Ironic that he might be leading me to my death now, doing the very thing he’d forced me to fight against—the impulse to die.
He hadn’t used words to distract me, but his fists. And it’d worked. Every beating had reminded me that I was still alive, that I could still feel, very unlike Emelyn and my parents.
They would be disappointed to know how much I’d craved my early grave all those years ago. They’d have told me to live when they couldn’t.
But would they approve of who I am now?I wondered.Would they approve of who I’ve become?
Because I didn’t feel all that respectable right now.
If they could see me right now, they would probably be disgusted.
I’d originally brought Camillia back here because it was a place I loathed, but somehow fate had twisted on me, making me realize that I’d also taken her close to the graves of fallen loved ones. My behavior acted as a desecration of their existence.
I tortured an innocent woman with snake vines.
I wanted to kill her.
All for what? To save my reputation?
No, that wasn’t true. It was so much deeper than that. I’d felt betrayed. Disappointed that I’d let someone under my skin when I’d vowed never to do that again after Emelyn.
And I’d feltused.
But that wasn’t an excuse for how I’d behaved. I should have believed Camillia when she’d first spoken, should have realized that she was scared and confused and incapable of such betrayal.
I barely know her,I thought, trying to defend myself.We’ve played one time. Spent a few hours in a cell. That’s it. How was I supposed to know she was truthful?
I shook my head, exhausted by this argument, pained by Az thoroughly kicking my ass, and just flat-out done with being in this realm.
Az practically dragged me up the obsidian stone stairs to the main doors, hauling me inside as snake vines hissed along the walls. They didn’t lunge at him, something I found surprising, given the amount of hostility radiating off his large frame.
Perhaps they sensed that his retribution was due.
And maybe they were right.
My leg ached as he tugged me down the hall toward the back stairwell. It was still enchanted with old spells, ones I had to whisper to let us through, then down we went toward the dungeon beneath.
Gargoyles lounged lazily near knobless doors, their jobs long since expired since Queen Aflora had decommissioned the use of this building.
I wondered if Shade had used any of the cells as fire practice for Florica before going up to the main council chamber.
There hadn’t been any residual damage that I could smell, likely as a result of Zakkai’s cleanup spell.
Az suddenly jerked to a halt, his nose twitching and making me wonder if I’d missed the stench of burning wood somewhere.
But then I saw what had Az’s focus—Sir Callahan. He was strung up in glittering strands near the top of the ceiling with a gleaming red apple stuffed in his mouth. His beady, ruby-colored eyes glared with rage.
“Shit,” I breathed. Then I caught a familiar scent of ambrosia, causing my eyes to narrow. “Hold on…”
I pulled out my wand to open the bespelled door outside of Camillia’s cell and pushed it open to see her sitting on the bed beside a water cooler that hadn’t been there when I’d left.
“Melek,” I said, more to Az’s Phoenix than to Camillia. “Of course he couldn’t stay away.” The prince always seemed to be meddling with Camillia.
What is it about this female that has all of us so tangled up?
She had Melek’s full attention, Az’s Phoenix caught up in some sort of mating high, and me lost in the clouds of my past.
I shook my head, then winced as Az shoved me into the room with a force meant to make me stumble. My bad leg gave out, taking me to my knees in front of a very startled Camillia.
