Vallie shrieked against the vines as the King drank from the cup. Droplets of blood lingered on his lips as Athler’s powers became his for the next twenty-four hours. I thought back to all the Advenians chained in the lower levels of the dungeons, of how many powers the King possessed if he drank from that many people every day. He had every ability known to Lux because he stole it.
I cowered in my chains, realizing how powerful that made him, now understanding why my enhancement always felt off around him. There was always too much to enhance.
He snapped his fingers, and the vines immediately disappeared, releasing Vallie from its menacing grip. She staggered forward, red marks denting across her calves and thighs from where they had wrapped around her.
“It’s a shame you weren’t born Luxian. If you were, you wouldn’t have needed to see my healer.” Vallie winced as his fingers grazed across her hips. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she tried to pull away. He grabbed Vallie’s bloodied arm. “Stop resisting,” he purred, and I wanted to vomit as Vallie’s movements stilled. Her posture started to relax into himinstead of away, and I knew he was using Athler’s ability. It was worse than compulsion because while it was happening, I knew Valliewouldthinkshe wanted it, but the moment it’d wear off, the moment he would let her feelings be hers again, everything would come crashing back.
“I have a thing for redheads,” he said as his gaze took in every inch of her. He twirled her hair, twisting it around his finger. Then his voice lowered to a whisper, but I heard every syllable. “You want to please me.”
“Yes.” Her voice was breathless.
“Good girl,” the King murmured. “Come with me.” Before he dragged Vallie away, he met my stare. “Pheromones are perhaps my favorite ability. So many marvelous things can be done with it.”
I watched in horror as he led my best friend into the next room. I caught a glimpse of a bed looming in the distance before he shut the double doors, blocking me from view and trapping her inside. And I could do nothing, absolutely nothing but sit on the cold, dried blood of the dead servant and wait.
I didn’t think things could get worse, but I was wrong. I pulled at my chains as I heard my friend’s cries change from agony to pleasure.
I hated him. I hated him so much. It was a different level of fucked up to change the way someone was feeling, to force them to like you, to force them to do things they didn’t actually want to do.
Athler only stared. The bloodied dagger he used on Vallie was still in his hand as he twirled it over and over again, taunting me.
It felt like an eternity before the doors to the King’s bedroom finally opened, and he threw Vallie onto the floor. She screamed as her legs tripped over the dead servant, causing her to land hard on her side.
“Bring the compulsion user in to watch them and have him tie her up on the other side of the room.”
Athler nodded and followed the King out of the room. Kole entered a second later. He paused, staring at Vallie crying on the floor. The white slip she had on earlier was gone, leaving her completely naked.
Kole walked toward her, his movements slowed as he guided her toward the opposite end of the room. She blindly followed him and didn’t protest as he gently clamped shackles around her wrists, covering her rank two brand. I tried to crawl toward her, but my chains pulled taut, and I fell on my face.
“Vallie, I—” I didn’t know what to say.I’m sorrywasn’t enough.
She turned away from me and curled up into a ball on the floor. But before she did, I caught sight of her eyes, and they looked more dead than the boy’s next to me.
THIRTY-TWO
SIE
“I knowhow to get her back.” Wells—the mortal boy—came up to Tezya at breakfast two weeks later. Peter and I were sitting a few tables down from Tezya and his friends, but everyone quieted to listen.
The dining tent and training rings at the evacuation camp were the only areas that were the same size as the previous one. Everything else suffered. There were more communal tents than anyone cared for, almost no one had their own. And instead of multiple bath houses, there was only one now. It was all small—too damn small for the amount of Advenians that claimed it as their home.
It had taken us a total of five days to move out and another two to properly set up new shields. Every air user of Lux and illusion user of Tennebris were called to help with the task. And now everyone was settling in and adjusting, getting used to the new camp. Everyone except for Wells. He seemed almost as miserable as Tezya, which was hard to imagine.
The previous camp’s location was positioned over an old home, which I only found out while we were evacuating. It had been converted into the human’s lab. It took a day alone tomove all of the things he had jammed inside the place. And he somehow still managed to claim two entire tents for himself when most Advenians were stuck sleeping on the ground. One tent was for his personal use while the other was for his new makeshift lab. But since he was the main reason the shields were working so well, no one complained about it. That and the fact that he was their leader’s only son.
Despite the cramped living situations, if I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought this was always the main camp. They even still called it Brighta. The only person who acted differently was the Fire Prince. He hadn’t been the same since we returned without Scotlind. He barely spoke to anyone.
The strangest thing was that after our fight two weeks ago, he started following me to the training rings every morning. It was our new unspoken agreement. The two of us sparred daily. Never saying a word to the other, we just fought, easily flowing into a rhythm of beating the shit out of each other.
We weren’t on good terms by any means—we just decided to use each other to help cope with how miserable we felt. We were evenly matched, and despite hating to admit it, he was good. Where I lacked in strength, I made up for in agility. The Fire Prince’s punches were more focused and powerful, although he was still nimble. He had maybe an inch on me and was a bit more broad, but the extra muscles didn’t slow him down much. Neither of us held back and neither of us saw a healer afterward.
Savannah came rushing into the dining tent after her brother. “No,” she snapped at Wells. “It’s too risky.”
“It’ll work,” her brother responded.
Tezya straightened in his seat. The bruises I’d given him earlier this morning did nothing to hinder his movements. I stood from my table, making my way toward theirs. I knew Peter was following me without having to look.
“What’s your plan?” I asked Wells, not caring if I wasn’t invited into the conversation.
