Chapter 19
I sat and cracked an eyelid open when the weighted movement of my arms and legs resulted in a ring and clank.
Getting to this point had taken the colossal effort of unsticking my tongue from the roof of my mouth, and then fighting back unconsciousness to remain awake. After all that, I’d still had to encourage my body to move and my eyes to open.
I was chained to the wall.
My body and mind were so wrung out that I couldn’t bring myself to care. Just remain upright.
Once I’d achieved ten or twenty swaying minutes of that, I stared around the room.
“Bunker,” I rasped.
Not the dungeon. Which would have been better because…
I screwed up my face. Because I was safer there.
Because of the… Istg!
My eyes widened. Because the Istg were healers against the bad white magic. Which was from Tyran.
I’d completed another ritual with Carmine, so Tyran’s magic had filled me again, and—I blanched—Neti and the others had healed me again.
Trembling claimed my body and mind after that. Shock. Total shock and disbelief that I’d survived that experience, that impossible pain. I choked back bile and couldn’t help the gulping sobs. How had I lived through that, and had I really survived?
All I knew was that I’d never been afraid of pain, and now I was. I’d learned what pain could be, and that more of the same pain awaited me, and Carmine too.
Except it wouldn’t be the same. The pain would be worse.
Tyran’s power riddled Carmine. My plan had always been to heal my mate, but suddenly, that no longer felt feasible after experiencing a lesser version of the healing Carmine had to go through to be free.
I also couldn’t be sure that Neti would care about whether Carmine lived when the Istg agenda for the last five thousand years had been to eradicate Tyran’s power and ideals from the realm.
I dropped my head into shaking hands and breathed for what felt like hours until my heart calmed and I could shove some of my fear and panic aside.
I was still here.
Chained, but still here.
The chains did imply I was a prisoner. Likely because I’d been caught in the same desert shack as before with Tyran’s enemies healing me.
He must know I wasn’t filled with his power anymore.
Perhaps he’d guessed everything—that I was siphoning his white magic and healing it away.
That I planned to heal Carmine. That I had a means to end his reign for good, and the rituals were a way to weaken him.
Would a very cunning five-thousand-year-old demon connect all of that?
I eyed the chains. The assumption should be yes.
Fuck.
Okay. What else could I remember? I screwed up my face. We’d completed the ritual—no complaints on that part. I’d been out of it for a few days. Carmine less than me.
I’d woken as a monster bitch, but Carmine had gone to Earth that same day. I hadn’t had time to wreak havoc. That was a relief.
My eyes narrowed while remembering the way Athira had lured me to the desert. Then I snorted. What a bitch. She’d made me think Carmine and Darthy’s love child was out here and ready to threaten the throne.
Effective.
Tsan had been there too. I sucked in a breath. Where were they now?
I couldn’t remember what happened to them, only that Tyran had arrived, and even stepped out into the desert to collect me.
He must’ve seen Neti and the others. My head panged, and I rubbed my temples.
Get it together, Syera.
If Tsan and Athira were alive, then they could fill me in. Maybe. The main issue was that Tyran likely knew everything now, so making any move just became very difficult.
Communicating with anyone… difficult.
Negotiating the last ritual… difficult.
Saving Carmine, our son, and ending this war… difficult.
Hopelessness threatened to pound me to dust in the wake of Neti chewing me up and spitting me out in her “healing.” Impossibilities crushed me.
But I hadn’t come this far to fail.
Life couldn’t be so fucking cruel as to rob me of so much after all I’d been through. I had to believe in that. So what could I do?
I rattled the chains. Iron. Infused with Carmine’s magic. My power felt raw and vulnerable, like a turtle hiding in its shell. These chains would be hard to break, but I should be able to do it with enough power. Which Tyran would know. They were more symbolic than anything. I hoped.
My power would return soon enough, and that would give me more options.
I straightened. I could still talk to Carmine in our dreams!
Speaking of our mating bond… we’d completed another ritual.
What could we do now? I dove inward to my heart and the iron casing around it.
Warmth flooded me at the sight of crimson cracks all through my iron casing.
While the cracks might give the idea of a weakened casing, the opposite was true.
Our mating bond and his power had permeated that iron to reinforce it.
As my power had done for his too.
What we’d shared was precious and sacred beyond words, and whatever had since transpired, I was so grateful to have experienced that with him.
I remained in that warmth, obeying my instincts, and gradually I became aware of my strength and hope returning. Though the quality was different. Not mine. A smile curved my lips as I realized Carmine was sending me the feelings.
I followed his power through my body. I magically floated after that awareness through the fortress to where Carmine was—in war council.
Apart from what he was sending me, my mate was furious. He wanted to destroy, but he was tired too. His power wasn’t at 100 percent.
I pulled back into myself and stared at the opposite stone wall. Whoa.
I could feel what Carmine felt. I was pretty sure none of that was from Tyran.
If I could feel Carmine, then he would have felt me.
Which explained why Tyran had stepped foot into the desert.
Carmine would have felt me giving up on life.
He probably thought someone was killing me.
He would have told Tyran. Perhaps hiding his reaction proved impossible too.
“Dammit,” I muttered.
Would this prove to be a weakness? If Tyran could feel what I felt, that could be a big problem.
I wouldn’t have expected Tyran to have access to the mating bond in this way, and yet he’d barged into the desert, so he had to know. I really had to get into a dream with Carmine to figure out the parameters of our new gift.
Until then, my only plan was to recover strength. I kicked aside a length of chain to give me enough space to curl up on the stone platform. I ignored the bite of metal against my wrists as I gave in to the immense weariness beating down on me.
This had a solution. I just couldn’t find it right now.
In the absence of my own hope, I clung to the trickle of Carmine’s, then closed my eyes.