CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Soren
When Ayron finally leaves the dungeons, the stoic formation of the other guards eases and the air grows thick with their satisfaction. As they share smug looks, they begin to speak openly about their treachery to the true Celestial bloodline, all pretense now gone.
Their frivolity doesn’t last long, drying up the longer Prince Gage and I ignore their antics. The mood shifts into confusion as we sit in our cells staring blankly at the worthless males, and then it distorts into gall that we’re not giving them the satisfaction of our anger or madness. None of these gutless males is worth a single word, but they’ll all fall to the retribution building within me.
I don't know what thoughts the goblin prince entertains to pass the time, but I refuse to be idle or to ignore Rooke’s fears about my magic. My power is returning to me in a slow trickle, and I refuse to fail my Fates-blessed mate any further. After seeing Gage’s reactions to my paltry efforts at a sound barrier, her urgency becomes my own, and I determine to strengthen mycontrol before the full extent of it returns. It’s deceptively easy to reach out to my magic; I’m growing accustomed to the feel of it and its demands, although when I test the boundaries of my control, I find the task far more difficult.
Namely, my magic ignores me. Only a few hours ago, it answered my call easily, but now it wallows within my chest as though sulking, no urgency to force its submission. I wouldn’t take that well in times of peace but, now, trapped in this cell with Rooke at the mercy of my uncle’s tyranny, I’m forced to wrestle with my own temper before I try again. Painstakingly slowly, I coax it into flowing through my limbs at my command, and I practice until directing the power at my will becomes seamless. Then, impatient and arrogant as ever, I decide to test my control and almost blow a hole in the dungeon wall.
The plan is simple enough; to think of something that truly enrages me while I hold my magic firmly, only Norok‘s drawling comments about Rooke flash into my mind unbidden, and the very suggestion of that male, or any other, touching my Fates-blessed mate loosens my grip on my magic. I spiral into a maelstrom of chaos as I wrest it back into the deepest pits within myself.
In the cell next to mine, Gage turns to stone, my senses sharp enough to sense him even with my eyes screwed shut, but I ignore his alarm as I fight to keep the power within my grasp. With every passing minute, I slip closer to the edge of oblivion but, finally, I get the magic stored away once more. With a deep breath, I share a glance with Gage before I return to smaller feats of practice.
As hours of this work drag on, fatigue begins to eat at me, but I refuse to sleep without knowing Rooke is safe. I can feel her through our connection, clearer now than ever before, and though she hasn’t tried to contact me, I know she’s awake and her magic barrier is cast. Shields are her strongest gift, and I’vewitnessed the power she wields, so this should ease me, but it doesn't, not at all.
As the evening stretches on, the high fae in the other cells hunch into themselves to get some sleep, and the sounds in the room finally whittle down to beating hearts alone. Even Gage lets his eyes slip shut, though I can’t be sure that he sleeps; I’ve never heard a sleeping goblin’s heartbeat before.
When the changing of the guard happens, a sure sign of midnight, and Rooke is still awake, a pulse of dread works through my blood. I push at our connection, and satisfaction swells in my chest when she instantly lets down the wall between us to speak to me.
Are you okay?
I send back a surly feeling, frustrated at her calm tone while I’m consumed by thoughts of her. I'm sure the path of our shared fate would be far smoother if I could soften my edges for her, but she only sharpens them, taking me to new heights with every interaction until I’m sure the drop will kill me.
Why aren’t you sleeping?
This ruffles her more than I was expecting. It’s not anger at my tone or frustration that I’m making demands of her again, but the emotion that churns within her is so foreign to me that I can’t put my finger on it until she finally answers.I’ll dream of horrors. I can hold my shields even asleep, but wielding magic while I’m… in that state is not wise.
She’s embarrassed.
Stronger and more capable than anyone I’ve ever met, she still feels icy shame at her terror and sense of helplessness, though she’s the first to defend others grappling with traumas. This should be enough for me to ease up on her, but, ashes curse me, I always want more from her.
Why you are so sure that you’ll dream? Because you're alone in your chambers, or has something else happened? Was it the Ancient?
She’s slow to answer—slow enough that I prepare to pry it out of her, but then finally she says,After the regent was done with his games, the witches who used their magic against you saw me back to my rooms. One of them admitted he was amongst those who deceived the Ravenswyrd Forest… and murdered my coven.
It takes me a moment to register her words, then it tears through my body like an act of the Fates themselves and a sickening realization with it; my Fates-blessed mate is alone and unprotected in this nightmarish castle with a witch responsible for the massacre of her family and the rest of the Favored Children.
My rage overwhelms every one of my senses and tests my newfound control to its limits, my chest seizing as fury burns through me. When the blinding white finally recedes from my vision and my anger simmers back down to a manageable level, I find that not only is Gage staring at me once again but I’ve also caught the attention of the guards. Ignoring the frantic murmuring of our captors, I shake my head at the goblin prince, unable to give him an explanation in case it reignites my anger.
What did they say to you, I demand the moment I'm sure that whatever her answer is, it won't have my magic leveling the entire castle.
She’s quiet again, her pause long enough that sure I must've misstepped again, but when she finally answers me, her words are softened with an affection I’m not sure I deserve but crave desperately.
He threatened me, but it was nothing more than what I’ve heard before. He also told me more of your uncle's plans—a knife in each hand, ready for the backs of allies and enemies allthe same, but I'm not sure either of us was expecting anything different.
I certainly wasn't. Turning away from Gage, I stare at the ceiling where the orange glow of the torches flickers and enjoy her presence even when there are no words spoken between us. When the silence stretches on, she begins to retreat. Whether she thinks I want her to leave or needs the space herself, I don't know, but I push a wordless demand at her to stay put. I’m prepared to argue with her until she relents, but she instantly moves back to me in a way that steals my breath.
Tell me something, croí, a long story. There are many hours left until dawn.
She hesitates, and I sense her carefully tamping down her shock, then says,You don't need to stay awake with me, Soren. One of us should be well rested.
Is there any way for me to keep the connection open between us while you sleep?
She hesitates again.I don’t know. Maybe if we had more experience in using the connection, but I can’t be sure.
I settle back into position, rolling my shoulders, but it does nothing to ease the tight muscles. Sending her feelings of contentment and calmness, I push at our connection to see what else I can sense through it and, though she’s surprised at my presumption, Rooke shows me exactly where she is. Curled up in one of the seats in a guest room in the king’s wing, shoes off and cloak tucked tightly around her. I’d prefer her to be comfortable and lying on the bed, but if she’s so concerned about falling asleep and the nightmares overtaking her, this is tolerable.
