Chapter Four
Kade
I t took every fiber of my being to let her go so I could talk to Atreya.
After we spoke, she advised me that I should get back quickly and not linger.
And I did, simply for the fact that if I had gone back to Emelyn, I wouldn’t have left her.
I Hollowed through the shadows, the darkness clinging to me like a second skin.
As I walked through them, they shed away for my princely mask.
I was within the cold walls of the palace. It was late, the moon hanging heavy in the sky, casting slivers of light through the narrow windows of the dungeon.
The stench of blood and despair hit me first as I approached the cell where Valla kept Ace. The sight that greeted me when I opened the door was vile enough to churn my stomach.
Ace hung limply from his chains, his body painted with fresh wounds and dried crimson.
"Fuck.”
The wounds I had tended before I’d left wept across his torso. My gaze fell to one of his mangled wings, sprawled uselessly on the damp floor, feathers matted with blood, another clear break made in that one.
"Damn you, Valla," I muttered under my breath. I had to focus on saving what was left of him and keeping him alive going forward until I found the answers I needed. I hated what he would have to endure for this, but what other choices did we have? If I got him out of here, I wouldn’t be coming back.
He was unconscious, a small mercy given his condition. I knew time was of the essence. I didn’t know when Valla would be back. He needed aid and fast.
I Hollowed through the shadows once more, slipping into the kitchens where the air was heavy with the scent of roasted meats and simmering stews from the day's meals.
My presence went unnoticed as I let my shadows scan the area, ensuring not a single soul was there to witness me.
Satisfied, I moved, snatching up a jug of water and some bread and meats, then vanishing back into the darkness.
I Hollowed to my room. A first-aid kit had been added in the cabinet since Emelyn’s stay here. I retrieved it from the washroom and plunged back into the shadows.
Back in the dungeon, I set everything down with meticulous care, taking a moment to steel myself.
Then I unshackled Ace's wrists. His body sagged with the release, a pained groan escaping him as I eased him onto the floor.
His instincts kicked in, and he lashed out weakly, expecting Valla to be back.
"Hey, hey, hey, Ace, it's me," I whispered close to his ear.
Recognition flickered in his eyes, confusion and then a sense of relief. With ragged breaths, he stilled, his fight melting away.
"Kade . . . ," he signed as he exhaled a breath.
"Rest now," I urged gently, my fingers already moving to tend to his wounds.
As I worked, the image of Emelyn's heartbreak sliced through me again, her anguish driving my every action. This was for her, for us—for the shattered pieces of our bond that I would mend or die trying. But also, I wanted to mend the relationship I had with Ace. I’d felt the love Emelyn had for her brother, and I wanted to share that level of closeness, that camaraderie with him. He deserved that.
I stayed vigilant, my ears straining against the silence, ensuring Valla wasn’t coming back.
My shadows curled around me like protective tendrils as I tended to Ace.
My hands worked methodically, dabbing at the wounds, the stench of blood, herbs, and antiseptic mingling in the damp air.
He watched me through half-lidded eyes, pain etched in every line of his battered face.
"She— She said she wouldn't be back for a few days—to let me heal." Ace’s hands trembled, his lips splitting when he unexpectedly chuckled.
The chuckle died in his throat as I fixed him with a stare, the shadows around us pulsing with my unvoiced anger and concern. My fingers paused, hovering above the mangled mess of his wing.
"What about that is funny to you?" I pressed, voice low, a hint of desperation lacing my words.
Had he gone mad? I had seen madness take many forms, twisting minds until reality became an unrecognizable blur.
For a moment, I feared that Ace's mind had fractured under the weight of his pain and Valla's torture.
Ace's eyes, clouded with pain, met mine, and there it was—a flicker of lucidity that hadn't been entirely snuffed out. "I didn't think you would come back," he signed.
“Regardless of how you may feel about me, I will always come back for you.”
“Flattered,” Ace signed with a bloody grin.
"I hope that one day you see me as more than just the villain," I said, breaking the silence that hung between us.
Ace's jaw tightened, but he did not turn away. The silence stretched out like a chasm that threatened to swallow any semblance of common ground we might have found in another life.
Gingerly, I dipped the cloth back into the jar of salve, the thick mixture clinging to the fibers as I drew it out.
The room was quiet, save for the occasional drip of water echoing from some distant corner of the dungeon.
My hands were steady as I focused on the task at hand—each application of the balm felt like a silent apology for wounds I had not inflicted but felt responsible for, nonetheless.
"Your empire is responsible for the near extinction of my people, the death of my homeland, the lives of my and Emelyn's loving parents." Ace's words were like blade to my heart. "At least you still have your father, your people. So I think I'll pass."
I paused mid-motion, the cloth hovering above his marred skin.
It was true. My lineage was one of conquerors and tyrants.
And though I sought to be different, to break the cycle of oppression that my father had woven into our world, the shadow of his deeds loomed over everything I did.
One day, I hoped I would be seen in my own skin, rather than his.
"My father is a monster," I confessed on a whisper, a truth I had long since come to terms with.
"And I'll have to live with his actions for the rest of my life.
" I resumed my work, spreading the salve over another patch of busted skin, trying to push aside the guilt that gnawed at my insides.
"I've lived every day knowing that he is my blood and wondering if I carry that same evil within me. "
I glanced up at Ace, seeking some semblance of understanding in his eyes. "Your family's death is but another drop in the ocean of grief I’m forced to carry, Ace." My hand stilled again. "And I know nothing I say will ever make the pain you feel go away. But I truly am sorry."
I waited, watching Ace for any sign of softening, any indication that my words had reached him in some way. But there was only the flicker of torchlight playing across the hard set of his jaw and the faint scent of healing herbs rising between us.
I turned back to my work, pressing a cloth soaked with cool water against Ace's lacerated skin before applying more of the healing salve.
"Just know—" I finally broke the quiet, my voice low. "Everything I do . . . everything I've done since finding out about Emelyn, I've done it all to keep her safe." I paused for a moment. "And I'll always do what needs to be done to keep her safe—and you because of her."
It took him a moment, but Ace eventually responded. "At least that's one thing we can agree on." His hands moved, carrying a note of camaraderie. A faint smile of understanding graced his lips, as if the acknowledgment of our shared goal had chipped away at the wall he had put up.
In that fleeting moment, something shifted—the slightest bit of tension eased between us. We were two men marred by legacies we’d never asked for, our lives intertwined by fate and the fierce will to protect Emelyn.