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“I’m sure he has friends, and the whole point of smuggling you out is to draw as little attention to ourselves as possible. He either needs to give you the keys amicably or he needs to be put down...What did he ask for?”
“He wants me to share his bed.” My voice drips with disdain, but I’m not sure if it’s the idea of sleeping with him or the fact Gael called me out that irks me more. Downing the hatch, I barely take the glass away from my lips before Loric plucks it from my grasp. His chest rises and falls, quicker than before, his silver eyes glowing now. “Gods, I only had two cups. I grew up in a dungeon, let me enjoy the taste of freedom for a moment.”
I feel his stare still boring into the side of my face.
“I don’t give a damn if you drink. Take the bottle if you want, just make sure you can walk. I’m tired of carrying you.”Ah, there he is.The grump is back. “And no offense, but this man wouldn’t even be a problem had you not enjoyedthe taste of him.” Loric's words, harsh and unfiltered, hang between us, but he makes no effort to take them back.
Something deep inside my chest breaks as heat floods my face. I’m not some common whore. I cared about him. Gael was the first person I wasn’t forced upon who acted like they genuinely liked me, that he wanted to know more–to get to know me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a friend. Sure, I had Asmo and Meg, but they were like parents. He was different. How was I supposed to know he was using me?
Gael approaches us, his smug expression like a flame to my already frayed temper. “So, have we decided then, darling? Will you grace my bed, or do I show you to the door?”
Tears rim my eyes, but I put every ounce of effort into keeping the tears from falling. It’s not the time or the place to be weak. My heart seethes, turning to stone in my chest as I fight to calm the tidal waves of emotions raging through me. My power grows until the sparks in my fingertips form black smoke. It coils tightly around my body, weaving over my flesh like a protective shield, like a warning for both of them to keep their distance. It dances in the air, barely visible in my peripheral vision, and white noise of voices–of the other patrons in the pub–dwindles into complete and utter silence.
“You don’t even know me,” I snap, my voice a sharp blade. Pushing off the barstool, I step toward Loric. His eyes are wide, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look an ounce afraid. Still, he doesn’t lean away or move an inch. Just watches. I poke him in the chest, tossing my other hand in the air and continuing to speak when he stays silent. “I don’t have to justifyanything–”
My words cut off in my throat as power bursts from my hand… The one I flailed, the one Italkedwith… Dark tendrils slice through the bar in either direction, moving with predatory grace. I didn’t mean to release them. I didn’t even know I couldthrow themlike that, but they surge forward, and I’m powerless to stop them.
Gael’s eyes widen in shock, his smugness evaporating as the shadowy ropes lash towards him. I’m not even sure who the ones leaving my right side are aiming for. I’m too scared to look away from Gael as they strike with the precision of a hawk seizing its prey, coiling around him in a relentless grip. I watch, horrified, as the darkness runs in choppy lines, like veins or spider webs, covering every inch of exposed flesh in seconds.
“No!” I try to retract them, to reel back the part of me that I've unleashed, but it’s too late. Gael’s freckled skin cracks like stone, hardening, then crumbles to ash.
Loric is at my side in an instant, his hand sliding up my arm until it can rest on top of my shoulder, and the warmth of his presence cascades up my back. “Looks like our problem is solved.”
As if his words could break the silence, voices explode, chairs tip and smash to the ground, and the people, the criminals that once laughed and drank in the pub are all gone. They’ve run out into the night.
Loric’s grip on my shoulder tightens, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that speaks of fear, concern, and something else — something that looks a lot like understanding. “You didn’t mean to, but his death was the right thing.”
I’m having a hard time believing that. A tear slips down my cheek as I move away from him, circling the bar to peer at the ashes. He’s gone. I should be glad, but I can’t be. As I stand here, witnessing the wreckage of what my power can do, I understand why the king locked me away. It wasn’t just to study me, it was to keep the realm safe from what I can do. From the chaos I can create.
Chapter 11
Calamity
As Loric snatches the keys from the bartop, his motions are swift, precise. He tugs me along and I follow numbly, my mind still reeling from what I did to Gael. I haven’t had a moment to process, to think, to mourn… He might’ve been an ass, but it didn’t mean he deserved death. It didn’t mean I needed to be the one to bring it upon him.
Guilt coils in my stomach, nauseating enough to make my knees weak. I can’t bring myself to look away from the colorless pile of ashes and what remains of his clothes–of him. Even as I’m guided to the corner of the room, and Gael’s no longer in visible sight, I still can’t.
Something metal squeals. Hinges, maybe? Furniture being moved.
“Calamity.” My name… It should be enough to get my attention. Moreover, the way he says it should. It’s spoken so sweetly, like one would to a child or someone they cherish.
Rough, calloused hands with a gentle touch move my hair over my shoulder, and only when they brush against the smooth, softcrook of my neck do I look to find silver eyes gleaming back at me, glowing like halos.
“Are you alright?” Loric’s voice is deeper somehow as he studies me. I don’t think anything I said would’ve curbed his need to make sure I’m okay without seeing it himself. Not with the way his gaze searches me, as if looking for physical wounds that only he can see.
But why? Why does he care? He barely knows me, and I him. There’s no reason for him to care. I’m a duty he can’t wait to be rid of.
“I’m fine. Or will be.” Dropping my head, I turn away from him, and suddenly the metal sound I heard becomes clear. It’s a passage, hidden behind a long, thick wooden shelf they’ve moved out of the way, revealing a dark tunnel and wooden stairs that seem to disappear after the second plank. To where, I have no idea.
He clears his throat. “In case, I’ll be right behind you. Mira moved the vines to hide the door, but just to be sure, I’d rather put the shelf back. There’s a lot of people who know about the bar, not so much what’s below it. I don’t want anyone stumbling downstairs and catching us off guard.”
“I don’t intend to be off guard, do you?” I cock my head, but keep my gaze on the tunnel before me.
“It’s calledoff guardfor a reason. It’s not planned. Now go, I’d rather prepare for the worst.” The screech of the shelf sliding against the stone hits me, but I don’t move.
“I’m not going first.” Rooting my feet to the spot, I hear Loric huff.
“You’re not. Mira and Vik are down there already.” Loric’s breathes are heavy, as if moving the shelf was laborious work.
