When he reached for her arm, Emmery scooted back. “No. I’m tired of you locking me away,” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “There’s no danger. Nothing to protect me from.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” The King’s eyes mirrored the starless night sky. “And we don’t have time for this.”
“If it’s so unsafe, then what are you two doing out here?” She threw the question at them like a dagger.
Destonne didn’t respond, didn’t even react to her scrutiny, his expression hidden beneath a stone-cold edifice.
With his colossal snout, Brennen nudged her to her feet. “Let’s go, princess. It’s bedtime.”
“This is ridiculous,” she hissed. “I refuse to be your prisoner.”
“Prisoner?” A laugh rumbled in Destonne’s throat, though it was anything but joyous. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
Knowing it wouldn’t get her anywhere, Emmery bit back her response. So she stalked toward Blackdawn castle with fury blazing in her veins and her fists clenched. As she stumbled over the uneven cobblestones, Brennen stayed glued to her side and herded her like unruly livestock. Any chance she got, she glared over her shoulder at the King and each time he met her stare with a flat, tired look.
She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. What other manipulations and facets of control he had planned for her.
“You’ll be relieved to hear we’re visiting Reize tomorrow,” Destonne said, his voice a knife through the silence.
Emmery’s pulse sped and a hitch of excitement coloured her voice. “Tomorrow?”
“Or rather today,” he replied in the same exhausted tone. “It’s very late.”
She tried not to dread the journey with these two, and instead focussed on the answers that might lie at the doorstep of Reize’s home. Another step closer to Shade.
After a long, tense walk, they arrived at the castle. While Destonne lingered like an absolute lunatic outside her bathing room door as she changed into her night clothes, he fastened the window with a lock she couldn’t break without her magic, then saw to it she was tucked into bed.
He sauntered to the door and paused. One hand on the doorknob, the other in his pocket, he arrogantly leaned against the frame. “Sweet dreams, angel,” he said, his voice mocking.
She silently cursed him as her cheeks burned. “This place is a cage.”
“And what a pretty cage it is.” He blinked at her, almost playfully. “Do try to keep out of trouble for a few hours. That was two strikes against you today.” A tiny twinkle of amusement danced in his eyes. “And you don’t want a third.”
The air fled Emmery’s lungs in one strangled breath. So, he’d clearly seen her hiding after their meeting, but between the humour in his voice and the mischief in his gaze as he ducked through the doorway, his threat was less than convincing. He was impossible to read: dark, brooding and terrifying one second and cracking jokes the next.
She crossed her arms and ground her teeth. The King was so—
Insufferable.It was the only word that came to mind.
Though she quietly fumed in the pitch-black room, the quilt yanked up to her neck, she did seek rest for the long journey ahead. But each time she closed her eyes and let her mind fade into dreams, screams echoed in her ears, people begged for their lives, golden flames devoured them, and she couldn't stop it. Couldn’t control it. Then when only ash remained, she clutched it in her trembling fists and wept over this world broken by her hand.
Maybe the people were right and she was the bringer of the end.
Every time the nightmares tormented her, she awoke gasping and fisted the sweaty sheets. Her grip on the fraying rope, the one that kept her from tumbling into the endless abyss, slipped inch by inch and soon she would no longer be able to hold on. Soon darkness would devour her.
And though she would spend the next day in search of Shade, the nightmares persisted, and not once did her green-eyed phantom come to save her from herself.
Dawn came too soon and Emmery’s head pounded from her ravaging hangover. At least the bottle of wine she’d downed stifled her nightmares so she could find a few hours of rest before Brennen knocked on her door. Hopefully today they would get some answers about their path to the Hollow.
They stood in front of Blackdawn Castle, hoods drawn and horse readied, but when Emmery attempted to summon Juno, and only silence answered her call, her stomach sank. She blamed those magic-blocking restraints. Where were these marks all those years she tried to suppress her magic in the mortal lands? They would have saved her a lifetime of agony and fear. Even the tiny spark of power she held across the gate could summon the spectral steed, but now her magic slept like she clutched a limb with no blood flow. Undoubtedly hers, yet numb.
“Why don’t you remove these damned restraints?” she asked. Her question lashed out like a whip as an angry flush crept up her neck. “You’ll have to remove them eventually. Why not now?”
“Because,” Destonne drawled, “you already look as if you want to kill me. I fear the fire in your eyes when they’re removed. I want to be far, far away.”
Emmery scoffed then crossed her arms over her chest. At least she’d worn appropriate riding gear, though her dark grey cloak sparked none of the joy her green one did. “Surely there’s another horse for me to take.”
“Does riding with me offend you?” The corner of the King’s mouth twitched. “Would you rather walk? I’m sure Brennen wouldn’t mind the company on foot.”