Chapter 25

Senka

Emrore convulsed, a ragged cough tearing from his throat, splattering crimson across the tattered blankets. His body bucked on the cot as if trying to escape an invisible vice, and the sound of his agony reverberated off the cave walls, echoing like a death knell in the hollow space.

I surged to my feet by the fire, dread clawing at my insides with icy talons. My heart thrummed painfully against my ribcage as I rushed towards my friend. The shadows within me writhed in response, sensing the nearness of his death.

The tendrils of darkness that coursed through my veins pulsed eagerly, stretching and twisting beneath my skin like serpents ready to strike.

They ached to break free, to unleash their lethal dance upon whatever disgusting curse had claimed Emrore"s body.

But I knew better than to let them slip their bonds. Not here. Not now. Not with so many eyes one me. Hadeon and Andros had no idea who and what I was.

Would Bazaan's promise hold up if members of the Tonne knew?

My hand hovered over his convulsing form, trembling; the shadows begged for release, yearned to consume the sickness that wracked him. To touch him would be to invite their wrath on his already fragile state, but something inside me screamed to just touch him. It demanded I place my hands on his skin. My shadows beckoned, they called to him so fiercely that I couldn't resist.

Before my fingertips could graze the sweat-slicked skin of his brow, a vice-like grip ensnared my waist, hauling me back against a wall of muscle. His somehow already familiar scent of lilac and earth washed over me.

Prince Baz"s hold was unyielding, his body the only barrier between me and the friend who writhed in agony only paces away.

"Don't be reckless, Senka." Baz"s voice was a low growl, rumbling against the shell of my ear. "You can't do anything for him yet. You'll die if you so much as touch him."

"Then why bring me here at all!" I shouted as I fought his hold. "You said I could help! You said I could…"

"Senka, stop," Cross's command cut me off. "Listen to Bazaan. He's right. We need to think about this before we do something rash."

I struggled within his ironclad embrace, but it was like fighting the pull of the tides. His chest pressed into my back, his breath hot on my neck as he whispered, "Red Sam devours from the inside out. You get too close, and you might as well damn us all."

Around us, the tension was strung tight enough to snap. Wolfe"s growl rumbled through the cavern, a primal sound that spoke of barely restrained fury.

Cross stood silently, his pale eyes glinting like ice, an unreadable statue save for the coiled readiness of his stance.

They were predators held at bay, circling Baz and I, as if they were about to leap at us and rip him off of me at any moment, even despite Cross's warning to me.

"Stand down," Hadeon warned, his deep voice cutting through the standoff. Andros mirrored his movement, stepping up to flank him; their loyalty to Baz was as solid as the steel they were ready to draw. The twin blades at their backs glinted in the firelight. It was about to be a bloodbath in this cave.

Wolfe"s jaw ticked, a visible sign of his carefully leashed rage as he locked eyes with the prince. Cross, ever the enigma, remained silent, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.

"Let her go, Bazaan," Wolfe"s said, his voice a command that left no room for argument. But Baz was a prince. Wolfe was skirting treason speaking to him like that.

It was enough to snap me out of my trance-like state.

"Enough!" I snapped, the word echoing off the stone walls. "Let me handle this. This is your fucking prince." I screamed with my eyes, hoping they understood everything I wasn't saying. A lot more was at stake here than just our lives.

Baz"s fingers flexed around my waist before slowly releasing their hold, allowing me space while still keeping me shielded from Emore. He was a wall of solid muscle and steel, and the part of me that wanted to cut him down and go to Emore wasn't strong enough against the part of me that knew he was right.

"Listen to me," Baz said, his voice softer now but no less commanding, "If you value your life and those of your companions, you will stop, and you will fucking listen. "

With a swift pivot, I twisted within Baz"s loosening grip, my face inches from his, the heat of his body simmering between us.

"How do you know him?" he demanded before I could say a word. His sunset eyes were narrowed on my face.

I scrambled for an excuse. For some lie I could tell him that would be believable. Cross was one thing, but Emore was too much of a coincidence. Baz wasn't a stupid man. He'd likely see right through me.

"He was a ward of my household since childhood." The lie left a bitter taste on my tongue, each one necessary to protect Cross and Wolfe from exposure.

If the Tonne knew that the underlord of Andune and his associates stood in this room, so utterly vulnerable, this entire thing would be done and over, and the three of us would hang.

Baz"s eyes narrowed, flickering with suspicion. "You"re lying," he accused softly. "Your companions—both of them—look at you with something bordering on possession." His gaze shifted momentarily to where Wolfe and Cross stood, silent sentinels whose loyalties were clear on their faces for those who knew how to read them.

"Why does it matter to you who warms my bed?" I spat, not even bothering to lie my way out of his observation. I wouldn't insult him by denying it.

His lips curled into a half-smirk. "You're here to become my wife, remember?" He leaned closer, his breath a whisper against my skin, the space between our lips charged. "Why shouldn"t I care?"

A hollow laugh escaped me, devoid of humor. "We both know you"d never choose me—not now that you know my secret."

For a moment, Baz hesitated. His fingers tightened, pulling me flush against him, the hard planes of his body a cage I wasn"t sure I wanted to escape. His eyes searched mine, those dark brows dipping over them as if he were fighting some internal battle against his better judgement.

Leaning down, his lips brushed the shell of my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "You presume to know me, but you understand nothing about the things that I fucking crave," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "Don"t make assumptions about what I would or wouldn"t do with you."

The warm touch of Baz"s fingers against my cheek was an unwelcome comfort, sweeping a stray lock of hair from my skin with a tenderness that didn"t match the iron grip he still had on my waist. "Ever since that day aboard the ship, I"ve wondered what became of you. It seems the fates—or perhaps the gods themselves—are intent on weaving our paths together." His eyes glinted with a challenging light. "Would it be reckless to ignore such a clear sign?"

I swallowed hard. "This isn"t the time to discuss what the gods do or do not want with us. I've lived my entire life under their thumb, and I've always done what was expected of me, but right now, my friend is suffering."

At my words, Baz"s hand fell away, and he stepped back, releasing me from his hold. I held his stare, my entire body coiled and ready to strike if I had to.

"And what do you plan to do for him? You can't even touch him without risking your own life."

"Can"t we send for a healer?" Wolfe interjected, his voice a strained growl. "Valera, our lady"s maid, is a healer. Her blessing is stronger than any healer I've ever met. She could be here within hours if we send a rider for her."

Baz shook his head, a grim set to his mouth. "Red Sam is too strong. It ravages the body too quickly, too violently. All the healers in Elysian were nothing against it three hundred years ago, and I doubt that's changed. You'll only put your maid in danger."

I turned on my heel and stared at Emore as he convulsed on the cot, the shadows inside me stirring restlessly. There was no time for hesitation, no room for fear. Whatever needed to be done, I would do it—even if it meant succumbing to Red Sam myself.

Emrore's ragged breaths, wet and gurgling, clawed at me. He was closer and closer to death with every heartbeat that strained against his ribcage. I thought about Valera, and how she'd be devastated when I was forced to tell her what happened to the man she loved.

"I know you don't trust me," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I faced the prince again. "But I'm asking you, just this once, to try. I don't know how to explain it…"

My plea sounded foreign in my own ears, but the shadows within me pulsated, yearning for release. They were a tempest brewing beneath my skin—a tempest that promised destruction or salvation. The tugging sensation inside grew stronger, as if an invisible force was compelling me toward Emore.

"My blessing is pulling me to him. It's fucking screaming at me and I don't think I should fight it."

We stood suspended in time, two liars caught in a silent battle of wills. I needed him to let me do this. Whatever my shadows were pulling me to do had to be done now.

Then, ever so slightly, he nodded.

I turned on my heel, urgency propelling me forward, but Wolfe and Cross materialized before me, two immovable obstacles glaring down at me.

"Move," I ordered, the command leaving no room for argument. My fingers twitched once again with the need to release my shadows, but not for them. Never for them. Not if I could help it.

"It"s suicide, Senka," Wolfe growled. He was breathing hard and ragged, ready to grab me at any moment and steal me away from these caves.

"I need both of you to just trust me."

Cross"s runes etched into his skin seemingly glowing in the dark cave, making me wonder if he were on the verge of another vision. "We can"t lose you too, my shadow," he said, his voice strained and raw. "I can't lose you."

My mouth ran dry and my chest constricted. There was so much he wasn't saying but I could see it all over his face.

"The gods have led me here; they have a plan. I can feel it," I insisted, feeling the pull—inescapable, undeniable. It was a siren's call that I couldn't physically ignore. "Cross, trust me. You of all people should know that the gods do everything for a reason."

I could feel Baz watching us, my cryptic words careful not to reveal who and what we were. He knew Cross was a seer, but a seer of what? If he knew that Cross communed with the gods themselves, Cross wouldn't make it to sunrise.

With a curse that echoed off the cave walls, Cross ran a hand over his face—a gesture of frustration and surrender. He stepped aside, granting me passage. Wolfe, equally enraged, swung his fist into the wall, the sound of clay cracking under the blow nearly drowning out Emore"s labored breathing.

I didn"t look back as I approached the cot where Emore lay. With each step, the darkness within me swelled, threatening to engulf us all.

The firelight cast a dancing glow on the cave walls, throwing elongated shadows that seemed to sway with a life of their own. I stood at Emore"s side, my heart hammering against my ribs, feeling the darkness within me rise like a tide.

"Promise me," I said. My eyes rose to meet the gaze of every man in the cave, one by one. "Promise you won"t interfere. Don"t touch me. Don"t come near me until it"s over."

Their faces were etched with worry and confusion, but they remained silent.

"Promise me!" I yelled, desperation gripping me like a vice. All I needed was their promise, because once my shadows were released, it would all be out of my control.

Curt nods followed, hesitant and strained, as each man in the cave bound himself to his word. My hands shook as I placed them upon Emore"s clammy face, the dread flooding through me so potent it was almost paralyzing.

As my fingertips brushed his skin, the dam within me broke. Shadows surged forward, spilling outwards in a maelstrom of dark power.

My body was no longer mine—controlled by the very essence I had mastered since childhood. A harsh gust of breath escaped my lips as I surrendered to the shadows" will.

I could feel them—a living presence—probing into Emore"s body, searching for the sickness that gnawed at his insides like a relentless beast.

Red Sam. A name whispered in hushed tones, laced with terror for centuries. It wrapped itself around my senses, pressing down on me with an unbearable weight.

An inexplicable urge seized me. A primal instinct to pull, to extract the vile affliction from its host. My fingers tightened, the shadows answering my silent call, entwining themselves around the sickness.

I pulled, and with each tug, a piece of the illness tore away, drawn towards the darkness I wielded.

A scream pierced the silence, raw and guttural. It took a moment for me to realize that the screams were my own. My eyes snapped as shadows coiled around me, serpentine and hungry.

The men gasped, curses falling from their lips as the Tonne warriors unsheathed their blades, ready to protect their prince. But Baz, with a single, commanding gesture, stilled them. His eyes never left me.

I knew exactly what they were seeing. A monster with eyes consumed by blackness. A creature of darkness that wielded death itself. A threat to be cut down before she could consume them all.

Pain—Emore"s pain—echoed through me, a cacophony of unendurable agony. He was trapped, ensnared within himself, pleading for release, for death.

I screamed again, a sound more animal than human, as the shadows drew forth the sickness, channeling it through my body.

Blood—my blood—trickled from my eyes, my mouth, my nose, my ears. A crimson cascade that revealed the price of meddling with fate.

The shadows fed Red Sam into me, and with it, the whisper of death caressed my mind.

"Senka..."

Her voice, the death goddess Merikh, was a soft lullaby amidst the chaos, a siren"s call to the realm beyond what I could reach.

I knew then that I was dying, the specter of her presence inching closer with each heartbeat. The shadows had always been my allies and my strength, but now they ushered me towards oblivion.

"Senka..."

There it was again, that voice, gentle and inexorable, drawing me away from the world of the living.

My knees buckled, the cave floor rushing up to meet me as the men lunged forward, their promises forgotten at the sound of my choked scream.

I fell back, my gaze fixed on the stone ceiling above as darkness encroached on my vision.

"Come home to me, child,"Merikh beckoned, her voice wrapping around me like a shroud.

No, no, no…

This wasn't it.

This couldn't be it.

I wasn't ready to go yet.

In the distance, a man"s voice broke through the encroaching blackness, his plea desperate and filled with raw panic. His curses and pleas were all I could hear beyond the rushing of my own blood in my ears and the gentle laughter of Merikh beckoning me home.

Was it Cross begging for me not to leave him? Was it Wolfe screaming in a rage? Or was it Bazaan, the prince I was never supposed to trust, commanding me to fight it?

But despite their screams, the shadows swirled, the voice of the goddess filling my senses.

So I let go, surrendering to her embrace as the cave, the men, and the world I knew dissolved into nothing but caressing shadows.

Red Sam filled my body with poison until I was utterly and irrevocably consumed.