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The look in her frightened eyes caused me to pause and back away from the male who dared to harm someone so young and innocent. And when I had taken a step towards the little girl to reassure her, she stepped away from me, which caused something sharp to twist inside my chest.
She was just as scared of me as the one who hurt her. That was the night I began taking my grief out on the Corrupted. To channel my anger and keep the fear out of the eyes of my people.
I promised myself to never return to who I was then. I need to be someone Emma deserves. I need to be worthy of her.
During the months she was gone, I never allowed myself to think too long or fantasize about her. Now that I know where she is and that she’s safe, I let myself have that comfort.
There have been more times than I can count when thinking of her, picturing her pleasuring herself right here in this spot, which made my cock harden in seconds. Making me fist it tightly and jerk to the image of her until I roar out another orgasm.
But today, I just want to picture her lying beside me, curled up in my arms. The way her hair looks fanned out over my pillow, our legs tangled together, and her chest rising and falling softly against mine. She would look so magical right now in that position, with how the sunlight drifts over the bed. With that painted in my head, I let my eyes fall shut, imagining her.
I can feel my breathing slow down, my body melting further into the blankets as the mate bond in my chest warms and stirs. Suddenly, my eyelids grow heavy, refusing to open, and the next thing I know, I fall asleep.
Darkness steals my sight until my surroundings come into focus. My nose burns from the heavy scent of metal and something musky, as if where I’m at has been rotting away. The single lantern dangling in the room finally becomes clear, but that’s not what steals the breath straight from my lungs.
It’s the girl beneath it, tied to wooden posts with her body slack. A shadow hovers over her body that’s slick with blood, and I find King Oren standing above her with a long whip in his hand.
My heart hammers in my chest and my throat goes dry at the sight. How am I dreaming this? How am I seeing…
Emma. Fuck. She must be sleeping, having opened her end of the bond. Screening her dreams to me and pulling me into it without knowing.
I watch in horror as he raises his hand and slashes his arm down with a flick of his wrist, causing the skin on her back to split in half with streams of crimson. Her jaw falls open, a scream tearing from her throat that bleeds into the walls.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her face, noticing how those pupils that were wide with fear have now shrunk as if she’s closing her mind to what’s happening. Allowing herself to disconnect because the look in her eyes now seems hollow. As if I’m witnessing the fight in her die, making the organ in my chest bleed right alongside her.
“Tell me, Daughter, who do you obey?” He whips her again when she doesn’t answer, forcing another piercing cry to fall from her lips. “Your screams aren’t an answer, Emma.”
Blood rushes to my head. I wish I could bring King Oren back to life just so I could kill him again, but slowly, until he bleeds the same amount of infliction he caused her.
I flinch when there’s another crack of the whip, her back bowing when it lands its strike as she pulls against her restraints. My gaze follows the trail of her blood that’s creating a river to the drain near her bare feet, the drops dripping with every ragged breath I exhale. This time, she doesn’t scream. Only silence follows. The lash of the whip ricochets louder in the room, causing King Oren to seethe at the mouth.
Suddenly, the room spirals until I’m looking at a new memory. The same disgusting room that I now know is painted with layers of Emma’s blood. But this time, she’s strapped to a table—a little older in age than the last one—and stares hard at the ceiling that is starting to peel above her. Deep cuts mark her skin as King Oren holds a knife over her, spewing nonsense to her about being seen by one of his visitors.
I take a step towards her, knowing damn well they can’t see me and that I can’t do anything. I clutch at my chest as my heart feels like someone is digging nails into it, shredding it apart. A choked sob breaks free at seeing the fucking torment she was forced to endure alone. That she suffered for so many years while fate decided to have us meet when it was too late for me to truly save her from this.
The look I’m seeing in her glazed-over eyes is something fierce. As if she locked herself away into a dark corner of her mind to hide from the pain, to block out the harsh words and blood that threaten her life. To become numb to it. But there is also something different in the look in her eyes from the last vision. Because now, she is holding a glint of that little demon I met the first time. The part of her that promises violence.
Again, I’m sucked away from the room, clenching my teeth tighter to prepare for what I might see next. The ground sways beneath my feet until everything evens out. I’m standing somewhere I don’t recognize. The air is freezing, darkness claims the sky, and specks of grey float in the air.
But then, her voice fills the eerie silence. “No last words?” The tone is almost demonic and sinister.
I slowly spin around until I see Emma standing before a Fae who is on his knees, already looking moments away from his last breath. Whiro stands and watches his daughter with his arms crossed and a wicked tip to his lips.
The frosty stillness of the air and unease that accompanies it feels similar to what seeped from the portal Fynn opened… So, this must be Gehendra, the realm where she was taken to for three excruciatingly long months. The place where I couldn’t reach her, feel her. This dark and lonely place, with no light in sight except for the bleeding moon. My mate was all alone, and that would make anyone go mad.
Everything happens so fast. Emma throws her shadows straight into the Fae’s chest until I see the moment she crushes his heart by the way his jaw falls open on a silent gasp. But I watch her. Studying her face for any emotion as she ends his life and pushes him over the ledge. Nothing registers in her eyes. No twitch of sorrow, no crease of guilt.
Yet, the way she inhales slowly is as if she relishes in the kill. High on the adrenaline from holding such power.
Clenching my jaw, I swallow roughly. Knowing these actions will slowly eat away at her now, just like my past did to me. A part of me wonders if that’s why she went to save the Corrupted the other night. To make up for the ones who are too late to save by her hands. Just how the Corrupted was a way for me to try and quiet the demons that lurked in my psyche.
I fear this darkness she was lost to took more than she was ready to give.
Before I can blink, I’m pulled into another flashback, but am still in Gehendra. Nothing will make me forget the smell of this place now that I’ve been here. It smells like burning bones, but with a dose of floral sprinkled in. And when my vision clears, I understand why. Thousands of flowers decorate the pillars that wrap around some kind of pool.
My eyes frantically dart around until I spot Emma beside another Fae male, yet this one…
My breath stalls in my lungs. Vincent. The male I saved with his mate in the woods. His one arm still the only limb missing, which makes me thankful he hasn’t gone and cut any other part of himself, and that the infection stayed clear from him. They have stayed safe. So, why is he here?
