Chapter Twenty-two
Ena
Ena followed the two daemons through the passageways of the upper levels toward the Great Antre.
Neither of them touched her, but their presence made the hair on the back of her neck stand up and her stomach twist in knots.
She didn’t have her Knowing to truly tell her their intentions, but even without it, she could tell—they were bleeding contempt and violence.
The three of them walked in silence as Ena’s mind spun. Did Cole want an update about the mission? That was the most likely scenario, but she couldn’t stem the flow of dread that filled her thinking of all the other worse possibilities.
What if he’d figured out about the amulet? Or learned about her and Ty’s relationship? What if he wanted her to use her Gift on someone again? Or had he figured out that she’d embarrassed him on purpose during the onata celebration?
Ena was sweating by the time the three of them entered the Great Antre, their footsteps the only sound echoing around the vast cavern—a chilling reminder of her isolation.
Together, they approached Cole, who was sitting at the head of the long wooden table on his throne. Ena was somehow grateful that his throne had been moved off the dais where it had sat during the onata celebration, but despite that, he seemed to loom over the space still, his presence pervasive.
He watched her with a look of barely contained excitement on his face, like a cat toying with a mouse, as she walked in. Ena’s heart began to pound.
Nothing about this felt good. Nothing about this felt safe.
The three of them paused at the other end of the table from Cole as his face broke into a feline grin.
“So glad you could join us, witch-slave,” he said, his tone gentile and charming, and so at odds with the menace in his eyes.
Ena didn’t know what to say, so she remained silent. Gunnar and Chans still flanked her on either side, trapping her to the point where she felt claustrophobic.
“I require an update on my nephew’s mission. Tell me, what else have you found?” Cole asked directly.
Was that all this was about? The mission, like Ena suspected? She didn’t know for sure, but she began talking anyway, just to appease him.
“I, uh, did find something, actually. A lead on a rune that might work with my Gift. The imperium rune.” Ena’s voice shook slightly as she spoke, not at all like the confidence she had mustered during the onata celebration. But she’d had Ty at her side then, guiding her, watching her back.
Now she was alone.
She was suddenly faced with the overwhelming urge to cry. She didn’t know why—she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she knew she couldn’t do that, so instead she plastered on a polite smile. Maybe if she just kept smiling, everything would be okay.
“Good…good,” Cole mused. But he kept staring at her. He didn’t seem like he was done.
Ena’s hands fidgeted where they were clasped in front of her, but other than that, she tried not to move.
She worried if she did, they’d take it as an excuse to hurt her.
She was keenly aware that she was outnumbered here.
Her use of magic was restricted, and even though she’d been training to fight with Ty and Turner, there was no way she could take these daemons on her own.
“You know…” Cole continued speaking, his voice slithering over her. “I remember you.”
Ena froze.
“My nephew thinks he’s so clever, bringing you here. Pretending as if you’re not the same witch he tried to run to all those years ago.” Cole’s gaze turned hard as steel. “He’s been lying to me.”
Shit, shit, shit. Ena’s brain was frantic. Cole knew who she was? Knew about her and Ty’s history?
Her stomach dropped. What else did he know?
“But I’m no fool,” Cole continued, spitting out the last word. “I remember the way he looked at you. Remember how desperately he tried to get to you.” The man chuckled sadistically. “And there are those in the Underworld, myself included, who see how dangerous his feelings for you are.”
Ena swallowed. Her mouth was bone dry, and she tried desperately to get her sluggish, fear-addled brain to think of a plan.
She needed to do something—she could sense violence approaching, and she couldn’t just stand here and let it happen.
Maybe she could create a distraction with her magic and run, but the darkrock lanterns were too far away to blow up in their faces like she did to Ty while sparring.
The air, maybe? She could create a swirling vortex in the cave. But then where would she run to? They were deep underground, and they would inevitably catch her when she got lost in the passageways.
She was trapped.
Without Ty to handle this—to protect her—she had no way to protect herself. For the first time since coming to the Underworld, she truly realized what a dangerous situation she’d walked into, and regret started to creep in.
“So, as punishment for you both lying, I think an example needs to be set. To remind him, and everyone, of what you are,” Cole continued, the tension in the room palpable. “But I want you to know, it’s nothing personal. You’ve been a good little witch-slave.”
Cole looked at Gunnar where he stood beside her and gave him a curt nod of permission.
Ena’s head whipped to look at him just as his hand flew out, striking her across the face.
She felt the air whoosh out of her lungs as her head was knocked to the side. Her teeth cut into the side of her cheek, making her bleed, and her cheekbone throbbed with the sudden pain.
Her hand came up involuntarily to touch the spot where she’d been struck, but before she could fully register what had happened, Chans grabbed the back of her head, gripping her hair painfully and ripping out some of the strands.
She reached back, trying to dislodge his grip, but he was far stronger, and he used that strength to slam her face down onto the wooden table in front of them.
Her cheekbone exploded, the pain so overwhelming Ena couldn’t breathe.
She needed to do something, anything, to get away.
Adrenaline rushed through her, and, remembering her training, the things Ty had taught her, she threw out her elbow with as much force as she could muster, connecting with Chans’s gut.
He grunted and pulled her back up by the hair before pushing her with his full force away from him. Ena stumbled with the sudden change of momentum, and fell to the ground in a heap.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. She’d forgotten her footwork. Ty had always told her that was the most important thing and she hadn’t done it. Tears filled her eyes—from the pain on her face, yes—but as she looked up at the men looming above her, all she felt was fear.
Gunnar approached her again as she reached into her Knowing.
The air in the cave was stagnant, not like the air above, but she sensed it still.
{Aer—}
Gunnar gripped her throat before she could get the spellword out—squeezing and choking off her words. She could feel his death grip crushing her windpipe as she looked into his dead eyes and panic set in.
She tried futilely to pull in air, but only managed tiny sips. Black began to edge her vision and she started to feel lightheaded, when suddenly Gunnar lifted his knee, slamming it into her belly.
She felt one of her ribs crack, but she didn’t fall down this time. She stumbled back a step, bent over and clutching her side. Her throat was on fire and she could barely breathe with the pain in her side.
Sensing someone approach behind her, she whipped around, hunched over in fear like a feral animal.
Her eyes darted around, looking to flee, as Chans reached out to grip her wrist. He pulled it away from her body, from where she’d been protecting herself, and wrenched it to the side—not the way the bones were meant to go—and she heard it snap.
A scream echoed around the cave. She guessed it was hers but she didn’t remember making it.
Scalding pain flooded her wrist as she fell to her knees, and she began to lose consciousness.
She vaguely felt someone kick her in the gut—again, again, until she felt blood start to trickle out of her mouth, when it suddenly stopped.
Clutching her useless wrist, shaking, she began to sob. She wanted to beg. Part of her wanted to beg them to stop.
But she didn’t. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.
She brought her eyes up to see Cole approaching her. He loomed over her shaking, sobbing body on the ground, and Ena was afraid—yes, that was for certain—but a new feeling grew in her, something she’d never felt so starkly before in her life.
Hatred. She was filled with such loathing, such utter rage as she had never felt before. And she knew then: he would fucking pay for this. She might have no recourse right now, but one day…one day she would. And he would pay in spades.
Cole stared back at her, seeming amused at the hatred in her eyes, as he reached out to grab her broken wrist, twisting it with a sadistic glee as Ena cried out in pain.
“Let this be a message to you and my nephew,” he said, speaking quietly so only she could hear.
“We will never allow a witch to be queen.”
Before she could fully comprehend what he said, he brought his knee up to her face, slamming it into her head until she fell back, her skull cracking onto the ground, and everything went dark.