Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
PRISON LIFE
Darkness sinks painfully into my skull when my lashes finally open. The meager act of looking around hurts. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed glass. There’s a pain in my back that doesn’t ease up, no matter how I try to lie on the cold hard ground . . .
Where am I?
“You awake, beautiful?” Roman’s voice echoes around the shadows, but the warmth of his hand pushes gently over my hair.
“Where are we?” I ask, but my voice comes out shredded and harsh, barely a rasping whisper along my lips.
“Shhh. Don’t speak. Just rest.” The comforting way he touches me, the sweetness in his voice, it’s alarming.
The reminder of what happened flashes through my mind in warped hazy images.
“I’m a dragon,” I whisper.
A quiet chuckle hums from his throat. “Mmm, a gorgeous, terrifying dragon. You were like looking at the fuckin’ sun and seeing light for the first time.
It was unbelievable.” His fingers slip through my hair as he pushes my locks back from my face.
“I’ve never seen such a creature so terrifyingly beautiful,” he whispers.
Pain pounds through my head, but I don’t want to pull away from his warm touch. It’s the only good thing I can focus on right now. My fingers slip over his and I hold him there along my cheek. I caused chaos and uproar, and I don’t even know how the hell I did it.
“Are they mad?” I ask with a hard swallow against the pain of my voice.
A heavy silence pauses between us, pressing and pushing for a few seconds.
“Just get some sleep, beautiful. Zilo will be back soon with more medicine. Everything’s fine.” He continues that soothing press of his fingertips through my hair, but it isn’t as calming as it was moments before.
Because despite what he said, I can one thing for certain: Everything is not fine.
I sleep so soundly. It’s like I’ve exhausted every part of my mind, body, and soul.
When I wake, cold water is sliding down my temple. It stings but then numbs entirely.
“Ow,” I say on a delayed, gravelly voice.
My lashes open slowly to find serious, worried emerald eyes staring down on me.
I’ve never seen Zilo look at me with so much intensity before. His lips part to speak, but not a single sound slips out. Instead, he reaches for a cup of water that sits beside a small flickering candle.
“Here.” He shoves the thing my way but doesn’t assist me further.
He distractedly peers around the little stone room he and I are alone in.
“Where’s Roman and Avian?” I ask once the cold water sooths my scratchy throat.
It doesn’t heal it, but it does help.
A little.
“Cersia . . .” He still won’t meet my gaze.
I forget the drink in my hand as I blink up at how afraid he is to say whatever it is he’s not saying.
“She’s going to kill you,” he finally says as his eyes close, and a breath that seems to have been caught in his lungs shoves out in one big heap.
“What? Who?”
His attention slowly finds me, and his hand slides over the dirty floor to tangle his fingers through mine.
“You killed Seelvie. You killed Creatchin’s mother, Cersia.”
My mouth opens. And then closes slowly.
“I . . . I killed her.”
He nods. “When your beast took over. She attacked, and you . . . you snapped her up in one bite.”
She was the flying fae . . .
The worry he has about Creatchin isn’t even a thought in my head.
“Where’s Nyra?” I push my hands beneath me to get up, but my arms give out, and I hit the floor with a thud.
“Rest.”
“No. I need to see Nyra.”
I stumble to my feet, and my palms collide with the smooth brick wall. The space is tiny. Just enough room for me to lie down.
“Where are we?”
Zilo’s silence treks on for so long, I wonder if he even heard me.
“You’re in Hell’s bowels. It’s the prison.” He watches me closely as if he expects that statement to devastate me entirely.
It doesn’t.
There are too many issues in my life for prison to really hinder me.
“Is Nyra okay? Did I hurt her?”
“Did you hear me? I said you’re in fucking prison, Cersia.” The hand he grips me with isn’t a clutching hold. It turns soft and caressing the second his skin brushes over the back of my knuckles
“Yes. And I’ve asked several times. I want to know how Nyra is. I need to know she’s okay.”
A flash of understanding lights up his eyes, and I think he almost understands. If he were a violent, uncontrollable beast, he’d worry for the only people he cares about. And that would be Avian and Roman . . . and possibly me.
“I’ll find her.” He takes a single step closer to me, and maybe it’s the pain and maybe it’s the weakness of my legs but I lean into him. The hand along my knuckles slides lower until it’s slipping around my hip and settling against my lower back.
And then he’s holding me.
My head finds the planes of his chest, and I breathe in the strong earthy scent of him. I try to focus on only him: the smoothness of his skin, the flex of his shoulder beneath my palm, the steady way his heart beats against my cheek.
Because if I let my thoughts drift, the rest of the terrible world waiting outside for me will tumble right in.
“There’s a trial tomorrow. You’ll be summoned at dawn.” The deep tone of his voice is smooth and soft against my hair.
I nod in silence.
“I can’t stay, but I’ll find your sister, and one of the High Hell will deliver you an update during your next cell check.”
My cell check.
They’re my jailers.
I followed these three strangers to the literal bowels of Hell.
I’m starting to wonder if I should have thought twice about wanting this much adventure in my life.