Chapter Thirty-Four
Isla
Sweets,” Charlie and Scotty call out at the same time. “What’s happening?”
I roll my neck and my shoulders. They’re finally a bit more free shackled behind my back. “I’ve been freed from the ceiling.”
“Good, good,” Charlie replies.
My mind spins as I look around the dark room. How much longer will they be keeping me in here? I try to shift, discomfort settling back into my bones. The hours have dragged on since Henry left me here alone last night.
I hear a rat scurry across the floor. It causes a wave of nausea to sweep over me. Steps echo down the hall, getting louder the closer they get to my door. I brace myself for the next round of games Oliver and the Prince intend to play.
Prince Cailean walks in with a pep in his step, the excitement palpable.
It only makes the dread in my stomach hit harder.
There’s a young woman behind them with pale blonde hair.
Her head is bent down as she watches the ground when she walks.
Oliver grips her arm tightly, telling me she’s here against her will.
“Another woman against her will?” I ask. “Can’t find any willing participants?”
Oliver shoots daggers at me, not appreciating the jab. Cailean only gives me a cruel smile. “This is Aurora,” he turns to her. “Aurora, you know who this is. I’ll spare the introductions.”
I eye them warily, waiting for the Prince to continue. He sighs. “She’s my seer. My fate speaker, or Fate twister more like.”
Pushing Aurora forward, he circles her. “Quite beautiful, isn’t she? She speaks of the tales Fate seeks to play, how fickle they are, how easily something can be changed,” he pauses. “Or snuffed out.”
I simply look at the three of them in front of me. Words fail to form. Prince Cailean doesn’t wait for me to respond.
“She’s told me something very interesting. Tell me, Isla, are you interested in learning your fate?”
“I know my fate,” I tell him.
Cailean ignores me, “Find the flower of the forest and change the fate. Sway the souls for the speaker is their mantle. King of Kings, you shall rule. Do you know what that tells me? You, my dear, my sweet flower.”
I cringe at his words. “You are my key to changing the war. It’s perfect, really.
You represent the people. My people. They will see your marriage with our captain here as a sign.
Nobility marrying a commoner. They’ll think we’re on common ground, that I can relate with my people, surrounding myself with the lesser. ”
“One problem,” I tell him. Cailean glowers at me, waiting. “I won’t marry him.”
The Prince chuckles. “That’s where you’re wrong. You don’t have a choice, Isla. You seem to be confused about where you are. Maybe you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”
Henry’s words echo in my head. Can I trust him? Do I really have a choice? Tread carefully, no chance. Cailean stalks towards me, pushing Aurora back against the wall. Oliver guides her to the corner, holding her still. The back of his hand slams against my face.
Iron tastes bitter on my tongue. “Do you really think your people will believe the vows when I’m covered in bruises?”
“You know, I am curious. What is it about you that makes the men fall at their feet for you? Is it your cunt?” He glides his finger across my jaw and down my throat, down to the tattered slip of my dress. The movement causes me to flinch.
Panic claws at my chest as I say a prayer to the Fates that he won’t touch me. My eyes find Oliver in the corner of my eyes. The whites of his knuckles show from the fury he’s feeling.
Cailean bends over, so we’re face to face. “Shall I ask your friends?”
He looks behind him to Oliver and nods. The door opens to Coley dragging in a beaten and worn Sibley.
“No,” I scream. Not him, too. “Please, no!”
Cailean ignores my cries. “Tell me healer, what is so special about the girl in front of me?”
Sibley grunts in pain as Cailean pushes him onto his knees in front of me.
“Don’t touch him!” I shout. Desperation claws up my throat. “Leave him alone, damn it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!”
“Is my seer correct, healer? Does she speak to the trees?” Cailean slams his booted foot into the back of his calf, causing Sibley to scream in pain.
“Please,” I sob. “Let him go. Let him go. I’ll do whatever.”
“Ahh,” the prince drawls. “My dear Isla, I’m afraid I cannot do that. You see, he’s been hiding grave secrets from the crown. He’s put everything in danger, the fate of this kingdom in danger.”
Cailean’s movements are too fast. He unsheathes his jeweled-crusted dagger, gripping the thin hair on Sibley’s head, he sweeping his blade across Sibley’s neck. The sound of Sibley choking on his blood fills the chamber.
“You bastard!” I scream. “You will die! You will all die!” Prince Cailean simply throws his head back in laughter, basking in the death of my beloved friend.
The Prince shrugs, turning his back to me. “I hate to leave you, but we have a wedding to plan.”
Coley follows Prince Cailean out of the room, leaving behind the seer and Oliver.
They both look at Sibley’s body, before Aurora jumps away from Oliver’s grasp.
She kneels down in front of me and whispers, “Find the flower of the forest and change the fate. Sway the souls for the speaker is their mantle. King of Kings, you shall rule, but tread carefully.”
“Hey,” Oliver shouts. He grips her arms roughly, yanking her off the ground. Aurora looks at me desperately.
“Bigger things are at play. Half truths and secrets are being revealed. Stay true, Isla!”
Oliver hauls her out of the chamber, slamming the door shut. He leaves me alone with Sibley’s blank eyes staring back at me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Healer Sibley,” I whisper through the tears.
“We’re going to get our revenge, sweets,” Scotty shouts from his cell. “We’re going to get out of here.”
Scotty and Charlie continue to chatter in an attempt to pull my mind away from the dead body in front of me. They speak of plans of sweet revenge and getting free. Hours pass until two guards eventually walk in to cart Sibley’s body away. The metallic smell of blood hangs in the air.
∞∞∞
Oliver storms in, slamming the door in his wake. Something has happened in the last few hours of them being gone. I raise a curious brow at him, only causing him to glare at me harder. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps stomping about the room in a tirade.
“What are you doing?” I hesitantly ask as he stomps towards me. “What’s happening?”
He doesn’t reply, only fiddles with the clasp that keeps the shackles bound to the chair.
“Oliver,” I try again; I’m met with silence. He snatches me off the chair, slamming me into the wall. Stone bites into my cheek as the thin dress threatens to slip off my frame. “Oliver, my dress. Please.”
Grabbing a fist full of hair, he throws me to the ground. “Did you let him touch you?”
I try to back away from him. My muscles feel weak from the exertion. A kick to my stomach, another slap across the face. He’s going to kill me. His rage is swallowing him up. He lunges towards me, his hand grips my throat as he picks me up.
“Did. He. Touch. You?” He grits through his teeth.
Stars dance across my gaze. I try to claw at his hands. “Please,” I gasp.
He slams my back against the wall, causing me to collapse against him. My muscles refuse to work. My breath is laboring. His right hand grips my hips as he leans into my ear. “Tell me. Do you enjoy my touch as much as his? Did you think of me while you were under him writhing away with pleasure?”
“Get off of me,” I shout, as I try to push against him.
“I think I’m due my turn, Isla. It’s only fair, since you’ve betrayed me the way you have. Since you turned into such a whore.” Oliver shoves me onto my chest, digging my bruised cheek bone into the wall once more.
His hard length digs into my back sending my mind into a whirlwind of panic. “Oliver, no. Get off of me! Leave me alone!”
I try to push against the wall, kicking, and squirming, anything to get him away from me.
“Leave her alone you sick bastard!” Shouts come from down the hall. Scotty and Charlie try to pull Oliver’s attention towards them.
Oliver grips my hair, pulling my head back a bit. “Do you think I should drag you out there? Give them a show? Show them how you beg to be touched?”
“Get off of me,” I grit out in between breaths.
I feel as if I’m suffocating. Every touch sends a wave of nausea through me.
Oliver shoves his knee in between my legs, forcing them apart.
I can hear him trying to unbuckle his pants.
Frantic shouts and pleas from the other side of the dungeon only spur him on.
“Fight, Isla. Fight,” Rhylen’s voice demands in my head.
“Aim for the cocks, lovey,” the ghost of Wyll shouts. I try to push against Oliver. He only shoves me harder against the wall.
“Do you think he’ll love you with these scars that mangle your body? Do you think he’ll want you once he realizes that I’ve had you? That others will have you?”
“TAKE ME, YOU LIMP-DICK BASTARD!” Scotty shouts. “YOU WANT A FIGHT?”
I close my eyes, begging the Fates for mercy as Oliver glides his fingers across my hips and cupping my ass. “You think they’ll deter me? You’ve made me wait long enough. Isla. I’m due what’s owed to me, what’s mine. And you. Are. Mine.”
“Hey!” A shout comes from the door. Henry stands at the entrance, a fiery hatred in his gaze. “We don’t have time for this, you idiot. He’s here.”
Oliver is off of me in the next second. He grips my hair, again, manhandling me towards the door. “I’ll be back,” he snaps.
I half expect him to shackle me back to my chair, but he hauls me down the hall to my old cell, throwing me to the ground. “We’ll finish this later.”
All I can do is curl into a ball, wrapping my arms around my legs. The feel of his touch burns into my skin.
“Isla!” Scotty shouts. I can hear rustling behind me and something hitting the door. “Grab my shirt, sweets. Come on now. There’s too much of a chill down here for you to wear nothing.”
He doesn’t crack a joke. Concern drips from his words. I roll over, trying to propel my body to the cell door. His shirt lays on the edge. Grabbing it, I muster the strength to put it over my body, to cover the bruises left from Oliver.
“That’s it, sweets. Don’t let the demons win. He’s here. He’s coming for you. Please fight, Isla. Fight.” Scotty and Charlie regale me with plans of revenge, begging me to not give up.
But how? I feel broken. Destroyed. Dirty.