Chapter 30 Elias
Elias
Iwoke with a gasp and launched myself off the sofa in the corner of the war room. The room had a soft, red glow from the setting sun beyond the large window, but to my surprise—or maybe not—I was alone.
Completely alone to my own cruel memories.
This time, I’d been surrounded by faceless soldiers. Stolen from my cage, pricked with the end of a thorn, and then nothing.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, drawing in deep, calming breaths. In the back of my mind, I was still lost to the darkness, trapped in the pain of a thorn’s prick. Darkness crept in at the edges of my consciousness, like I’d been touched by the Fae poison from my nightmares.
But I ran my fingers down the back of my neck and over my throat, feeling nothing of the sort. I knew I hadn’t been pricked, and yet…
I released a shaky breath and stumbled to the bar Rhadamanthus liked to keep stocked in the corner of the room. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been tempted by the nectar, but I needed something other than the reminder of poison running through my veins.
I made it to the bar with a grunt and grabbed the first pitcher I could find. The topper came off without much force, the crystal glinting in the soft light coming through the window. The golden liquid within smelled strongly of honey and death, which wouldn’t bode well for anyone else.
But I needed the risk that came with taking a sip of death.
As I poured the drink into one of the fancy crystal glasses the demon liked to keep at the bar, I couldn’t stop my mind from going back.
Not just to the cage. That, for some reason, wasn’t the most horrifying part of my time in Dante’s hold.
It was his soldiers; their bloodlust and disregard for us—for the children we’d been.
Their pressure to make us shift, to force us to become their mindless weapons…
Even my wolf wasn’t as present as he had been before. He’d receded into me, like he too was starting to remember the darkness we were born into.
I brought the crystal glass to my lips, hand trembling, and downed the amber liquid in one swallow. It didn’t burn like whiskey, instead smooth like real honey, sliding down my throat with ease.
Were the other children still alive? Had they escaped with me, or were they still trapped with Dante in cages like the one I knew he had Ivy in? And if they hadn’t escaped, then why me? Why had Cyrus gotten me out, and not the others?
The glass fell from my hands, shadows stealing it away before it could hit the ground.
A shaky, uneven breath fell from my lips as warmth spread through me from the liquor.
I couldn’t even taste the danger. I, like others at Phoenix, heard stories of the Elysian wine that could only be drunk by the demons of that house.
Any who dared to try it were left moments from death for even attempting.
I made my way back to the sofa, body heavier than it had been when I’d woken. I fell onto the cushions with a groan, head falling back. I tried to keep my eyes on the ceiling, on the veins of silver and gold that cut through the black stone, but darkness crept at the edges of my vision.
I blinked hard to push it away, but my sight blurred, turning the silver and gold into something else.
Something from my memories.
Not for the first time, I allowed my mind to take me back to the past.
For the first time, we were alone. Just me and the other children, locked in our cages. No Watcher or Warden to be seen. No guards with their guns raised, threatening us if we didn’t shift.
I was a boy too thin, too starved, to even think about allowing my beast out.
And the pain…it burned through me from the welts on my back, my thighs trembling from the marks left there from the whip.
There was a tremor in my hands that made forming fists difficult, so the idea of fighting back was quickly wiped from my mind.
The last beating was brutal. Whimpers and soft cries sounded from the other children. They wept for relief we’d likely never find.
But at least we were finally alone. There was no one in the darkness but us.
I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the bars. The desire to slip into sleep was high, but it refused to come. Despite the fact we were without guards, something within me remained alert. Could my wolf be alive within me now? Present after what happened?
I almost wished for him to take over, to finally be rid of the pain.
But I knew that once he made himself known, I would never be allowed out again.
That’s what the soldiers told one another. Once we shifted, there would be no use for them guarding us anymore.
The hairs on my arms prickled. Slowly, I forced my eyes open.
At first, I was met with murky darkness.
My vision swam with images of Watcher’s face as he took pleasure in snapping the whip.
But when I blinked hard, my sight cleared, and everything came into focus: the bars of my own cage and the small lines carved into the metal; the quivering form of the small boy in the next cage, curled in on himself with his blood smudged all over his body; the half-shifted child with fur rippling across their body, fur that had been torn out and was now scattered across the floor.
When I blinked again, my vision remained the same. Clearer than it ever had been, more focused than it should be. It was the vision of my wolf.
I forced my eyes closed again. Go, I thought to the beast, go before they catch you.
They would do anything to bring him out, and I didn’t want to be like the half-shifted child, slowly dying because they couldn’t maintain either form.
I would die if the same happened to me.
Shivers wracked my body, puckering my skin and making me tremble from the force of them. But the whole time, I kept my eyes closed, keeping the presence of my wolf hidden.
I couldn’t let Warden know he was here. I wouldn’t.
Not even if it meant relief from the pain.
This time when I woke, my mouth was dry and the remnants of the memory left nothing but a deep, saddening ache. It was almost like I could feel the pain of those initial whippings again. See the sadistic pleasure it gave the pain demon who dealt them. His was a face I would never forget again.
It was a face I was going to tear off if I found out he’d done anything to Ivy.
Rising to my feet, I moved through the pain. Instead of going for the deadly wine again, I left the war room, entering the darkened corridor that only had motionless Wrath demons guarding it. None of them acknowledged me as I passed, and I took a little bit of relief in that.
A small part of me realised I should reach out to Grey and find out where she was, but the chances of her already being in the cells was high. She could either be with Kingsley or making nice with Hyperion.
But I wanted—no, needed—to see Cyrus. I needed him to fill in the blanks.
His reasoning still didn’t make sense to me, especially with the memories I already had back. Nothing about his story made sense the more I thought about it.
The silence stopped at the entrance to the dungeon. The witch guards were on high alert, and even through the thick doors, I heard screams. The growls of hellhounds hidden further down the long halls of the dungeon echoed.
I made my way to Cyrus’s cell. The two witches standing guard moved aside, neither looking at me as I came to a stop in front of them.
“He hasn’t made a sound in hours,” one of the witches said, her gaze steady on the wall behind me. “We checked on him an hour ago, and he was fine. Didn’t speak to us.”
My stomach twisted, but I nodded once. “I won’t be long.”
They didn’t bother responding, instead opening the door for me with a wave of their magic. Cyrus looked up as I entered, but he didn’t move or say anything until the door closed softly behind me.
“The memories are coming back,” I said, crossing my arms. “But they aren’t matching what you told us.
Every single memory I’ve had so far tells me I should be terrified of you.
They tell me I should tear you to shreds for the part you played in my torture—in the torture of those other children who were with me. ”
Something shifted in his eyes as he stared at me for a long moment, lips pressed together, like he was considering how much he should reveal. Or maybe he was reading a weakness in me that I couldn’t hide.
“You were born in the compound,” Cyrus said after a moment, releasing a harsh breath and dropping my stare. “Your mother was brought in as a breeder. She’d been…special to Dante.”
Bile rose in my throat as my back hit the door. “Who was she?” I asked, though I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know.
“She was one of his…acolytes, I suppose. But she fell pregnant after finding her mate at the compound. Another wolf shifter. He was an Alpha brought in for testing.” Cyrus shook his head, disgust warping his features.
“That was when everything started changing. It stopped being about the changes that needed to be made to the current system and started being about control.”
“Who was she?” I asked again, this time my voice breaking. “And what happened to her? To them?”
Cyrus glanced up, our eyes meeting. “She gave birth to you and was forced into a shift. She was useless to Dante because she was mated. Your father was made to shift too, but he fought back. He almost died for it.”
I wasn’t sure how to react to the knowledge that I had parents. A father. Someone who had fought Dante, a mother who birthed me. When you spent all your life thinking you were abandoned, it was hard to reconcile that with the knowledge that you weren’t.
My parents hadn’t dropped me off at Phoenix’s doorstep and walked away. They hadn’t wanted to give me up.
“I’m sorry,” Cyrus said, voice deep with shame. “I wish…I wish I had done something then.”
“You let him torture me. Torture them,” I said, referring to the other children I’d been with. “They didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve that.”
“You’re right,” he replied. “And I will carry that regret until Nyx claims me. I should have done more to protect you. To protect the others. But I didn’t. I was a weak male too wrapped up in my own needs to see that what they were doing went against everything I was fighting for.”
Although he seemed sincere, I couldn’t bring myself to accept his words. I’d spent so long looking to him as my mentor, the closest thing I had to a father, that his words just felt empty now that I knew the truth.
“Where are the other children?” I asked, ignoring his admission.
“You were the only one I was able to get out successfully,” he replied, voice dark and full of guilt. “They wanted you dead. You were never going to serve their needs, so they needed you gone.”
My jaw clenched as I looked away from him and into the darkness around his cell.
I recalled one of the earlier memories I’d unlocked, the one about us refusing to shift because there’d been an Alpha amongst us.
I didn’t want to ask why they wanted me dead, because I was almost certain I already knew.
But I still asked anyway. “Why did they want me gone, Cyrus?” My eyes flickered back to his, and our gazes met. “Why would they want me, a fucking child, dead?”
“You already know why,” he replied, lifting his chin. “You aren’t stupid.”
I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Say it.”
“You were their Alpha,” he said, sitting back, the chains rattling with each movement. “And that made you a threat.”