AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“We could make out?” I offered, deadpan.
“Seriously? Is this what being friends with you would be like?” Red leaned away from me, scowling.
“Is it too soon to try?” My back begged for me to lay on the bed but unless I pushed Red out of the way completely, I didn’t have enough chain to lay all the way back. With my free hand, I rubbed my wrist. “I really don’t think I can be your friend, Red.”
She took a couple of moments, sitting in the afternoon sun before she responded. “I wish things were different. Or that we met under different circumstances.”
“Me too.” I nodded.
The anger, the sadness, it all faded away now, the tension broken by her teasing games and her stubbornness. Even this moment, sitting here together, I wished it would go on forever. Once she walked out of the room, we wouldn’t be anything to each other anymore. Nothing but a past regret and a flame that never caught.
“I’m truly sorry, Milo.” She stood, making her way to the door. Her hand brushed the knob and she looked back at me.
I took the time to memorize the shape of her large nose and the crooked arch it had, the way her eyelashes curled over her gray eyes that seemed too small for her face, and even her ears that were crooked and stuck out a little bit too far from her head. She was an unconventional beauty and I loved it.
“Goodbye.” She gave me one last smile.
My heart skipped another beat and I cursed to myself as I blinked and missed the last seconds as she disappeared behind the door. I should forget about her now. Find some sort of rebound to get my mind off it. Whores helped the first time around, but the thought didn’t sound as pleasing as it had when Eydis broke my heart. Maybe I was meant to be sad and alone forever. Maybe my heart was too damaged to give.
Chapter23
Ryker
Iremember the path I’d taken only once before, my body moving swiftly through the halls of Dace’s castle. There wasn’t time for me to make sure someone wasn’t following me or snooping in my business. There wasn’t room to care to put in that effort in my worn emotional state. I didn’t marvel at the art or the incredibly intricate and delicate moldings on the walls. My mind raced with one thought, and one thought only. Get Daethian back.
Careening through the door, I avoided Jesseline as she immediately pulled a weapon from her belt. When she registered who it was she, tucked it back away. “Why are you covered in blood?”
I didn’t have the words to explain to her; my only strength was the hope that I could do this one thing for my friend. My legs crumpled underneath me, sending me sprawling to my knees before the Burgundy Witch. Before, I wouldn’t have bowed for anyone unless it meant freedom for my race. Desperation changed me. King Ganglin’s head smacked against the ground. Even my arms felt too weak to take it back in my grasp.
“By the gods, is that King Ganglin’s head?” Jesseline hummed with disgust.
“Please.” I held up my blood-covered hands.
The witch's soulless eyes grew wide, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in. Her chains rattled as she leaned forward, looking down at the head I had brought. The black veins that ran through her skin throbbed.
“Please,” I repeated, my voice small and afraid. “Bring him back.”
“Even my magic can’t bring the dead back to life.” The uneven harmonies of her voice sounded like what I’d imagined howling ghosts sounded like.
“Bring him back!” I said, more sternly this time. I lifted my gaze, staring her down.
“Do you not listen? I can’t bring anybody back. If he is gone, he is gone for good.”
Jesseline stilled behind us. What she took from this conversation, what thoughts ran through her head, whatever assumptions she was making, they probably weren’t very good. I had little doubt that she was immune to the rage that poured off me in waves.
Everything peaked inside of me, the body-crumpling sadness, the red-hot anger, and the gut-twisting frustration all bubbled out of me. Both my hands snapped up in front of me, vines that were growing on the other side of the castle burst through the tiniest cracks I had found in the wall, tangling the witch up like a fly caught in a spider web. I screamed, pushing all my anger into the tightening vines.
The witch remained still, looking down at her new bindings with a frown. “How were you able to break my spell and get your magic back?”
I hesitated. I’d come here in anger and in sorrow and she hadn’t given me the answer I’d wanted. She’d surprised me with a new nugget of information. I lowered my hands, the vines still holding up, but the intricate weaving had stopped.
“What did you just say?”
“I’m curious how you’ve regained your powers. Have more Nymphs done the same?” Her voice was steady, unworried by her current situation. Perhaps she’d really come to wish for her own death.
“Someone in the Acture Court found a remedy that brings them back.”
“A loophole?” She raised her eyebrows, a knowing smile already on her lips.
