Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Araya knew the moment Elise brought a woolen dress instead of a clean shift that her reprieve was over.
The healer didn’t speak as she helped Araya into it, her hands quick and careful as she did up the laces Araya’s own fingers were shaking too badly to manage. But her expression stayed carefully blank, her silence saying more than any words could have ever communicated.
Araya closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath as Jaxon’s voice rose beyond the curtain, his laugh too loud in the quiet space that had become her sanctuary.
Loren had endured twenty-five years of torture at the hands of people like Darian Hale.
Surely she could endure whatever Jaxon and Caylin did to her here.
“Ah, Miss Starwind.” Hayes barely glanced at her as he pulled the curtain back. “How nice to see you up and dressed. Quite the difference from how you arrived.”
“She certainly looks better,” Garrick Shaw said, his sharp eyes sweeping over her. “Is she recovered?”
“She’s stable,” Hayes said. “Physically at least. I’ll have to insist you wait another few weeks on any further physical trauma,” he added, glancing at Jaxon. “Her body has been through a difficult recovery. Magic speeds things along, but nothing can replace time for healing, unfortunately.”
Jaxon’s mouth tightened, irritation flashing there before he smoothed it away. “Master Pryce won’t be involved moving forward.”
“Yes,” Garrick cut in smoothly. “We’ve decided to move in another direction with our approach. When was Miss Starwind’s last cycle? I know fae fertility isn’t your area of study, but we’d appreciate any insight you have.”
Araya’s stomach dropped, the brief flash of relief she’d felt curdling into something cold and nauseating.
“Ah,” Hayes hummed, frowning. “I’ll defer to my apprentice on that. She’s much closer to her instruction on fae biology than I am.”
Elise looked like she might be sick as everyone turned to look at her, her knuckles white where her hands twisted in her blue robes.
“Miss Starwind’s last recorded cycle was approximately three weeks ago,” she said, her voice wavering. “Of course, fae fertility is difficult to track. There are a lot of variables we don’t wholly understand—”
“But to the best of our ability?” Hayes prompted.
Elise swallowed. “Yes. There is a reasonable chance Miss Starwind is currently or will be fertile in the near future.”
“Now,” Hayes admonished. “We aren’t set up to oversee a fae pregnancy here, Commander Shaw. If she does take, you’ll have to transfer back to Aetheris with her for proper care—”
The words blurred together, drowned out as the roaring in Araya’s ears swelled. Another direction. This had always been the ultimate threat, hadn’t it? And now they were going to see it through.
They only shackled her wrists for the walk back to Jaxon’s tent. Araya barely saw anything they passed, the curious gazes of the soldiers sliding off of her like water. Her own heartbeat was a drum pounding in her ears, the ground tilting under her feet.
She was probably fertile right now. With no ta’nara rune to protect her.
“Drain her first,” Garrick said. “Down to the dregs. Fae magic works on will, so that should give you a better chance. I assume you have the mechanics well in hand—”
“Gods—” Jaxon caught Araya by the arm, urging her up the short steps to his tent. “Yes, father. I’m familiar.”
“Good,” Garrick said, mounting the steps behind them. “It’s very important—”
“It’s very important that you not stand outside my doorway,” Jaxon said flatly. “For the love of all the gods, Father, find something else to do.”
Garrick paused, one foot on the step. He stared at his son for a long moment, his lips tight.
“Very well,” he said finally. “But don’t disappoint me again, Jaxon. You aren’t the only Shaw capable of siring a child.”
Araya flinched, only Jaxon’s iron grip on her arm keeping her from turning tail and fleeing, no matter how futile it would be. Hot tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as Jaxon pulled her into the tent, the flap falling closed behind them.
“Araya,” he murmured, almost startled by her tears. “Starling, it’s alright.” He drew her close, tucking her into his arms. “It’s alright. It won’t come to that. I won’t let it.”
Araya shook her head, twisting against his grip—but Jaxon only tightened his hold, his hands unyielding as he pressed her back until the edge of the cot struck the back of her knees.
“I know you’re scared,” he murmured into her hair. “I know this isn’t what you want.”
His heavy hands forced her down, her legs buckling. He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands stroking a gentle path up and down her calves.
“We’ve known each other a long time, Starling,” he said. “This doesn’t have to be ugly, does it? It’s better for both of us if it isn’t.”
He wanted her permission. The realization lodged in Araya’s chest, stealing her breath away. Not because he cared about her—but because a willing female conceived more easily.
“Get your fucking hands off me,” she snarled, planting both palms against his chest and shoving him as hard as she could.
Jaxon swore, stumbling back a step. But he didn’t let go of her arm. ”You’re making this harder than it has to be,” he warned. “If you just—fuck!”
Araya lashed out again blindly, her heel striking something solid.
His fingers bit into her flesh as she twisted against his grip, tearing herself half-free—but he was stronger than her.
He always had been. He put his whole weight against her, crushing her into the sheets as he pinned her arms behind her back with one hand.
“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “How dare you strike me?”
His other hand closed on the back of her dress, yanking. Fabric tore, stinging her skin. Araya shuddered as his fingers trailed down her back, bumping over the knobs of her spine as he gathered her skirts with his other hand.
“You’re acting like I’m some kind of monster,” he said, his breath hot against her skin. “But you’re the one who sold yourself to me. First for an apprenticeship and then again for a warm bed in a nice building. You took everything I gave you and begged for more.”
Araya shook her head. Tears blinded her, the room turning into nothing but blurry shapes and vanilla-scented sheets. This was going to happen. She couldn’t stop it.
“Please,” she begged. “Please don’t. If you ever cared about me—”
“Shut up you stupid bitch,” he hissed, his weight settling against her. “And stop fucking crying.”
The order choked her sobs in her throat, her breath hitching in small, broken gasps.
The humiliating tears dried in streaks on her cheeks, the taste of salt and blood flooding her mouth as he crushed her face into the mattress.
His hand gripped her hip so hard she was sure there would be bruises tomorrow, the cot shifting under them as he fumbled with the laces of his breeches.
“Damn it—” Jaxon grunted. “Gods above, why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?”
Araya stifled a gasp as the cot shifted again, the weight of Jaxon’s body vanishing.
She didn’t stop to second-guess it, scrambling across the cot to put as much space between them as she could.
Her ruined dress bunched around her waist, slipping precariously as she snatched the blanket, clutching it to her chest like it could shield her from him.
“You stupid whore.” Jaxon’s chest heaved, his face flushed red with fury and something darker—humiliation curdling into rage. “You didn’t have any problem spreading your legs for him, did you?”
Araya flinched, expecting him to lunge across the cot and drag her back. But before he could so much as take a step, conversation rose outside the tent, one familiar voice rising over the guards as they tried to rebuff him.
“Jaxon!” Kai shouted. “Stop! This hasn’t been sanctioned—no, get off me!”
“Fuck,” Jaxon muttered. He bent down, pulling up his trousers. “Cover yourself up,” he ordered. “Kai has delicate sensibilities.”
Araya huddled under her blanket, every breath thin and shallow as she watched Jaxon cross the tent and throw open the flap so fast that Kai practically fell into the tent.
“Gods—” Kai gaped at her for a moment before seeming to remember himself. He looked away, his cheeks flushing. “Tell me you didn’t, Jaxon.”
“What do you care?” Jaxon yanked his shirt straight, shoving it back into his pants before lacing them with angry, tight movements.
“Why don’t you?” Kai demanded. “She’s a person.”
“She’s fae.” Jaxon poured two glasses of amber liquor from a decanter on the desk, shoving one toward Kai. “What do you want?”
“Caylin is looking for you,” Kai said.
“Gods save me.” Jaxon tossed his glass back and reached for the second when Kai made no move to take it. “I have no idea how you tolerated that woman for so long. I already told her she was done here. She should be packing to go back to Aetheris.”
“You can’t just send her away,” Kai said. “Her father is High Inquisitor. He could ruin your career if you send her back angry.”
“It was my father’s decision,” Jaxon grumbled. “She can be angry at him.”
“Have you met her?” Kai asked. “She’ll still do everything in her power to sink your career over it.”
Jaxon groaned, glancing back at Araya. She shrank back at what she saw in his eyes, making herself as small as possible.
“Better safe than sorry,” Kai warned. “Caylin can and will make your life hell.” He glanced at Araya too, his laugh strained. “Besides, it’s not like she’s going anywhere.”
“Fine.” Air rushed back into Araya’s lungs as Jaxon turned away. He set his glass down on the desk too hard, grabbing his coat from the chair. “But you have to be the one to tell my father why it’s not done.”
He strode for the tent flap without looking back, irritation radiating off him in waves. Kai followed a step behind, pausing only long enough to cast one last glance in her direction before the tent flap fell shut behind them.
For a few seconds, Araya didn’t move. She stayed exactly as she was, hunched beneath the blanket. Her head spun, her heart pounding like it would escape the cage of her ribs. Relief warred with terror, part of her still waiting for him to come back through the tent flap and finish what he started.
But he didn’t. Not yet, at least.
Araya curled up into a ball, the blanket still clutched to her chest. She had survived Kaldrath. But she didn’t know if she could survive this.
Alone in Jaxon Shaw’s tent, Araya pressed her forehead to her knees and let herself sob.