It’s not real. Not real. Not real.
I twisted my ring, willing whatever force that protected it from harm to envelope me in the same invisible shield. My mind cleared and the illusion of Raif faded. I had no idea how to channel the ring’s power. At this point I was blindly stabbing and praying I hit something. I’d never disdained the secrets Tyler and I kept from each other more than I did now. If he’d only told me what Nys’Asdar was, what it did, I might not be here right now. Because wishing sure as hell wasn’t getting me anywhere. Either Tyler was still locked in a PNT jail cell and was unable to grant my wishes, or Padma’s power blocked our bond somehow. Either way, I was fucked.
When my mind fogged and the illusions became too much, I swore I’d do anything to get out of this place. But in moments of lucidity—like now—I prayed to whatever gods might listen that no one would come for me. I wasn’t just a prisoner serving a murder sentence, I was a bargaining chip. Bait. Padma was after a bigger fish than me. She was after the one who’d paid me.
I might’ve been the one who’d killed Azriel, but I hadn’t been the one to sign his death warrant. Xander had done that, taking Az out before he’d had the chance to overthrow Xander’s throne and take control of the Shaede kingdom. His move had been political and not emotional. Okay, maybe a little emotional. Xander had loved Azriel. For all intents and purposes, he’d been his son. And his betrayal had cut deep. If there was one thing I knew about the Shaede King, it was that he didn’t take betrayal lightly.
“Darian.”
No. No, no, no, no. no. My own thoughts conjured the illusion of my next torturer. I felt like Scrooge being visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past. These three were my weakness. I loved each of them in one way or another and my fear of letting any one of them down cut my soul to the quick.
“Darian, look at me.”
Unlike the illusions of Ty and Raif, Xander was always gentle. Seductive. Forgiving in a way that made me hate myself even more. “No.” I knew better than to let him in, to talk to something that wasn’t real, but I couldn’t help it. “Go the fuck away.”
“Please come home, Darian. Where you belong.”
His golden eyes shone with tender emotion. Xander would never implore me to do anything. Xander expected obedience. “Your magic must be slipping, Padma. Because the Xander I know would never ask anyone to do anything.” My ring had to be blocking her to some extent. She used my own mind against me, violating the memories and emotions that were mine and mine alone.
Xander’s lips thinned, his eyes drawing down sharply over his eyes. “I killed your Jinn.”
My composure slipped another notch. Was that why my wishes weren’t being granted? Was it why I was still here, rotting in this hole? I pressed my fingertips to my temples and rested my forehead on my drawn-up knees. “You’re a liar,” I said through clenched teeth. “I know you’re lying.”
“I walked into his cell and Adare let me. His rage was palpable, but he was bound by Fae magic and impotent. I ran a dagger straight through his heart. I warned him not to come between me and what is mine.” I brought my head up. Xander’s hands were slick with blood. “You will never belong to any male save me.”
I pushed myself up from the floor, launching myself at his body. The illusion dissolved and I crashed to the cold, hard ground. “You fucking bitch!” My enraged shriek echoed through the system of caves for long seconds. “I’m going to run my dagger through your heart!”
Low, wicked laughter filtered toward me with all of the charm of a cartoon villain. Padma stepped from the shadows looking every bit as supermodel gorgeous as she had the day Lorik brought me here. She dressed like a queen, all regal silks and gold, jewelry adorning her neck and arms. My emerald pendulum dangled between her breasts and I swore I’d rip it from her before this was all said and done. The delicate gold hoop in her nose glinted in the low light as she graced me with a sinister smile.
“Azriel told me once that you had an unbreakable spirit. Of course, I didn’t believe him.” Az had certainly taken after his mother. They shared the same dark, fathomless eyes, flawless dark skin, and mesmerizing beauty that drew my gaze. They also shared similar dark hearts and cruel souls. “He loved you. Did you know that? And you rewarded him for his love by running your dagger through his chest.”
Her eyes flashed with venom as she drew her arm back and let it fly. The backhand connected with my jaw and echoed off the walls with a sickening pop. Blood trickled from the split in my lip and I flicked out with my tongue, lapping it away before I spat at Padma’s feet. “Azriel loved himself. And I didn’t kill him in cold blood. He struck first. I defended myself.”
“You killed him at Alexander’s behest,” the queen of ghouls seethed. “The two of you conspired against him.”
We’d been doing this song and dance for what felt like months. Torture, more torture, followed up with another healthy dose of torture, only to have her berate me afterward. As though beating this dead horse would bring her son back to her. “If anyone conspired, it was Azriel. He planned his coup, allied himself with Lyhtans to overthrow Xander’s throne. Would you be so eager to be deposed, Padma? Would you roll over for your enemy?”
“No enemy!” Padma shrieked. “Azriel was Alexander’s son!”
The issue of Az’s paternity was tricky. Padma had already been pregnant with him when Xander met her, so he wasn’t Xander’s son by birth. But Xander had made Padma a Shaede and thereby made Azriel one as well—though like me, they were both hybrids at the very least. So I suppose that made Azriel Xander’s son by magic. And Xander had raised him as his own which made him his son by choice. But Azriel betrayed him and if there was one thing I’d learned over the past few years, it was that a king could not afford to forgive his enemies, no matter who they might be.
“He was a prisoner in Xander’s custody. He might have been spared.”
Padma let out a derisive snort. “As though his watchdog of a brother would have permitted that to happen.”
It was true that Raif didn’t fuck around when it came to Xander’s safety, but he’d loved Azriel, too. “None of us will know what might have happened. Azriel sealed his own fate. I told you, he drew first. I did what I had to do to protect myself.”
Crack! Another fist connected squarely with my face. For such a dainty—not to mention haughty—looking woman, Padma had no trouble packing a punch. “What is that ring on your thumb, Darian?”
Her voice was as smooth and sweet as freshly whipped cream. Xander had told me once that what Padma loved more than anything—even her own child—was power. “This?” I examined my thumb as though I’d forgotten I was still wearing it. “Just a ring.”
“Where did it come from?”
I could answer that question honestly. “I have no idea.”
She hit me again, harder, and I went reeling backward. “Give it to me.”
I spit again to clear my mouth of blood and looked her dead in the eye. “Not a fucking chance.”
“My mage claims it’s older than the universe.”
I spat again. Lord, that taste was nasty. “You don’t say?”
Smack! God damn it.
Padma turned to someone behind her. “Bleed her.”
Power surged up my arm, leaving me chilled and shaking. But with it came a renewed sense of strength and I rose to my feet as several Rakshasa guards filtered into the dank cavern that had become my prison. I brought my fist around, catching one in the throat. Kicked out at another and caught her square in the gut. For the hundredth time since I’d come here, I tried to leave my corporeal form behind, but it wasn’t going to happen. Instead, I swung up with an elbow catching another guard in the jaw just before they all converged on me, taking me to the ground.
“Fuck you, Padma!” I shouted as they restrained me. “I hope you choke on it!”
An obsidian chalice was held under my wrist while one of her henchmen opened my vein with a razor-sharp blade. I sucked in a sharp breath and gnashe
d my teeth against the pain. Crimson bloomed over my skin and poured into the chalice. My skin pulled tight as it healed and the son of a bitch cut deeper this time, severing tendons and nerves in an effort to keep my blood flowing and fresh for as long as it took to fill the cup. Nausea rolled through me as I tried not to black out. Even supernatural beings could only take so much pain and my brain threatened to shut down.
Keep your shit together, Darian. Do not let her think she’s bested you.
The wound healed, the nerves knitting back together, and I flexed my hand as sensation returned. Padma only took blood from my left wrist. I assumed it was because she hoped to absorb some of the ring’s power. I doubted it worked that way, but who was I to rain on her parade?
“Would it surprise you to know that Alexander is coming for you despite the fact that you spurned him?” Padma sipped my blood as though it were a fine merlot. It stained her lips deep red and tinted her teeth a grisly pink. Not attractive. “He never did take defeat well. Dying so you can live is certainly getting in the last word, wouldn’t you agree, Darian?”
Seemingly polite conversation while I was being restrained by a bevy of guards didn’t exactly encourage me to be talkative. Besides, I knew what she was after. Padma was pushing my buttons, trying to get a reaction out of me. No fucking way would I give her what she wanted. I kept as still as possible and simply stared at her.
“I won’t make it quick. Your torture will be like a spa vacation in comparison to what I plan to do to him. When he begs me for death, I won’t give it to him. When he cries like a child, sitting in his own filth and consumed by fear, I won’t show him mercy. After I’ve stripped the flesh from his bones and glutted myself on his blood, I will give him no quarter. Alexander Peck’s suffering will be endless and he will pay for what he did to my son.”
On the outside, I was a glassy lake. Inside, the water churned furiously. The urge to insult her, to do a little button pushing of my own swelled in my chest and pushed up my throat. Raif would never let Xander turn himself over in exchange for my freedom. Raif loved me, but Xander was his king, his responsibility, and his blood. I didn’t begrudge him for it, either. It wouldn’t be an easy decision for him to make, but a necessary one nonetheless. Just like killing Azriel hadn’t been easy for me.
“What’s the matter, Darian? Cat got your tongue?” Padma’s sly smile caused a chill to dance up my spine. Her confidence unnerved me. Goddamn it, if Xander, Raif, or any of them risked their lives to save me, I’d kill them myself. “I’d hoped you’d be more conversational this evening.” Padma took a deep swallow from the chalice and her lip curled in a distasteful sneer. “She’s not nearly distressed enough,” she said to the guards that held me. “Do something about that, will you?”
Well, shit. Looked like mental and emotional torture weren’t the only things on tonight’s schedule after all. A fist landed solidly with my gut and I doubled over, gasping for breath. I focused my thoughts in an effort to block out the pain and tried once again to call on the ring’s power. A breath of cold caressed my skin as a booted foot made contact with my knee and buckled it. Pain radiated up my thigh and I bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. The cold dissipated, retreating back into the ring.
Goddamn it, Tyler. The least you could have done was given me a set of directions for this thing.
Blow after blow connected until the pain became too much and my own supernatural body couldn’t keep up with the damage being done. Inky black invaded the periphery of my vision and I welcomed oblivion. It might be the last bit of respite I ever got.
CHAPTER THREE
“It took less than three months to break you. I always knew your reputation was inflated.”
I stared across the cell at the illusion of Tyler. He sat with his back against the wall, one arm slung over a raised knee. He contemplated me with a cold, emotionless stare that sent a frigid shiver over my skin. A twinge of pain pulled at my left biceps, the skin there still raw. Padma had forced me to watch while she dined on my flesh after this most recent bout of torture. I was seriously considering becoming a vegetarian if I ever made it out of this place alive. As it was, the thought of stomaching a leaf of lettuce seemed damned near impossible.
Exhaustion tugged at my eyelids, urging them down. I couldn’t manage more than a minute or two of sleep at a time. I didn’t trust Padma not to come at me when I wouldn’t see it coming. Though I’m not sure it mattered. Even when I was ready for it, there was little I could do to prepare or defend myself.
“Don’t you ever shut up?” I didn’t know if talking to the illusions would relay what I said to Padma or not. Hell, maybe giving in and engaging would only push me to the brink of my sanity. But if I continued to stare, to take in the likeness of Tyler’s gorgeous form conjured by my own mind, I’d crack for sure.
He pushed himself up from the floor and crossed the short space that separated us. He squatted down beside me and reached out to comb his fingers through my hair. My breath hitched as a lump formed beneath my sternum. Emotion choked the air from my lungs and I fought to keep a level head. My voice cracked as the words left my lips in a ragged whisper, “Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with?”
“You don’t deserve to die, Darian.” Tyler spoke with loving sincerity. He continued to stroke my hair and I fought the urge to lean into his touch. “You have to pay for what you’ve done.”
My eyes drifted shut and I let out a stuttering breath. When I opened them again, I no longer stared into the fascinating pattern of Ty’s hazel eyes, but fathomless midnight. A sob lodged itself in my throat as I jerked violently away.
“You claim self-defense, but you and I both know that you could have spared me if you’d truly wanted to.” Azriel’s voice slithered over me in a dark caress. His full lips turned up in a sinister smile as he canted his head to one side. “The truth of the matter is that you wanted me to die. You hated me for lying to you. Abandoning you. You would have killed me without the benefit a paycheck. Would have run your dagger across my throat even if my father had chosen to give me clemency. You wanted revenge, Darian. And you took it.”
Was he right? Would I have killed him whether or not I’d been paid to do it? Whether or not Xander chose to spare him? Was I so petty that my own stubborn pride would have allowed me to kill him whether he’d come at me first or not?
“You conspired with Delilah to kill me. You allied with Lyhtans to overthrow Xander. You signed your own death warrant, Azriel. Don’t blame me for your own jack-assed mistakes.”
That I continued not only to talk to figments of my imagination, but to reason with them, had to be a sign that I’d finally lost my mind.
“He ordered me away from you. Made me a prisoner. Kept me from the only thing in this world that I loved! You allied yourself with my jailer! And then you fell into his bed. You chose Xander over me, Darian. Who betrayed whom?”
The illusion of Azriel was a manifestation of my own guilt. Padma didn’t have to dig deep to find an arsenal of weapons to use against me, all she had to do was tap into my mind and let me do all of the work for her. Rakshasa knew how to exploit the dark emotions people kept bottled up inside of themselves. Brilliant. Efficient.
God, I hated her.
“I didn’t fall into anyone’s bed but yours.” It was true that Xander and I had come dangerously close to crossing a line, but Raif had interrupted us before things had gone too far. I never should have let it go so far. Never should have used Xander to assuage my own broken heart. The guilt of it was a bitter gall and Padma exploited that guilt. “You played me, Azriel. Delilah led you to me and you seduced me, knowing I’d play into a larger plan. You never loved me.”
“Says the woman who’s incapable of love.”
“If I had a dagger, I’d cut you again,” I seethed. “Just to have the pleasure of watching you bleed out.”
Of course, I lied. Killing Azriel was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. His death haunted me. Obviously. But
I wanted to hurt Padma. And the only weapons in my arsenal were my words.
Azriel’s eyes narrowed into hateful slits. “You are truly worthless. Incapable of being loved.”
I gave him look for look. A tear slipped down my cheek and I hated myself for it. “I am what you made me.”
“I should have let Henry end your miserable life that night.”
His words were a sword thrust that speared my heart. My human life came to an end the moment Azriel showed up in it. I’d been abused, a victim of my own weakness. Henry would have beaten me to death if Azriel hadn’t saved me. Made me a Shaede. “Maybe you should have.” I didn’t have any fight left in me at this point. I just wanted him to shut the hell up.
On and on it went for hours. Azriel berated me. Ridiculed me. Curled his lip with disgust as he looked at me. I waited for Padma to change it up. To send Ty back to torment me, or Xander to offer me false comfort that would inevitably unravel me. Or maybe make me endure Raif’s endless disappointment in me.
I had no idea what month it was. What time of day. I no longer felt the presence of the light as a tingle on my skin, or the stifling warmth of the gray hour. Here, I was cold. Always cold. Padma came with her guards. She beat me, bled me to the point that I could barely stand, cut strips of me away as she feasted on my fear. And through it all, she reminded me that my treatment was nothing compared to what Xander’s would be.
When I could no longer support the weight of my own head, she ordered her guards to throw me to the ground and she left me blissfully alone. Quiet pressed down on me, its weight a welcomed shield to the unceasing voices that whispered in my ear. I breathed in the scent of dry earth beneath me and wondered for the thousandth time, where in the hell had Lorik taken me? Where was I? And if anyone was crazy enough to come after me, would they even be able to find me?
Maybe Padma had no intention of trading my life for Xander’s. It could have been another one of her mind games, just a torture device meant to twist the knife of guilt that was buried in my gut. If that was the case, could I expect to be kept here for as long as my preternatural life would allow? Subject to endless days of torture until I couldn’t take any more? The ragged scream that built in my chest released in a forceful burst that left my throat raw and aching.
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