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This was wrong. Everything he was saying felt painfully like an insult.
“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this,” I pointed out.
“Yet, you stay,” he purred. “Just admit it. Just admit that your love for me is as great as my love for you, and I’ll shut up.”
We’d had this conversation, what felt like a thousand times. Every time I said it, every truth that I told, only seemed to break him even further. I didn’t want to push him off the edge he was already teetering on.
“I’m not staying.” My feet stumbled over the stone as I turned quickly and headed up the stairs.
His voice called after me, an eerie song that bounced off the walls and echoed through the space, following me. “I love you, Ryker Avery, and you love me too.” The last sentence was a menacing growl, “Just say it already.”
The door slammed shut, a powerful force fueled by my frustration and powers that itched to be released. Behind me, the door and the walls shuddered. I needed to talk to someone before it all carried me away.
Suzetta had wanted me to return to see her so she could take another look at my neck. It was probably nothing, but she wanted to double-check anyway, she had said. Might as well get that trip out of the way now. She’d gladly listen to me.
Hopefully, whatever Daethian had wasn’t contagious. We didn’t know anything about what was happening to him, and that was almost as terrifying as the words that kept coming out of his mouth. Not to mention the violence.
I made my way through the halls, waving in passing as Nymphs went on with their day, unaware of Daethian in the dungeons below them. Injuries had healed and the rate at which people were hurt had slowed. No noise was carrying from the infirmary, which was quite slow compared to the days after we first took the castle over.
My gaze washed over the empty beds and the crisp clean walls. Suzetta wanted a sterile room and she kept it that way. But I didn’t see Suzetta now. No, instead long blonde hair and violet eyes blinked up at me. Shavarra lifted her nose from the book she read, curled up on an empty cot.
“I’m looking for Suzetta,” I mumbled.
Shavarra was Dace’s best friend and if she was anything like my best friend…well, the thought of her harboring any feelings for Dace made me want to vomit.
“You must be Miss Ryker Avery, I’m assuming.” She closed her book with a smile. “I’m Shavarra.”
“Dace has told me lots about you.” I tried to smile back.
“Only good things I hope.” She stood. “Suzetta stepped out for something to eat. I could help you, though.”
“Oh, she just wanted to take a look at my neck. It’s probably nothing.” I ran my fingers over my throat as I turned back to her.
“I’m sure if she wanted you to come back, it's probably not nothing. Here.” Shavarra patted the bed next to her.
Quietly, I joined her, sinking into the thin mattress, watching her with intense curiosity. They were lovers, her and Dace. The thought rose, along with bile inside my throat, an angry, jealous feeling along with it.
So don’t think about it, Ryker.
Her fingers were gentle, as she lifted my chin and felt along my neck. “Can you tell me how this happened?”
“Daethian did it, but it wasn’t him, not really. Or maybe it kind of was…” I sounded ridiculous, even to myself.
“And Daethian is…your friend?”
Staring straight ahead, I wondered if she asked the question for context or if she was wishing I was interested in someone other than Dace. The sentiment wasn’t very clear. Either way, I answered.
“Just a friend, yes.”
“Why would he do this to you?” She pressed her fingers along my windpipe. The pressure was uncomfortable but surprisingly painless.
“Some sort of dark magic, Suzetta thinks. His eyes turn black, and this ugly, stringy fog crawls off his skin. Then he starts sputtering about how much he loves me, but he also hates me, how much he wants me, but he also wants to kill me. I talked to him this morning. He implied that his actions, though cruel in nature, grew from thoughts that he was already having when he wasn’t in this state. Watching it makes me feel like I’m being stabbed in the gut with a thousand long swords.”
“Black eyes, you said?” Her hand dropped back to her side with a nervous chuckle. “That sounds like a children’s story my parents used to tell me.”
“Your parents told you scary stories?” I watched her lavender eyes flick up to my face.
“It was supposed to scare us into staying in bed, and it’s based on a species that doesn’t even exist anymore.”
