2
Ihadn’t expected another visit for days after Zion left, so I was surprised when a batch of Nightshade guards descended the Stormvault steps the following day. They carried with them ash shackles that they bound us with, dragging us up the three steep flights to the throne room.
We were unceremoniously deposited onto the cold marble floor and kneed in the back until we dropped to our hands and knees before the throne.
Donika was nowhere to be seen.
A quick glance at the windows that lined the extravagant room let us know that it was nighttime in Akra. Whether it was early or late, I had no idea. The guards quickly retreated, leaving the large double doors unlocked in their wake. I inhaled deeply and leaned back on my heels.
We may have been taken out of the Stormvault to be questioned and tortured, but I appreciated any moment of fresh, clean air outside of that damp, dark cell. They hadn’t drugged us this time, which meant Donika wanted to talk. I had a nagging pit in the bottom of my stomach about Zion’s visit.
Two days.
What was going to happen in two days? Our execution?
Tess took a deep breath beside me and met my eyes. I wasn’t sure she could take another round of torture. The scars on our skin from Donika’s shadow magic were sure to be permanent at this point, never giving us a chance to heal before dragging us back out of our cells for another round.
The door creaked open behind us, and my heart jumped into my throat as I turned my head. Despite his betrayal, despite his absence, I still found myself hoping it was Nik.
I swallowed back that hope as Donika’s wolf form slunk into the throne room, her white coat stark against the dark night that surrounded us. Her face was covered in a blood red sigil that I couldn’t decipher the meaning of. I had memorized its curving lines and sharp angles to search my grimoire for its translation.
That is, if I ever saw it again.
I was sure it was something to do with black magic, or even blood magic. The sigil did resemble freshly painted blood, with dripping lines that trickled over her eyelids and down her muzzle.
She slunk towards the throne, her black wolves close on her heels. Her closest guards hadn’t left her side these past few weeks. As she ascended the stone steps to the dais, she slowly transformed into the beautiful nightmare that plagued my every waking thought. Her blue and white hair cascaded down her back in thick curls as she parted the black satin dress she wore and sat, her black eyes meeting mine. A chill ran down my spine as her lips curved into a wicked grin. Those eyes were always deeply unnerving. They were as dark as obsidian, and endless.
Donika let a heavy pause fill the room as her guards encircled her throne, her eyes never leaving mine. Before she even spoke a word, her shadows crept out from her perfectly painted red fingernails, snaking across the floor towards me.
For a moment I was relieved that she hadn’t gone for Tess—worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle one more lashing—before the pain engulfed me.
I cried out, falling forwards. With my hands bound, I had nothing to catch myself with, and my head cracked against the marble floor before I curled onto my side. The pain of Donika’s shadows was all-encompassing, as if hot knives or razor blades pressed against my skin. My eyes remained open, but I saw nothing but the darkness of her shadows surrounding me.
My breath strangled in my throat as I tried to fill my lungs with air, but all I tasted was smoke and ash. Donika’s shadows were a million needles pricking my skin all at once, but piercing deep. I imagined the depths of hell weren’t even this dark and painful. Tess reached for me in the darkness and I cried out again, warning her away. I would sooner pass out from the pain than let Donika break me.
A sinister laugh filled my ears as Donika’s shadow serpents retreated, leaving me panting and glistening with sweat on the checkered floor. Tess grabbed my arm to help pull me back to my knees. I coughed as the fresh air of the throne room stung my lungs, and I spit out a mouthful of saliva that tasted of bile and blood.
I met Donika’s eyes with my chin held high. I wasn’t sure I could take much more of her torture myself, but I hadn’t hit my breaking point.
Not yet.
“It’s good to see you, Diana. How was your visit with my father?” she asked, tapping a pointed fingernail against her cheek thoughtfully.
I didn’t reply. I simply fixed her with a cold stare. The taste of blood filled my mouth once more. I felt it trickle down my chin, unable to wipe my face clean with my hands still bound. I rubbed my bloodied chin against my dirt-stained shoulder before fixing my glare on Donika once more.
“No progress? As I’m sure he told you, I grow tired of you. If you insist on holding out, I don’t have a use for you any longer. Or Tess. Think carefully, your decision not only condemns you but also those you care about.”
“Why haven’t you gone to search for it yourself?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. “If the grimoire is so important to you, why don’t you go find it? Instead, you sit here on your false throne with your sniveling soldiers at your feet. It certainly can’t be that hard to find. I am merely a worthless little Stormshade, after all.”
Something flashed in Donika’s lifeless eyes, something like fear. Had I guessed correctly? Was Donika not able to visit the mortal realm herself?
“If I don’t have the grimoire by week's end, you have decided your own fate,” Donika sneered. She uncrossed her legs and descended the stone steps towards me. “After all, if you are dead, the grimoire has to pick another Kotova. There aren’t many left.”
My blood ran cold in my veins as her words settled in, but I set my jaw as she approached me. “When is week's end, pray tell? You have us locked in a windowless dungeon, and I’ve simply lost track of time,” I replied coldly.
“Two days,” she spit out, her shadows snaking out to take hold of my chin and turn it upwards, forcing my eyes towards her.
I was on my knees before her, blood trickling down my chin, my breaths coming shallow. I feared the damage her shadows were doing to me each time they attacked me, and if I would ever be able to fully recover from them. Zion had been warning us, then. Donika would only give us two more days before she executed us.
Nik had to have some inkling of where I could have hidden the grimoire. Why hadn’t he found it and brought it to her himself? Had she done something to him? Or had she sent him back to the mortal realm to search for it himself?
“I’ll admit, you’re equally as stubborn as our mother.” Donika smiled, but it never reached her lifeless eyes.
How dare she speak of our mother, the mother I would never meet.
The mother she killed.
I fought her shadows to turn my chin down and rain blood-soaked spit down onto her satin dress, specks of it flying against her perfectly manicured feet. Donika did not hesitate. She backhanded me so forcefully my head turned sharply and a cry left my lips, blood splattering Tess’ shirt.
I was stunned into silence, my cheek stinging as blood flowed from my open mouth to drip onto the floor. Oh, how I craved my magic at this moment. Just a touch of it to send Donika flying back against her precious throne. I met her eyes with a deathly stillness as she threw her head back and laughed.
“Why don’t you unshackle me and see if you’re still laughing,” I suggested.
“Little Stormshade, I’ve been practicing magic since I was born. You have been practicing magic for months. In no realm would you be able to stand against me,” she replied.
“Then why don’t you let me try?” I smiled, revealing my blood-stained teeth.
Donika was thoughtful as she peered down at me. She had expected to break me by now. She underestimated my will, my thirst for vengeance. I only had two days left to figure out how to manipulate my way out of the Stormvault, or Tess and I were dead.
“Wouldn’t you rather run home to your mortal mother and leave this all behind you?” Donika asked with a shake of her head.
Even if I was willing to part with the grimoire, I would never give it to her now. Not after she revealed she was my sister. That she ruined any chance I had of meeting my birth mother. After she tortured Tess and me endlessly. Starved us. She hadn’t even scratched the surface of my willfulness.
“And leave you to my throne?” I asked with a wicked smile.
“It was never your throne,” Donika spat, raising her hand again to strike. This time I flinched back, the sting on my cheek still fresh.
“Stop!” Tess called out, halting Donika as she swung towards me.
“The little mouse finally found her voice.” Donika laughed, turning towards Tess with her raised hand.
“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” My voice was cold and foreign in my own ears.
I could take Donika’s questions and her abuse, but I wouldn’t let her do the same to Tess.
“Or what?” Donika replied, turning her attention back towards me. “You are my prisoner. I will do with you both as I please.”
It was the same conversation, over and over again. How many times had Donika brought us to the throne room to torture us, and how many times had we stood fast against her?
“I’ve given you a lot to think about,” Donika started, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Think long and hard, Diana. I know you’ll make the right choice…in the end.”
Donika’s gaze flicked towards the open doorway and the soldiers standing there advanced, hauling us up by our arms and dragging us from the room.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Donika standing in the middle of the throne room, encircled by her army of black wolves, standing in a pool of my blood.