Six

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Six Page 12

by Rachel Robinson


  “Take away my fear!” I yell. Liam startles at my tone. He grabs the sides of my face tighter than Finn ever would.

  “I told you so,” he says, his tone robotic. My anger flares because he knows I am fearful of him and what he wants me to do, but he does not care. He expects me to ask him to erase my mind of emotion.

  “Please,” I beg. He lets go of my face and I wrap my arms around myself. He grabs the shoulders of my gown and slides them down until my breasts expose completely.

  “I will never deny you when you beg, Emmalina,” he grates. He motions with his head, and I scramble back on the bed. He kneels in front of me, his gaze fixated on my body. “Take it all the way off,” he says. With trembling hands I slide the gown off and expose my naked body to him. Everything about this feels odd and wrong. I have only every imagined sex with Finn.

  My skin crawls as Liam’s hands move closer. “Please take my fear, Liam…sir,” I ask again, desperate to be rid of it. Even as I say these words I know I am on the verge of feeling another emotion. He kicks off his slacks and slides toward me on the bed. Now his body is completely bare. With one hand on his erection he trails the other up to cup the side of my face.

  “I would have liked it better if you were scared, but you begged for me. Perhaps I will enjoy it more if you do as well.”

  I see his other hand moving on himself and I feel disgusted and used and it has not even begun yet. He glares at me with emptiness I do not understand—I cannot begin to understand.

  “I will take it away now,” Liam hisses, before his magic pools, encompassing both our bodies. He sits back on his heels and I watch the orb of dark, smoky magic as it retreats from my body to rest in his palm. All the cells that form my body expand and ignite with power. It weakens me substantially. Inspecting the orb closely, I find all my greatest fears spinning wilding in front of us. I see savages prowling, I see my mother’s dead body, and I see Louis’ face leering down at me. Finally, I see Finn walking away from me into the forest. I quake as Liam tosses the magical sphere against the wall. The glittering streams explode and disappear. My fear vanishes with the magic. The only emotion I have known my entire life has left my body and in its place is numbness. Beautiful nothingness.

  I lie back on the bed and stare at the golden ceiling with holograms flashing like stars in the sky. Liam rests his hands on each side of my head, and then his face cuts my view of the ceiling. His eyes are white, fierce, and extremely bright. He brings his lips down to meet mine. As his forceful tongue swirls in my mouth, I shut my eyes and let Finn’s face cloud my mind. I imagine his slightly parted lips, with gleaming white teeth showing in the middle. Finn’s tongue pries my mouth open wider. Finn’s sweaty hand rolls my breast and trails down the side of my body. Finn’s mouth places soft kisses on the inside of my thighs. I imagine it is Finn’s deft fingers that stroke me purposefully between my legs. I am detached. I am in Finn’s room, in his bed. I reach down and grab his hair as his tongue finally licks small circles at my core. I let my knees fall wide open.

  “Finn,” I breathe out hoarsely when quivering pleasure has me on edge. His tongue stops, forcing me out of my trance. His heavy breathing is suddenly right at my ear.

  “I am not Finn, darkling,” Liam’s voice says. My eyes fly open and meet his rapturous gaze. His lips shine wet, his face is wrong. Fear does not come as I suspect it should. Liam reaches down and places his erection at my center. “But you should already know that, because Finn can never do this.” He rocks his length into my body.

  Pain. I cry out once. This type of pain does not ease my mind. Liam growls in delight as he thrusts in further, filling me.

  “Ahhh. This was worth the wait,” Liam rasps. He does not wait for me to adjust. He ruts between my legs as if I am not there—because I am not. Liam is so preoccupied he does not notice when I rip Finn’s heart from my neck and ball it in my fist. I stretch my hand out, feeling for the edge of the bed. I turn my head to the side and look out the grandiose window. I see the lit flower gardens, the perfect palace, and the fated life that is now mine. The words of my fairy tale float through my mind as I open my fist.

  As I watch Finn’s heart slip through my fingers, tears pool in the sides of my blue eyes and blur my vision. Liam plunges into me deeply again and again taking exactly what he wants. When he finally stills, he grunts one final time before he collapses upon my body. Tears quietly streak down my face.

  I lose fear, but feel another that threatens something worse. I recognize it as one of the six. It overwhelms me, crushing me like impending death—I feel sadness.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  July 26th, Midday

  Days pass the same. I wake with the false sun and close my eyes against dishonest stars at night. I crave the gray of the circle sky, and the forest filled with creatures whose purpose is known. The sadness that fills me is unrelenting. Sorrow for my wasted life in the circle haunts my heart like an evil plague. But what overwhelms me so completely is the death of my mother. I am finally able to grieve for the loss that was not profound until I felt it was so. Now the memory from the night of her death replays constantly in my mind.

  There are five dark witches: three men and two women. Their eyes glow multiple shades of white. I am entranced, as I have never seen another witch before. In eighteen years I have only seen my mother and the creatures. The witches barge in and my mother takes me by the arm and pulls me to her, but I want to go to them. These witches are like me. I grab my ponytail when I realize that my silken blond hair is unlike their jet-black manes. I look dissimilar. They scrutinize me intently. The males ravage my body with their bright gazes and the women merely glance at me curiously.

  “Well, well, well. This darkling was definitely worth the wait,” a male says through gritted teeth, glancing at the others and then back to me. I smile because I think this means they are happy with me. Perhaps I will fit in where I am going. I think maybe the witch before me is my husband. “The prince will surely be happy with her.”

  “Her eyes,” the females say in unison. I forget they are blue and urge the white glow to return. All five of the witches smile, though it does not reach their eyes. I beam back at them as my mother wails in pain. When I turn to look, she is writhing on the floor in shocked torment. I kneel next to her because I am uncertain what is happening.

  “What is wrong?” I ask. A male witch has his fingers poised like daggers at my mother. The magic streams that leave his fingertips are punishing her body—her frail human body. I feel fear for her life. I choke back a scream.

  “Em,” mother whispers through her pain. “I am paying for my mistake.” She closes her eyes as another stream of killing magic courses through her body. “Live your life, baby. Make mine worth it.” My breaths come fast as comprehension dawns. I watch her sputter and gasp for air, and my heart races faster than I ever thought possible. Terror escalates into something larger than myself.

  “Say good-bye, darkling,” a female witch screeches behind me. I know what goodbye means, so I clutch her small hand in mine. I lean my face down close to hers and stroke an errant tear from her temple. I press a kiss to her cheek as I recall her doing to me as a child. When I am near enough she murmurs something softly.

  “They will kill you when they’re done with you—you’re important. The final correction.” A shiver runs down my spine at her words. I stand tall and back away from her slowly, carefully. The five have their eyes on my mother—my everything. The witches light the room with a burst of hot magic so bright I shield my eyes. She just paid for her grave mistake—my life.

  I run.

  I see her contorted face every time I close my eyes. My detachment from that very last moment with her is why my tears do not stop and the tightening in my chest is always present. No one at the palace is of any comfort to me. Liam offers to take my sadness away, but I do not agree. Accepting her death has made her life real. Liam cannot have that—he will not take that from me, too.

  The onl
y relief from the sinking feeling is turning it off. Forcing myself into the background to make room for my dark side. I let my eyes glow white because it stops the sobbing. I can catch my breath. The hum of magic lends a new sensation other than what consumes me. I can just be.

  Lily comes daily with food and forces me to shower, but she speaks not of my morose demeanor. She does not look at me oddly, for which I am thankful. She has not taken me to Liam’s rooms again since the first night. I know he will want me again soon. She enters my room without glancing at me and sets a tray of food down. I want to taste it and enjoy the delicious flavors I know are there, but I taste nothing. It is merely something I must do to survive—something I am not sure I want to do.

  “I am taking you to the gardens today, miss,” Lily says as she walks over to uncover my window. I have kept it covered for almost a week. I do not want to see out of it. I cannot see Finn. I am shamed, ruined…horrified at what Liam has taken. I close my eyes to avoid even a small glance when I see the exposed window.

  “Yes,” I say. I walk into the closet and select a dress without looking at it. “What is the occasion?” I ask. Lily, brown eyes shining, peers at me with approval when I exit the closet dressed in a dress of dizzying confection.

  “You need to get out of this room,” she remarks. I sit in front of a new large mirror that appeared within the last few days. I let Lily work on my appearance for the palace’s sake.

  “I will have to go to him tonight.” It is not a question, but Lily nods quickly, not meeting my eyes in the mirror. I suck in a deep breath. Not because I am scared, it is the opposite. I am relieved I cannot feel fear. This night will be easy. I think if I were to know that this is what my fated life was, I would have questioned my mother more often when she spoke of the correction. She was protecting me from the horrible truth for as long as she could.

  We exit into the hallway, but Lily is right. When my dark side is forward the holograms are less confusing. I see them for what they are. I see a few large portraits on the wall, several spinning decorations—nothing more. I hold my chin high as I pass other witches and darklings. I hide from them what their prince has done, knowing that I am the only one who cares. When we break free from the palace I see the gardens before us beckoning me. It is empty but for us, and I know it was planned to be so.

  “It is quite beautiful. I wish I could have seen the old world myself,” Lily says from behind me. I turn and realize her eyes are brown and tinged with a wistful notion. I wonder if she will want to hear, or even appreciate my mother’s stories of the old world.

  I reach my hand up to touch a red apple and the leaves that surround it. The smooth feeling and the fact that it is actually of substance surprise me. I pluck the apple from the tree and balance it on my hands. Magic has created everything here, yet it seems so real. I feel the weight and smell the sweet fragrance that seeps out.

  “This is amazing. I have never seen trees such as this before. The bark is brown and the leaves are green,” I explain, though Lily knows.

  The forests by the circle hold only black trees that appear lifeless. Here in this illusion, the colorful, delicate flowers flourish and nature thrums with life. The irony is not lost on me. My eyes flash back to blue. I want to see this as myself—to know that I behold these amazing things with my own eyes. I sit on a beautifully carved bench in the middle of the garden. I feel a light breeze, something I have never felt before. It blows a strand of hair across my face, tickling my nose. When I glance up at the palace beside me, I catch sight of movement in a window high above. I let my sharp senses focus and see Liam. He peers out his window. A smile bows his lips when he is sure I see him. I force a smile and tilt my wrist to give a small wave. He disappears from view.

  “Lily,” I say her name quietly. “Do you ever wish you could go back to your circle?” I know she will answer truthfully because I see how she looks at this place. She looks at it like I look at it.

  She turns her face to the sun and closes her eyes. “That is an impossibility, miss,” Lily responds. She comes to sit next to me.

  “What if it were possible? What if you challenged him for your freedom? What if you could feel?” I ask leaning in to mask my words. She raises her eyebrows.

  “You feel. Look at you. Why would I want that?”

  I frown. Lily looks worried she has spoken these words. I smile to reassure her. “Having joy is the most wonderful feeling in the world. Better than this.” I wave my hand to gesture to the gardens. I raise my face toward the heatless sun and then look at Lily. “Of course when you are sad,” I pause as a small wave of pain flows through my chest and ripples up my throat. “You are so low that you can barely function.” A few tears trickle down my face and I briskly wipe them away. I look down to the apple that sits in my lap. Another tear slides down my cheek and lands on the shiny surface and balls there.

  “Do you know how dangerous the abandoned city is, miss?”

  I look at her and cannot help a small sniffle. She will tell me what is outside of the palace walls. I wait, enthralled by the possibility of learning something new.

  “It is an expansive soot covered city—so large that you can be lost in one neighborhood for days…no, weeks. None of the palaces claim the territory, so it remains as it did when the old world fell. It is as the ancient humans left it. There are palaces with other challenging monarchies on every other side of it. It is directly in the middle. Without a spell, that only a dark witch can cast, there is no way back to the circles. The savages in the forests are nothing compared to the species that reside in the abandoned city. They are brutal and cannot be killed quickly,” Lily says. Her eyes glass over. She is remembering something horrible.

  “Remember the darkling that escaped the abandoned city? She was obviously tough, but the witches ended up destroying her because her mind was so rapt with fear. They could not take it away. That girl spoke of horned monsters and other winged creatures that breathed fury with their fire. She escaped into the palace by the use of a sorceress who makes these creatures her pets.”

  I swallow hard. If I could feel fear I know I would feel it hearing Lily’s story. Glad I am not fearful because I need to know more, I question her further. “There is only one sorceress? Where is she located?” I urge my voice lower still. The breeze that blows will only serve to uncover secrets I do not want anyone else to know. Lily swivels her head to look directly at me.

  “You are going to try. Are you not?”

  I do not answer. I turn my face to the distance—toward the abandoned city.

  “This will be your death, miss,” Lily hisses. “The sorceress is also said to be a mystic. She can predict futures with certain accuracy. The darkling was raving mad when she came here. I cannot even say for sure her words were truth.”

  They have to be, I think.

  “What will you do if you happen to survive and make it back to your circle? You think the prince will let you go free after you have run? After everything he has given to you? You are royalty—too important. You will be put to death,” Lily says.

  I smile widely. “He cannot kill me until I give him an heir, remember? It would go against his word. He promised his people. He will not go back on that. I plan to challenge him,” I say, though I know it will be much more difficult than that. I will need much help.

  Lily looks around us warily before she turns back to me. “Miss, I think he wants you more than he wants an heir. He never promised the citizens that your heir would rule. He will not accept any challenge that has the propensity to lose you. I am sure of it.”

  I know Lily is right, I can tell Liam’s words are only half-truths, but I am shocked she has told me this. I know of one challenge he will accept. The only challenge they always accept—though no one is brave enough to offer. “What if I feel all six?” I say.

  Lily shakes her head as soon as I speak. “Everyone knows that is impossible. Even if you feel five, love is all but gone the second you lose it as a child. It is why
humans are put to death when their darklings are fully raised. They feel love. Their love is the death of them.”

  My chest tightens as I think of my mother. It is because of her love that I feel. My eyes glow white to mask my sorrow. It becomes too unbearable. “What if I could?” I ask again, more disheartened this time.

  She breathes out a long sigh. “He would probably let you go free,” she says so low I barely hear her. Lily shakes her head in frustration. “Though someone would pay the price for his loss.”

  We break from our hushed conversation when we hear scuffling in the distance. I stand and squint my eyes in the direction of the noise. Lily shields her eyes from the sun to survey the outskirts of the garden as well.

  At least a dozen female and male witches are surrounding a flailing woman. She is thrashing, battering, swinging out in all-inclusive protest. Their eyes glow as they keep one arm locked on their hostage, their faces void of any emotion. When they walk closer, Lily smiles.

  “A new darkling,” she says. I see the jet-black hair shorn to her chin and ripped, unwashed clothing. When she turns her head and her silver eyes pin mine, I smirk. I should have known the second I saw her thrashing about. This is not just any darkling.

  “That is my new factotum,” I say, letting happiness lace my robotic voice. When the guards get closer, I hear her screaming profanities. They carry on the wind like a vulgar yet very welcome gift.

  “I said get your mothafuckin’ hands off me. I swear to the savages I will kill you, your mothers, and your babies while you sleep!” Lana screeches. She punches out when her hand gets free.

  Though I am laughing, I am irritated because I do not want her injured by the guards.

  “Emma,” Lana wails when she catches sight of me. “Call these damn creepers off me!” She kicks out a booted foot and it connects with a male witch’s stomach. The twelve guards glare at me, obviously stunned I have chosen the violent darkling as my factotum. They look at me as if they have made a mistake and collected a feral beast instead. I raise my hand up and they release her.

 

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