She limped as he led her into the light.
The hall opened up into a bright, moonlit conservatory, encased entirely by glass. The roaring sound was deafening here. Darkness stretched far beyond the glass; it was night. She tried to find the moon, but it hid behind the clouds, rays struggling to break through. Sheets of rain pelted against the glass, sliding down the surface and obscuring almost everything beyond. Itmade her feel like she was standing far below the ocean, stuck in a whirlpool, spinning.
Her head lifted to stare.
"This is—mine?"
Caliban huffed lowly, drawing her attention. She could not quite understand his moods. He switched in the span of a breath. It made her feel as though she had to tread cautiously around him.
She was so tired of being hurt; she didn’t want to be hurt anymore. Maybe if she were quiet, she wouldn’t be.
"Yes," he answered plainly. "It seems your magic is stronger than I had thought it to be. No matter."
They left the conservatory, and a part of her wilted as the thundering sound of the rain receded and the faint moonlight was soon blotted out by the pressing darkness of stone, ensconcing her within its depths.
The halls opened to a large room that rippled and echoed with faint, trickling water. An ever-presentdrip drip drip.
The smell greeted her first.
She stumbled, pressing her good hand over her mouth to stifle the bile that rose.
The decaying stench of bodies. Iron blood. And something else—something starker.
Phosphorous and metallic. Like minerals.
The air was heavy with humidity and biting with chill. It seemed the stone walls didn’t allow for any warmth to last long within the grand room.
Lights shone, glittering faintly with threads of blue and white. Clinging to the walls and tucked deep within the stone.
The room had the appearance of a large cavern, blended with regal touches. Arches above, cut from the marbled stone. Pillars with emblems of the moon and its phases carved into the sides.
And hundreds of bodies, converging right in the midst of it all.
They were all silent and all staring at her.
Luella’s wings shuddered, as if to retreat within herself.
Caliban’s hand traveled up to the back of her neck, holding her captive. He stalled at the precipice of the room. There were too many in attendance to see much beyond the press of the bodies.
An evil smile touched his lips. He was silent as he dragged her into the room, and the bodies parted like water against the wave of his hand.
She saw shadowed eyes as she passed. She didn’t hold their eyes long, unable to bear it, ripping her attention away. She stared at the high, domed ceiling, the arches dripping with green vines and glittering dots of light.
The stone was slippery with water beneath her bare feet. She looked down at the feel of it under her toes and against her heels—and found the water tinged with pink.Blood.
Her feet itched with the desire to scrub them clean.
She felt so exposed in her gown. Her nipples brushed against the rough fabric. She knew they all could see.
At the side of the room, a thin pool was set into the floor, thick red blood lapping against the stone. Steps led out of the cover of blood, straight up into a large arch carved into the base of a stone wall, and set within: a grand white throne. A white moon crest gleamed above it, jutting out of the stone wall.
A smaller throne was by its side. She was distantly aware that was where her true mother and father had sat—before.
Caliban shoved her roughly to the ground. Her feet slipped, ankle twisting. She caught herself on reflex with both hands, her weight slamming into her ruined wrist. She screamed.
The crowd rippled with laughter.
Her white hair hung in her face as she looked up, watching as Caliban stood before the large throne.
