Page 88 of A Lie so Pretty and Poisonous

“Be gentle with her, Captain,” Gabriel said coolly. “Ensure your guards leave her face alone. It is too pretty to be bruised up. The rest of her is free game. Give her some time between the beatings. Humans are such fragile creatures. Especially the females.”

No. Darragh wouldn’t do this to me.

My hands fisted the back of his black tunic, and I kicked, trying in vain to loosen his tight hold on me. “Darragh, stop! He is using an enchant on you! Fight it! Use your shield!”

Darragh sighed. “Enough, Aurora. You’re going to hurt yourself. You brought this on yourself.”

My stomach dropped, and my lip quivered.

Gabriel barked out a cruel laugh and stepped up to where I was practically hanging upside down over Darragh’s shoulder. My hair fell in tangled waves around my face, and Gabriel grabbed hold of it, forcing me to look at him. “The seraph with the strongest shield in Tironaill?” He scoffed. “No, my darling. He is not under any enchant. The crossling prick has never been able to be compelled,” he sneered. “Did you think he didn’t know I had this enchant?” I let loose a sob. Gabriel put his mouth to my ear and whispered, “The best part is…tossing you in a cell to suffer for what you did to him instead of affording you the comfort of a bedroom was all his idea.”

Gabriel let go of my hair, and I flailed, beating my fists against Darragh’s solid back in a fit of shock and rage. He betrayed me. Betrayed all that I believed in him. The disgust I felt for him was immeasurable.

“Poor, Aurora. You truly believed he was about to save you, didn’t you?” Gabriel mocked with his bottom lip stuck out. “He works for me, my darling. Your damsel-in-distress act won’t work on him this time. He now sees your manipulative ways. If only you didn’t use men so readily.”

Darragh hitched my body up, securing a better grip on me, and strode purposefully back toward the castle.

“You fucking bastard! How could you? He is going to rape me and use my body to make him heirs! I trusted you! I TRUSTED YOU!” I screamed in vain throughout the courtyard and hallways of the castle. My piercing shouts echoed off the palace walls, falling into an abyss of disregard. Darragh’s stony silence destroyed me. In the end, he truly was the untrustworthy monster that seraphs claimed him to be, and I was a stupid woman for feeling safe enough to crack open my guarded heart to him.

He firmly carried me down a spiral staircase, marble turning into stone, in a part of the castle I had never been to. I slumped against his back in silence. My throat burned from the screams that had ripped through me. The tidal wave of grief and horror of what just happened consumed me.

Darragh opened a solid iron door and walked me into a room with rows of cells, some with occupants who watched me with intrigue being carried to the last one on the left, where he placed me down on a cold, stone floor. The musty smells of mold, urine, and dirt mingled together. I wanted to wretch.

Before he could turn to leave, my voice became small, and the only thing I had left to give was a last-ditch effort plea on behalf of my daughter. “I know I can’t change my fate, but please, Darr…Captain,” I said with a wavering voice. He refused to look at me. “Don’t let them hurt Cora. Have Anya watch over her. Cora loves Anya.” My voice became raspy. “Whatever you may believe about what my intentions were with you is sealed. I only ask one more thing from you.” I sprang to my knees and grabbed the sleeve of his black tunic. “Tell Cora I love her more than life itself.”

He looked at me properly for the first time, wearing his ever-stoic expression. A nod was all he gave me before striding out of the cell and locking it behind him. I barely heard the rattling of his keys over the blood rushing into my ears as the gravity of the situation cut through me like a blade.

In the dim light of my cold cell, I lay on the moldy hay and sobbed. I let my fear overtake my logic and reason, and because of it, I ended up in a cell with my daughter taken from me and placed in the hands of angheals who wanted to harm humans. I made a mess of things, and I could only hope that Anya would look out for Cora’s well-being.

My thoughts reeled about the possibilities of what was about to unfold. To be nothing more than an unwilling broodmare for a powerful seraph and locked away, never to see my daughter. Or to accept an offer of having an ounce of comfort while warming Gabriel’s bed. The fact that both would result in younglings disgusted me.

As my tears dried up and the heaviness of exhaustion consumed me, I closed my eyes and tried to think of all my favorite memories. Cora’s birth, Micah’s smile as she grasped his finger for the first time, Cora’s dimples, the first time I rode a horse, and Greta teaching me how to make tinctures.

The loop of memories played over and over until sleep dragged me down to the depths of my dreams...nightmares.

“Let me see her!” a woman’s voice yelled at the two guards stationed at the entrance of the dungeon that I had called my home for the past four days.

The only indication of passing time was the guard shift changing and two meals per day of bread, root vegetables, and water. Food that I hadn’t been able to eat, though my stomach grumbled in protest at my stubbornness.

“My lady, I am sorry, but we cannot allow anyone to see her. Commander’s orders,” a guard said apologetically.

“Ugh! Worthless!” Anya’s disgust was palpable. “Rory, Cora is alright!” She shouted. “I am staying with her in her rooms and…”

The doors to the dungeon were thrown shut with a metallic slam and cut off any more information that Anya could relay to me. She was the only angheal whom I had any trust for anymore. The information she risked sharing with me, albeit small, gave me a modicum of relief. I worried for days about what they could be doing to Cora. If Anya were with her, I knew she wouldn’t be totally harmed. Goddess, I missed her so much.

“Mighty lucky to hear about your daughter, miss,” Greyshing said from a dark corner of the neighboring cell.

I was resistant to speaking with my cellmates at first, but the loneliness of my despair broke the hesitation I had about speaking with any more seraphs. There were five of us in cells; many of them had been here for months, awaiting sentencing or death. All but me were daemonite militia members, hellbent on taking down King Torrish. A sentiment I could now sympathize with. They were put in silver shackles to suppress their enchants, the clanking of which indicated who was awake and moving in their cells and who had decided to sleep to escape, for a moment, this nightmare.

I blew out a sigh. “It was. I will take any information I can get about her. Knowing she is safe for now brings me a sliver of peace. How is your leg wound?”

Greyshing sniffed. “Infected. The guards were particularly thorough with their interrogation methods this morning. They keep using the same dirty silver blade over and over on me.”

Greyshing was leading a group of militia to set off bombs at the Temple of Themis when he and the rest of the group were caught. I had come to learn from him that the Temple was massively protected by enchants and divine power, so they were experimenting with different types of bombs imbued with enchants to try and penetrate the shielded marble building. He had been “interrogated” every day for a month, and if he didn’t get help soon, I feared the infection would claim his life. It was possible that’s precisely what they wanted. The silver dagger they kept using on him and the silver shackle that bound him made it nearly impossible for him to be able to heal himself like a seraph should be able to do.

“I wish I had my herbal kit. A good tea and salve with calendula, yarrow, and goldenseal would take care of that wound in no time.”

Greyshing darkly laughed. “I do too, miss. I wish I could say it’s the thought that counts, but, in this situation, I don’t believe thoughts are going to do much, and my prayers are going unanswered.”