Chapter 10
SORROW
Father, I pray to Evella this letter finds you in time.
I have her! I have Mercy and she has agreed to return!
He has been dealt with and shan’t be a problem.
Mercy is refusing to give up the bastard, but we’ll deal with that on our return.
Please hold on, Father. I want you to witness the moment we tie a Villente to our line.
— A LETTER FROM CROWN PRINCE ROMERO TO HIS FATHER, KING PHILLIP III
I woke on a cold stone floor, desperate to cling to fractured images as they faded with each torturous blink. The sweet, honeyed scent of the bower. Matthias, eyes wide, face pale, urging me to listen as he faded into the shadows. My name a cry on his broken lips.
‘Trust me,’ he’d said. ‘Can’t trust me.’
I sat up, gasping as the warning echoed, my body slick with sweat as the phantom of Matthias’ fingers still felt like they circled my neck. My trembling fingers prodded a throbbing lump on the back of my head and the true memories struck me. The bag over my head. The strike. The darkness.
I lowered my hands and cursed. Cuffs, chill and harsh, dug into my wrists. My heart sank.
Evellum.
As erratic as my gifts were becoming, I still needed them to protect myself.
What had I been thinking? I’d sent away the wolf and willingly stepped alone into a nest overflowed with enemies in search of that man.
Hawk. I snorted. If that was his real name, then I was Vyrus, the God of fucking vengeance.
Thoughts of how he could help me, help us, itched beneath my clammy skin.
The current list of pressing issues I faced was growing by the minute.
Glesni had made it abundantly clear that simply using both gifts wouldn’t be enough – that the blight would still destroy me unless I developed equilibrium.
But as my headaches lessened and I’d not wiped a single smear of blood from my nose, I had to wonder what she meant.
Did the blight turn inwards? Poison the already tainted gifts?
Were the burning Anomalies and the savageness of the dead rat proof of my tainted gifts?
A stone of resentment swelled within my throat.
I’d finally accepted my gifts, yet they remained my greatest burden.
The blessings Evella gave me were unique.
Perhaps the ability to overthrow an empire and return my husband to my side slithered through my veins?
But what if they turned on me? Turned on others?
My sister knew all too well the agony my gifts delivered.
I gripped the cuffs, wincing as they dug into my wrists.
That mariner, Deviant. He was my key. My salvation.
I had to convince him to show me how to balance.
As soon as I got myself out of wherever I was, anyway.
I glared into the shadows, cursing Evella. Where was her so-called protection now?
Scrambling onto all fours, I stood, brushing dirt and twigs from my skirts.
My head spun so hard, bile scraped my throat.
I reached out, cursing as my fingers collided with a table.
I held on with both hands, breathing through the pounding in my skull.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, the pungent scent of damp and decay turned my stomach as I took in my surroundings.
I may not be able to see much, but if I could work out where I was, then I’d have a chance of finding my way back to the keep, to Pablo, my friends.
From the inky darkness enveloping me, it was still night.
An arched window – I squinted, perhaps it was stained – let in wisps of fragile light.
I’d been knocked out for a few hours then.
I reached my fingers across the table. Smooth, cold, possibly marble.
I halted, my brows furrowed as the smoothness of the marble altered.
Ripples, indents and sweeping curves. My hand lay over what seemed to be a…
‘Shit.’ My blood turned as cold as the marble I traced. This room. This building. I’d been here before. I clutched my chest, backing away and crying out as my hip collided with another table. No, Sorrow. Not tables…
Coffins, sarcophagi. The mausoleum. A sob broke through as I slammed into another coffin, racking my mind for memories of the layout.
‘Breathe.’ I hissed the order as I stood in the centre of the private Thorne mausoleum. The place where my gift turned curse had awoken Mama. Where I’d tried in vain to grab her dead, angry weight from a screaming Enfys. The blood. Rivers of blood.
‘Breathe, you fool.’
With my eyes closed, I dragged in the chill air, allowed it to settle within my lungs before exhaling slowly. Again and again, till my shoulders slumped.
Evellum covered my wrists, negating both my gifts. I couldn’t call any creatures to aid me, but that also meant I wasn’t about to accidentally awaken any dead kings or queens. Whoever had placed me here knew about my gift. They wanted to punish me, but not kill me. Not yet anyway.
I swallowed, standing straighter. As much as I’d fought to block out that day, I had to think back.
Mama hadn’t been interred the day Enfys and I had been ordered to say goodbye.
She lay on a slab close to the entrance, the sarcophagi of the long-dead monarchs behind her.
Matthias and I had snuck in here once. Stupid boy had wanted to draw on the carved forms of the dead.
He’d only had a scrap of charcoal, so all he’d managed to do was scrape a phallic symbol onto Romero the third’s forehead.
I barked out a laugh. Gods, the pain of his loss crippled me.
His recklessness had always lit the darkness of my childhood.
I shook my head. This wasn’t the time to be maudlin over the memories of the fool I’d married.
The sarcophagi had been right at the back in rows of four?
Maybe five? The window? To the right. Candles had been lit the day we’d seen Mama.
Gathering my bearings, I heaved in a breath, raised my chin and stepped towards where I prayed to Evella the entrance lay.
I shuffled forward, my bound hands trembling before me.
As I traced the marble features of past rulers, I realised I was travelling in the right direction.
I paused at a short coffin, squinting at the childlike features of Otto, the boy king.
Grimacing, I made a mental note to find a copy of his tragically short reign and pop it under Oskar’s door.
A cautionary tale against child monarchs and their grisly ends.
My hip smashed into the next coffin, Abel. A rarity amongst the Thornes, he’d sought peace and harmony and wanted every Drufaeran to prosper. His reign was cut short when his five sons poisoned him, plunging Drufaera into a decade-long civil war.
Mama lay there, in the centre. I dragged in a shattered breath, refusing to even glance towards her.
That would mean the last sarcophagi to the left would be Romero the third. Despite the pounding of my heart, a smile played on my lips. Perhaps in the daylight, I might return with Pablo, see if Matthias’s artwork remained.
There were no more coffins, just space where the future rulers would rest – as long as the empress was defeated and Drufaera continued.
An owl hooted from beyond, the only sound in the dark.
I halted, straining for the sound of Pablo or anyone searching for me.
I shook my head. Only the wolf would note my absence and because I’d sent him to keep an eye on Hawk, he might not realise I was in danger.
As it was night, Enfys and the others would think I slept.
Unless one of them checked on me, I was on my own.
I had to get myself out.
Only, I was increasingly doubtful that the fates favoured me.
My foot lifted, ready to take a careful step, when I froze, my brows furrowed.
A groan, low and quiet built outside the door.
My guts shifted uncomfortably as the moaning grew.
I narrowed my eyes in the door’s direction.
It was no animal. It certainly wasn’t a stray diafol.
The moans set up once more, this time another higher groan joined it as the door rattled.
I shifted back, lowering myself behind one of the coffins, cursing under my breath.
A moan was broken off halfway through. The perpetrator snorting.
‘Please,’ I said under my breath. Muted keys jangled and the lock clicked. ‘Not him. Not Danté.’
A breeze swept in from the open door. Paper-thin leaves skittered across the floor as footsteps approached. A hazy amber glow swept across the chamber and I crouched lower, pushing myself against the coffin.
‘Ah, she’s hiding.’
My jaw clenched as the duke’s voice echoed against the high ceiling. ‘I should have hit the bitch harder. Find her.’
There were more footsteps. Damn. Danté had support. I refused to be discovered cowering and dragged out like a criminal, so, heaving in a deep breath, I stood.
‘There she is.’
I blinked, trying to work out what was happening.
A guard stood before the closed door. The blurry form of Danté rested against the slab where Mama had lain.
I reached in for my gift, only to be met with hollowness.
A guard approached, and from the way he held out his hands instead of a sword, I faced an Anomaly.
A chill slid along my skin. My power was locked down, but I wouldn’t be at their mercy.
But as the Anomaly twisted his fingers and the breath expelled from my lungs, my options were limited.
I crashed to the ground, clutching my burning chest, desperately attempting to heave some air into my barren lungs.
‘Enough.’ Danté strode forward as I gasped, coughing at the sudden icy chill cooling my lungs. He grabbed my hair, yanked me up. ‘How did you like waking up in here? All those cockroaches and spiders.’
My eyes watered as I glared at him.
‘Still a step up from the present company,’ I said, before a crippling cough caught me.
Danté sneered. ‘Always thinks she’s so clever.’ Despite the burning, I grinned back. ‘Always so fucking superior.’
I tutted. ‘The brains rotting in these corpses are superior to yours.’
‘Right now, I am in charge.’ Blotches of rage spread across his already ruddy cheeks.
‘Take these cuffs off and we’ll find out.’
Danté laughed.
‘I’m not that stupid,’ he said, crossing his broad arms and sneering.
‘I know quite a few people who require some proof.’
Danté’s fist swung up, a mere breath from my face. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of flinching. I clenched my jaw, stared at him, ignoring the swirls and enjoying the prickle of satisfaction at the anger etched onto his unusually dishevelled features.
‘What’s the point of all this, Danté?’
His shoulders relaxed and he took a step back, the self-satisfied smile returned.
‘You’ve avoided retribution for your crimes. That ends tonight.’
My pulse spiked. They’d wanted to execute me for Romero’s murder since I’d arrived in Drufaera.
‘Without a judge?’ I was impressed I got the words past my dry mouth.
Danté smirked. ‘With your simpering sister tucked into your pockets, Prince Oskar will never receive justice for the loss of his king, his father.’
‘Something else we have in common,’ I said, fighting the urge to quiver. ‘We really should spend more time together.’
Danté snorted and I locked eyes with the duke. ‘It’s far too late for that, wolf queen.’
The Anomaly stepped forward. A curse flew from my lips as he approached, raising his hands.
Danté rubbed the scraggly stubble on his jaw.
‘While you’re dying, we’ll remove Enfys from the throne.
’ Fucker. I should have punched him. ‘Oskar was born to rule. Don’t forget, Romero chose him over your poor mama.
Only one of them could be healed and what use was that woman? A cheater. A traitor.’
I couldn’t scream my answer as the Anomaly squeezed, and I gasped, blood rushing from my wrists as I tried to prise the cuffs off.
I couldn’t even cry as I crashed to my knees, lifting my now veiled gaze as the hazy form of Danté strolled towards the door.
Slumping to my side, my body screaming for air and my lungs ablaze, the world darkened once more.