankful, Your Royal Majesty. Honestly, what would I do without your constant pursuit of flaunting your imaginary superiority? The whole situation is especially funny when you recall who the sole reason for a united Galanta is and who still secures your claim to the Eternal Throne.”
“Oh Scriosta, of course, you are making everything about you again. But it is the brain that steers the brawn. One day, you will learn. Well, if you finally begin to pay attention.”
My power exploded as Galrach had the audacity to pat my cheek in a condescending way, and only with the last frayed thread of my restraint did I control the path my magic took, so nothing connected with the High King—or with Nayana.
A spear of agony drilled into my brain anyway, erupting in my head, blinding me for the moment, and my reason fractured further when my grandfather only laughed.
“I have to say, whatever changed during your little excursion turned you into something much more interesting to experiment with. You behaved quite apathetically during the last century and a half. You might even say I was…bored by you.”
As I was still recovering from the self-imposed blast to my senses, my lips remained sealed in a thin line, and when my grandfather grabbed my hair, he yanked my head back.
My brain rattled even more as my skull slammed against the wall.
Dodging the blow hadn’t been possible; my current state didn’t allow me to resist Galrach’s ministrations.
Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. He was going all in today, wasn’t he?
Groaning as a foul energy snaked through my body from where his hands touched me, attacking everything in its path and latching onto my skin from within, the agony of my own rotting flesh threatened to tear me asunder.