31. THIRTY

THIRTY

T he cold gravel beneath him burned his face. He groaned at the heaviness in his head and the pain in his right cheek. All he could hear was his own uneven breathing and the droplets of water colliding into small puddles of water. At least, he hoped it was water. Ron jolted upward at the unfamiliarity of the room.

"Wha—?"

His eyes were filled immediately with darkness. The air felt so sticky and clogged that he could barely breathe. His clothes and hands were covered in goo as he pushed himself to sit. He gagged.

The last memory he had was of the moment he walked out of Leilani and Davina's house.

It was her birthday. He recalled the way she was being fierce with him, he loved seeing that side of her. Mostly because it meant she felt some sort of feeling for him. Even if it was contempt and hate. It was something rather than nothing.

His heart accelerated as he remembered that he had been abducted once he stepped out of her house.

Ron fought against his pounding headache and stood upright. Rattling echoed through the dark room; his wrists ached as he pulled on the metal bonds. He was chained.

This was Raven's doing. He had no doubt.

"Hello? Can anyone hear me?" Ron's voice echoed. "Hello?"

Someone from the party would notice that he was gone. They would look for him. They would find him.

Beacon would find him, he repeated in his mind. Certainly, Beacon cared enough to go looking for him after he stomped out of the party.

Would he, though?

There was a metallic screech followed by a soft light pouring into the ominous chamber. Ron squinted as his eyes adjusted to the luminosity of the area, where a small door appeared to his left.

"Good, you're awake. The Dark Mistress feared you wouldn't wake up from all that alcohol you consumed. Here, take this. She sent this for you," a deep voice said.

Bread and a cup of water were neatly set over an iron platter. Ron glimpsed gray fingers and black fingernails push his plate deeper into the dark room, he grimaced.

"It'll help with the headache."

Ron kneeled, stretching for the plate. The chain tightened around his right wrist as he reached for the platter of food. While he pulled the plate closer to him, the Predator closed the small door and darkness consumed his vision again.

They would come for him. Beacon would come. He tried to convince himself as he bit into the bread, careful not to eat too much, he didn't know when he would eat again.

Perhaps he could force his lightning to appear, and he'd be able to escape from his prison once and for all.

Ron pulled his hand before him, praying to Magnar that his power would manifest itself at last. He groaned in frustration. He tried and tried to call for the electricity that ran through his veins since he felt it sparkling across his entire body. Yet it wouldn't come forth. He groaned in frustration.

For the rest of the day, he remained in the darkness of his cell. With the fury of being the most impotent Island Protector as his companion.

A day passed and no more bread came in. Just another cup of water. Which he barely sipped from after he had downed the last cup the day before. He hadn't heard any voices or any sort of commotion outside, which meant that Beacon didn't find him. All he could do was sit and wait.

However, as he waited, his thoughts ran wild. He didn't know how much longer he could stay sane in the tenebrosity. He could no longer hear the winds of Mistral or the flap of wings of the birds from Basalt. He couldn't even hear the crackling of ice or fire. All that accompanied him was the darkness and the rattling of his chains.

He wished he could at least conjure a spark of lightning to bring some light into the room, but it never came. He was beginning to lose hope that Beacon would come to find him. He was to die of starvation and thirst. And if not that, his depression would kill him much sooner.

Nonetheless, the thoughts that tortured him the most were related to Davina. He would never be able to smell the hibiscus in her curly hair. He would never again be able to touch her warm beige skin. He would never have the privilege of seeing her smile at him. She was going to marry Isaiah and he would become a distant memory locked in the back of her mind.

If she was to marry someone else, if he was to let her be happy with another man, he needed to see her one more time. Even if she scowled at him. Even if she pushed him away.

He just needed to see her.

On the third day, Ron was angry.

The sadness had passed, and the rage at the injustice he was living settled deep within him.

How could the mighty King Magnar ever allow this to happen? He was denied the power of controlling the air element, causing him to feel like an outcast his entire life. Then he was given the ability of lightning only for it to be just as futile. Why did Magnar do this to him?

He wished to throw it all away, to stop trying to abide by what was good. It brought him nothing but pain. He slammed his fist into the gravel floor.

"I know you can hear me," he began. "Why did you give me these abilities if I won't be able to use them? Why did you isolate me from my family? Why have I been the freak? Why? Everyone says you're a good King. That you're some kind of father to your creation. Yet here I am. Hopeless and helpless. And heartbroken. Why have you allowed for my life to be like this? Will this be my end?"

Silence.

"I promise by everything I have ever believed in. I will become the worst Predator to have ever been known if you continue to ignore my pleas for help. Because that's all I've done my entire life, I've begged you to change this about me. And not once have you answered. Prove me wrong, or this will be my last call for you."

His chest tightened as he let out a shaky breath. But that wasn't what he truly wanted. Ron never desired to do evil, he wanted to be good. Just like Davina was good.

"But I don't want that. I don't want to be a Predator, I want to be a Protector. It's in my very being to protect those who cannot protect themselves and I can't deny it, even though I tried to. But how can I truly embrace this desire you have put in my soul if I cannot manifest my abilities?" The words tumbled out of him, and he couldn't make them stop. "And then the woman I love is to marry someone else and she is to head off to war soon. I have never agreed with her being Captain, and maybe that's why you haven't allowed my powers to ignite completely since I found out they were of lightning. Maybe that's why I've had to rely on my physical strength to be a Soldier in your army because I've rejected what you have accepted. Because I haven't believed in your cause steadfastly.

"But I promise you, Magnar, get me out of here and I'll protect her. I'll defend her in the front lines if need be. I'll die sheltering her and my people. I'll do whatever I have to do so she can continue being the Captain. So Bellatorm doesn't come to an end. So she can be happy and her siblings can live. I'm willing to allow you to use my life as an instrument to win this war. Because if I am to die, then I want to die an honorable death."

He laughed at the irony.

"That's exactly what she's doing."

Ron lifted his eyes.

"Use me to win the war. I'm willing to fight. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

He had to put his faith in Master Abigail's words, that Magnar accepted those with an open heart. But as he listened to the droplets of water echoing into his dark cell, he could feel the usual doubt wanting to slither back into his mind. Then his fingers began to tingle before they ignited completely with bright blue and yellow. The hum of electricity buzzed above his palms, casting a light cyan hue over his face. He laughed, tears brimming his eyelids.

"Thank you, Magnar. You will not regret this choice."

Footsteps clicked from outside of the dark room. Ron quickly curled his fingers in, putting out the electricity that blissfully danced above his hand.

Ron was able to glimpse that the smaller door was a little window connected to a much larger entryway as a dark silhouette stepped through the light that filled his cell.

He pushed himself to his feet as he met with the masked blonde-haired woman before him. It was Raven. Ron quirked up a brow at her pale porcelain skin. She wore a strapless black dress with a slit running from her midthigh to her silver heels. A red ruby diamond hung from her neck, matching her earrings.

A Predator stood by the door, blocking some of the light from the hallway. With the door open, the air seemed to unclog. Ron breathed in deeply with delight.

"Glad you're alive. I feared that my Predators hit you in the head when you were in your… past state," she hissed through her iron mask.

"What am I doing here? What do you want?" he snapped.

"No need to be so snarky. You sound just like Vivi," she sighed.

Ron rolled his eyes as she pronounced the nickname he gave her.

"How was your stay here? Welcoming? Comforting?" Raven asked.

Ron didn't answer but only blinked at what she believed to be humorous questions.

"I see that since I parted from Bellatorm all those years ago, my brothers and sisters have become so bitter," Raven exasperated.

Ron remained silent.

"I brought you here because I believe that you and I share a common goal. Among other things. You have felt outcasted and like a freak your entire life. I have been exiled from my own kingdom and have been seen as a witch, but I don't think all those rumors about me are true. Neither do I think that you are a freak or an outcast like others have."

"Get to the point, Raven."

"I have summoned you here with a proposition."

Ron could only imagine what she was planning.

"I know how much my sister has hurt you. And I know how painful it can be to be neglected by the people that you love most. It does cause a certain bitterness in your soul when you find out that the people you esteemed so much… didn't believe in you."

She paced slowly across the room.

Ron gulped. "What do you want me to do?"

"Join me and my Main Predators. But you'd be more of an undercover Main Predator."

"What?" he asked.

Raven's black eyes scanned him.

"You would be assigned to gather all the information you can get from my sister. What are her plans, her intentions, and her strategies? I fear that the contacts that I have aren't doing their job quite as I had expected," Raven said. "But I believe you'll be the perfect asset."

Ron remained silent. Contacts? Could there be a traitor among the Island Protectors? No. He knew them too well. None of them would be capable of such treason.

"I know it may seem very sudden. I'll give you a few more days to think about it."

He couldn't remain in the dark room any longer. The urgent need to find that traitor and protect Davina took over the logical part of his brain.

Ron didn't think twice when he said, "I'll do it."

Amusement was clear in her voidful gaze. She cackled. "With the look in your eyes, I thought you would say no."

The hairs on his arms stood as a shiver ran down his spine. May Magnar help him become the best actor in Bellatorm so he can pull off his scheme.

Raven stepped closer to him, examining his face. "It seems like my Predators weren't too nice to you when they brought you here. You're bruised."

Ron clenched his jaw as Raven's long fingers reached for his cheek, her nails caressing the right side of his face. "A pretty face like yours shouldn't be bruised."

He shivered against her touch.

"Come on, let's get you home."