Chapter 10
Alora
I’m home, or at least it feels like home.
I’m staring at the familiar door, bleached from the sun and salt of the sea, with little etched flowers along the border.
Along the threshold are the tiny, white bell flowers that momma helped me and Hanin plant.
I take a stride closer and kneel, the light scent urging me onwards.
The briny air wraps me in its salty embrace, healing wounds I didn’t know festered beneath the surface.
My finger grazes the little dainty white caps of the floral sentinels.
I snip one off with my forefinger and thumb and bring it closer to my face.
Inhaling deeply as it is brought to my nose, I quickly drop the bloom.
It smells wrong somehow. My gaze sharpens on it and it appears as if the petals are scorched.
But they weren’t just a moment ago? I grasp the flower again and watch it turn to ash as I roll it between my fingers.
A shiver skitters along my spine. The overwhelming urge to run fills my chest and my body tenses. I’m not alone here. The hairs on my arms prickle in awareness—someone watches, but from where?
“Alora.”
The smokey voice resounds around me. It’s everywhere at once and I stand, frantically searching for who said it.
“Alora…”
It takes everything I have to stay put. There’s an intruder in my haven and who would dare find me here?
“Alora.” A voice floats to my consciousness, appealing to me to wake from whatever dream I’m consumed by.
The sudden slip of thick scratchy fabric over my face has me jerking awake. Hands grab at my ankles and tug, pulling me along the hard surface. Panic blooms and I’m kicking and thrashing at whatever holds me.
“Damnit!” The curse reaches me, revealing where my assailant stands. Thrusting my foot again, I make contact with something solid and sharp. The blow can be heard with the thud.
“Well now you’ve done it.” Rune’s voice can be heard on my right and I slap towards where I think he is.
“Alora. Be still.”
I’m still thrashing, I can’t see and whatever is on my head makes everything feel too close, too constricting. I’m certain that I’ll suffocate.
Hands grab under my shoulders in an attempt to lift my arms as another pair snakes around my legs.
A scream bubbles up. It’s all too much. The claustrophobic bag, the unwanted hands. My body riots and I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Get off. Get off. Get off. Hot tears well up in my eyes, making my vision even worse.
I can’t help it when the shrill scream escapes from my lips. My feet coil up to my chest and I kick as hard as I can and they meet something solid and unmoving.
Whatever is on my face is ripped off in an instant. He’s there, frantic and searching my eyes. Him. The Devourer.
I’m bewildered, my fear melts into something more. Condemnation. He’s doing this to me.
“I’ll leave the sack off,” The stern whisper leaves his lips in a rush, “damnit I’ll leave it off if it means you’ll quit screaming because I cannot take it.” His voice cracks, steeped in desperation.
“Kassiel… Gods.” Rune’s words are stiff and forced, unhappy.
He lowers his voice so only I can hear.
“Alora.” I narrow my eyes on him as he continues, “It’s easier to walk to the noose when you don’t see it coming.”
“I’d prefer to make that choice myself.” The words are said cooly, barely audible.
I study him, counting my breaths until they level out as the moments pass. He’s disheveled, his hair out of his leather strap and unruly. He’s frantic looking, his brows nearly reaching his hairline. He looks like a god, terrifying and beautiful.
“Allow me this one favor,” I begin quietly, a request waiting on my lips. I’m not sure how my captors will take this next part.
I continue after I release a shaky exhale, hesitation lingering, “I’d sooner have you slit my throat before that forsaken sack covers my head again. Give me my dignity as I meet the Goddess.”
I lower my chin as I stare at The Devourer, unblinking as our eyes lock.
“I’ll allow this, but the moment I feel like you’re going to pull something, it’ll have to go back on. Truly.” His concession is quick and his eyes shine with the promise.
I nod and acceptance washes over me, relaxing my limbs into the hard floor of the cart I’d fallen asleep in.
The Devourer turns to Rune, suspicion seeping off of the man as he stares at the emerald green eyes..
“Miss, we need to get you moving or I fear the king himself will come out here and drag you by your hair.” I snap my neck toward him, assessing if he’s serious. If King Euron would have really come this far to watch me hang.
“He speaks the truth. The King is not a patient man, and worse, he feels no remorse. However you die, he’s indifferent. The only thing he cares about is ensuring you’re no longer part of the problem.” The Devourer’s words settle over me.
I lean forward and scooch my way to the edge of the cart.
The men give me space, making sure not to touch me. I want to say thank you for the kindness, especially after Rion’s assault, but my throat is closed off and I know I won’t be able to utter a word.
I jump from the cart with a thud and follow Rune as he guides me through a hidden door. My feet trudge through the soggy mud and I quirk a smile thinking of my ruined skirt hem soaking whoever’s carpets these belong to.
The great home looks like Lord Velroy’s as far as I can tell, thanks to the time The Hidden and I spent studying the streets of Astoria.
The door snaps shut behind us as Rune brings me to a room only furnished with a simple chair and small writing table.
He leads me to the chair and shackles me to it and offers a plain smile before leaving and locking the door behind him.
I rest my forehead on the cool surface, thankful that the scratchy sack is no longer over my face. My shoulders stretch as my arms rest on the desk, above my head.
My mind wars with itself, torn between hope and acceptance, grief and anger. There’s a chance I can still be saved because damn the gods if they let this be my ending.
The thick culling bands rub viciously against my wrists and when I inspect further I notice my skin is raised and raw. I can’t imagine what damage they would cause if they were placed on someone longterm.
What would they feel like, when they wear through the skin with their weight? Perhaps I’d get first hand knowledge. They already null my magic, leaving a weird emptiness throughout my body. If only they could work as well on my thoughts, then maybe I’d not feel so plagued.
My thoughts return to Leeson and Caym. The taste in my mouth turns bitter when thinking how they hadn’t a chance to be bound before the goddess.
I don’t even know what fate Caym met, if Leeson and The Hidden know of our failures to get the culling bands.
If anyone had known we had walked straight into a trap.
I sit there, drumming my fingers against the cool writing table that looks far too unused as my thoughts fracture into chaos. The shadows of the high sun start to lengthen along the walls and I feel like I could almost make out silhouetted beasts as my weariness grows.
Footsteps in the hallway catch my attention. They sound heavy and like there’s more than one person. The doorknob jiggles as the brassy handle is turned.
Rune’s face is stony as he pushes through the opening.
His tawny eyes look different than before when I witnessed him and The Devourer exchange their words.
They look haunted and the way they linger on my face has me questioning what his meaning could be.
He raises his brows slightly before lowering his chin in a small nod.
It’s a warning. Bracing myself, I continue to stare at the door still partially closed before swallowing thickly.
He simply looks over where I’m still sat before shoving the door open the rest of the way. Behind him hoovers another man, the expression on his face etched with callousness.
My stomach drops.
Lord Velroy.
The gods must have a sick sense of humor afterall.
Calling it death would be too casual, too nonchalant. No, what I’m about to experience isn’t kind, it’s an injustice. The gods seem to have their backs turned to me and it’s maddening.
The sun is setting soon, the hours withered away as I’d been forced to sit and listen to Lord Velroy talk nonstop this afternoon. What shocked me was that Rune never left the locked room either, just hovered in the corner with the same expression he wears now—dutiful but etched with scorn.
It was torture enough to endure the sliminess of Rion Velroy’s magic and assault, but hearing someone be so boastful as well as exalted, well it was exhausting.
I was oddly relieved when Rune raised to his feet and began to lead me out of the confined room once more.
My skin had crawled in places where Lord Velroy’s fingers had lingered when touching me whenever he’d discussed how important he was.
I had bit my tongue numerous times to stop myself from screaming.
Rune had watched him the whole time, ever so still.
Not quite my protector, but also not willing to let me be alone with Lord Velroy.
Why it was him stationed to guard me was beyond my understanding.
For all I know, The Devourer and Nightmare had been tasked with something far more sinister.
Sudden panic blooms in my chest and my face blanches, the blood swiftly leaving. I hope he wasn’t somehow called away to deal with Lees or Caym.
Unsure of how to bring up the fate of my companions without being too suspicious, I blurt out, “Where did he… I mean…where did The Devourer go?”
“Kassiel?” Rune turns his face to address me. “He has a name, as I know you’re aware, and one that isn’t meant to be an insult.”
The words aren’t said harshly but instead make me feel like Rune would prefer me to see something in his companion.