Chapter 51
MYRA
Myra jumped as Laurince’s chair crashed to the ground.
"Who the fuck are you?" Laurince demanded, standing.
"Oh, come now, Mys. Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?" Armen hissed, his head cocking to the side in an almost birdlike fashion.
Myra’s former lover stood in the middle of the doorway, blocking their only exit.
Shadows painted the hall behind him. His blond hair was cut short in its normal fashion.
His shoes were impeccably polished, and the light in the room bounced off them perfectly.
Yet there was something off about him, something that Myra couldn’t quite pinpoint.
When she reached out for the invisible strand, it lashed out at her. Her gift recoiled, retreating inside her. She thought they had parted on good terms, but the way Armen surveyed her suggested otherwise.
"I’m Armen. Although, I’m sure you’ve heard of me," he said with a wink.
Laurince shrugged, though his fingers twitched at his sides. "Name doesn’t ring a bell, actually."
Armen clicked his tongue in dismay and looked at Myra. He pressed a palm to his chest. "Ouch, Mys. That hurts."
Myra stood there dumbfounded.
"What? Are you not happy to see me?"
"W-why are you here? I thought you were in Pontia," Myra finally forced out. Her eyes dipped over the armor he wore. Not a single scratch marked the metal. Was it new? It looked different.
Armen smirked. "It’s a long story. Perhaps we should sit and chat, no? I think we have some time."
As he stepped further into the light, the shadows followed him.
Myra stumbled backward. Her back hit the table as she gasped in horror.
She had been wrong. Those were not shadows at all. Instead, dark, webbed wings twitched behind him as Armen strolled forward. The corners of his new wings bent as he forced them to fit through the door.
"The staff really needs to work on widening these doors," Armen said, glancing around the pink and purple room.
"Why?" Myra squeaked, her attention fixed on the wings. How many victims had fallen prey to the serum? Armen and Myra might not have been a couple anymore, but she had cared about him once. "Why did you do it?"
Armen swiped a finger over his lips and revealing a smug look. "The king gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse."
Myra’s heart cracked, the consequences of her actions once again slapped her across the face.
Armen turned to Rian, who had been maneuvering toward the other side of the room. "Don’t even get me started on what King Domitius will give me when I hand you over to him."
"That’s if he’s still alive," Rian spat.
Myra prayed Rian was right.
Armen’s lips parted, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but before he could voice it, Laurince charged, sword in hand. Armen ripped his sword from its sheath and blocked Laurince’s attack.
"Shit," Rian hissed, unsheathing his sword.
Laurince and Armen swung, their blades clashing with each strike, with each block. Rian bounced from one foot to the other, trying to find the best time to join the fight.
Laurince’s sword crashed into Armen’s, and his muscles strained against the fabric of his shirt as he braced himself. He spotted Myra out of the corner of his eye. "Get out of here!"
Myra hesitated, her heart racing and panic surging through her.
"Not without you!" Rian ran forward. But before he could reach Laurince, two more guards filtered into the room. One man bore charcoal-feathered wings, and the other had small brown ones.
"You should have left when you had the chance, Your Highness," the first guard hissed with a saccharine smile.
"Fucking traitors," Rian spat. He charged, his sword held high.
"Myra, go!" Laurince shouted in between attacks.
But Myra refused to abandon him. He hadn’t left her behind, so she wouldn’t either.
Myra palmed her small knife and stormed toward the other guard with the smaller set of wings. She repeated Laurince’s training over and over in her mind.
Elbows up. Legs spread apart. Balance even.
When the guard saw her coming, he grinned, amused. "Stupid—"
The man yelped as Myra slid between his legs and sliced an ankle with her blade. Laurince had always said that her speed was her greatest asset.
In her periphery, she spotted Laurince swinging his sword. Armen quickly avoided his attack, spinning around and knocking Laurince’s sword from his hand. The weapon slid across the floor, stopping a few feet from Myra.
On her hands and knees, Myra scurried forward, reaching for the sword.
But when it was only inches away, the ground moved.
Pain spiked in her ankle as the guard grabbed and yanked her back.
Her shirt rode up, and her skin burned as the guard dragged her across the carpet.
Sweat coated her palms, and she tightened her grip on the hilt of her blade, determined not to drop it.
She kicked out frantically, not caring what she hit as long as she hit something.
Then she heard a loud oof, and her foot crashed to the floor.
Myra scrambled, rolling over and pushing herself up to her feet. She sprinted, raising her weapon. But as she made to strike the guard, she stumbled, her right foot sliding on the slick floor.
The man grabbed her arm and twisted her around. Her jaw slammed against the wall, and she yelped. The man smashed her wrist against the wall, and the dagger clattered to the ground.
Grunts and clangs of metal sounded behind her, but every sound was drowned out as the guard twisted her hands behind her back. Her shoulders made a popping noise. A bright white pain sliced through her arm, and she screamed.
She kicked and thrashed. She did whatever she could to escape the man’s grasp. But the man was stronger than she was, more skilled. Tears slipped from her eyes as he grabbed her hands in one of his and yanked her back toward him. His scruff scratched the side of his cheek.
"Oh, am I going to have fun with you," he snarled.
She squirmed against him, but it didn’t stop him from skating his hand up her neck. His fingers wrapped around her throat. He squeezed, cutting off her airway.
Someone shouted behind her. Laurince maybe. She couldn’t tell. Her ears were ringing; her vision was blurring.
"Silly bitch. You thought you could beat me? You are powerless," the man hissed, and spit splashed onto her cheeks.
But Myra wasn’t powerless. She didn’t have to suffer and take the pain that was handed to her.
When she reached for her power, it sprang to greet her. Snatching the man’s emotions, she tugged and poured everything she had into them. Anything and everything to get him to release her.
In an instant, Myra fell to her knees, gasping for air.
Through blurry vision, she spotted another set of knees hitting the ground a few feet away from her. A shriek ripped from her throat as Laurince fell forward and his head smacked against the ground. She cried out and scrambled to reach him just as Rian’s limp body was thrown down beside him.
Sobs overtook her, and Myra struggled to breathe and regain control of her muscles. She grappled for her power, but it was sluggish. She was nearly drained after using it in the village.
She reached for Laurince, and a sharp heel slammed down onto her hand, nearly piercing it. Before Myra could look up to see who stood above her, a familiar voice sounded from the entrance.
"I must say, that wasn’t very fun to watch. The Venerable King and his captain defeated in less than a matter of minutes. Despicable, really," Sebastian scoffed, and his voice caused a spout of nausea to rise in Myra’s throat. "You did well, though, my love."
The heel lifted from Myra’s hand, and her fingers screamed in agony. Myra looked up to find Ferencia sneering down at her.
"You bitch," Laurince spat, his voice heavy and eyes half closed.
Armen slapped him across the face, and Myra winced. Laurince spat blood onto the rose-colored rug, and it dribbled down his chin.
"That was imported!" Ferencia whined, stomping her foot.
"I’ve always"—Laurince spat again—"hated that rug." Blood stained his teeth. The scar he had earned from Mynhos had reopened, and blood dripped from it.
"Gag him already, will you?" Sebastian demanded.
With a slight roll of his eyes, Armen tied a gag around Laurince’s mouth, earning a bite or two from the captain when he got sloppy. Armen clocked Laurince in the back of the head, and the captain went limp. Myra screamed.
"Knock her out, too," Sebastian ordered with a dismissive flick.
"No!" Myra shouted, tears blurring her vision. Her panic and fear flooded her system so violently that she couldn’t reach a single ounce of her power.
A guard tugged her up, and Myra screamed as loud as she could through the sobs that tore her throat. She heard the gust of wind as the guard reared his hand back. Right before he struck, Myra saw Sebastian’s silhouette crouch beside Rian and yank his head up.
"You should have stayed away, brother. Maybe then you would have survived. But you never could let me have anything, could you?" He dropped Rian’s head, letting his forehead smack against the floorboards. "Take them away. We’ll deal with them later."
Then it all went dark.
Myra had thought she was done with dungeons, but when she awoke, she once again found herself locked in a cage.
Somewhere in the dimly lit cell, droplets of water plunked, hitting the cold stone ground. The air was thick with moisture and clung to her skin. The smell of mildew and decay made her nose itch, the scent turning her stomach.
She summoned her gift, needing to find the familiar threads of her friends. Her power was limp in her palm as if it too had been knocked out and was slow to wake. All she could sense was a deep hopelessness that soaked the walls.
With trembling arms, Myra pushed herself off the floor and crept toward the front of the small cell in search of Laurince and Rian.
Her knees scraped against the rough pavement, the coarse stone tugging at her trousers.
When she grabbed the bars to pull herself up, a rod hit her fingers, and she yanked her hand away with a yelp.
"It’s always the pretty ones who seem to waste their lives, isn’t it?
" The guard tilted his head to the side, his gaze skimming down the length of her.
His hand curled around the bars, and he eyed the metal, his fingers dancing across it.
"All it would take is for me to snap these bars like a twig, and then you would—"
"Get away from her!"
Myra nearly collapsed at the sound of Laurince’s voice.
The guard snickered as he turned to the cell next to Myra’s. Myra eyed his brown wings. One was bent more than the other. A bit of pride blossomed in her chest for at least harming him. At least she wasn’t completely useless.
"What will you do if I don’t, captain?" he asked, spitting Laurince’s title at him.
Before Laurince could respond, someone called the guard.
"Enough, Tomlin. The king wishes to see you."
A retort was on Tomlin’s tongue, his gaze slipping back to Myra, but the other guard called out again. With a groan, Tomlin left.
Once his footsteps faded into the distance, Laurince whispered, "Haze, are you hurt?"
Myra’s throat seized up. The back of her head throbbed, but she was alive and so was Laurince. And as images of Laurince’s limp body surfaced, that was all she could hold on to.
"I’m fine. Are you?" she asked, moving closer to the wall they shared.
"I’ve been worse."
Instinctively, she sought the thread of his emotions, and her stomach churned upon contact.
Agony rippled across the thread, coating it in a sickening red hue that twisted at her insides and made her keel over.
Her power was still sluggish, but she tightened her hold and pushed away Laurince’s agony.
Laurince exhaled a shaky breath, and she heard a faint thump as if he had rested his head against the wall that separated them.
"You didn’t need to do that. You should save your strength."
"It’s the least I can do." Myra leaned her head against the wall, wishing she could offer him more than a temporary bandage.
Movement flashed in the corner of her eye, and she nearly jumped in fright. But when she recognized Laurince’s hand, she exhaled a breath in relief. She reached out, and the tips of their fingers brushed, the distance too great to weave them together.
"Where’s Rian?" she asked.
"Still knocked out, I think."
Myra chewed on her lip and hoped he was all right.
"This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have trusted Ferencia. I’m so sorry. I never wanted this."
"You couldn’t have known she was helping Sebastian," Myra said.
"I should have, though. She’s always strived for more. I often thought she was only with me because she couldn’t be with Rian. I should have been more careful. And now…" His words drifted off, and she didn’t feel the need to push him.
No matter what she said, Laurince would still blame himself for their fate.