Chapter 17

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

The hallway is eerily quiet.Devoid of sentries. Only Ilona waits, twisting her hands nervously, emerald eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Her sorrow-filled thoughts grab hold of me immediately. I battle to keep them away, deflating when I fail. The reprieve I found in Dash’s silence is lost.

Something is definitely going on.

She looks terrible. Pale. Nervous. What did Enira do to her?

Dashiel calmed her down. Oh thank the goddess.

I groan at the endless stream of thoughts leaking out from her and slap my hands over my ears as if it will help block the noise.

“I was so worried about you, Astrid.” Ilona’s voice and thoughts blend together, and it’s almost impossible to tell which words she’s spoken aloud.

She places a hand on my shoulder, trying to focus my attention.

“Not now!” I shake her off. Hurt flashes across her face. “Please, Ilona. Just go!”

She’s my best friend, my sister, and I truly love her, but I can’t handle the unfiltered access to her mind right now. I’m used to her ramblings, but this is another level. Dash and I don’t have much time; we need to free the Vannyks. I won’t be able to focus with her around.

“Give her time, Ilona,” Dash says. He pats her arm somberly. “Astrid will explain everything eventually, but right now she’s struggling.”

She backs up hesitantly, giving him a soft nod. Rejection mars her sweet face. It’s gut-wrenching. But instead of being grateful Dash influenced her to back off, I’m annoyed.

He has no right making promises to my friend about what I will or won’t tell her, and Ilona should trust me. She needs to stay out of it for now.

A moment later, when Ilona’s appreciation of Dash’s kindness filters into my mind, the anger, frustration, and annoyance burn inside of me. Then a prickle of jealousy creeps up.

“This isn’t me,” I mumble. I’m not an envious person. I’m normally rational, controlled. But I’m at the mercy of my unruly emotions.

Ilona pauses, giving me a questioning look. Dash whispers to her, “She can’t control either of our powers right now. It’s hurting her to be around you.”

I storm off down the corridor without sparing either of them another glance.

“Wait!” Dash calls. His boots slap against the marble as he catches up to me. “I know you’re overwhelmed right now with every—”

“You know nothing about how I’m feeling, Dash.” He was only being kind to Ilona and patient with me. I have no right to direct any animosity toward him, but I can’t help it. “You didn’t even tell me how to turn off their thoughts!”

“You have to shut them out yourself. Focus, like you do with your other powers.”

“This is all your fault for giving me powers I didn’t want.”

My words stop him in his tracks. From behind me, he says, “Enira was going to turn on you next, Astrid. She already controlled you when it benefited her, but she was going to erase your free will permanently.” Pausing, I turn to look at him. His face is filled with regret, and I know he’s telling the truth. “Despite how powerful a myndox she is, I can still hear her thoughts. Her plans. By the parlor, when she saw your short hair for the first time, thoughts of controlling you permanently crossed her mind. You pissed her off with that little rebellious act. And again when you were late for breakfast that one morning.”

Rubbing the tension out of my temples, I sigh. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve left.”

“You can’t leave. Your people need you.”

“That’s not your decision to make!” The inferno inside me burns hotter.

I am angry.

So angry.

Sick of people controlling me. Of making decisions for me.

Dash and his family saved me from Mother’s control, but for what? To put me on the throne instead? To turn me into their puppet? How is that any different from what my mother has done to me?

I can’t even stand to be around Ilona, the one true friend I have.

“No! This isn’t how I feel! It’s not me!” I scream. Dash rushes over to me, his brows drawn.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I stop him with a shake of my head and a raised hand. “Please, Dash. Let’s just get your family out. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I can’t. I-I’m out of control.” It’s hard to admit, but luckily a small sliver of logic tethers me to reality. It prevents me from lashing out entirely.

He frowns, and I’m not sure if it’s directed toward me or himself. I don’t care.

We exit the palace without another exchange, crossing through the courtyard.

“What’s the plan?” I ask when we reach the servants’ door.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” He grins, and any other time I’d think it’s cute, but I’m so far beyond annoyed that I stomp my foot like a petulant child.

“Dammit, Dash! Give me some instructions here.”

“Let’s hope your slimy commander friend is around to get us into the pit. Once we’re beyond the pit doors, our powers will be rendered useless by silenxstone.” He points to the daggers strapped to his waist—two at each side. “I’m proficient with combat and can take out the guards that will be down by the cells.”

“Even if Jamell is in the training room—and that’s not a guarantee—how are we going to get him to open the pit for us?”

“You’re the princess. Tell him your mother needs you to check on the Vannyks.”

“For an intelligent man, you grossly overestimate my reach.”

“The guards don’t know you’re the vessel. They still view you as their princess. Use that power.”

Unease boils inside of me. This plan is sounding worse by the minute. “Did you forget the training rooms are directly above the one entrance to the pit? You know, the place where all the guards train?”

“This is why you need Jamell to get us in discreetly, so we don’t raise any alarms. If he leads us in, no one will question it. Once we exit the silenxstone with my family, we’ll have the advantage. Zale and my parents are efficiently trained in combat. They also have the benefit of casting their own myndox powers to eliminate your mother’s hold on any of the nearby Stellari guards. That will raise our numbers.”

I’m a nervous ball of energy as I bounce on my feet. Much of my rage has dissipated, but trepidation takes its place.

“You have your blade?” he asks. “Just in case?”

My fingers trace the hilt of the dagger inside my waistband.

“Yes.”

My body trembles with anticipation as the severity of the situation dawns on me.

“Hey, hey. Breathe,” Dash says, noticing my state. He draws me to his chest for a hug. I inhale his woodsy scent as I melt into his arms.

Fuck my broken power and these extreme emotions.

I squeeze him tighter. Despite my unpredictability, he’s phenomenally patient and able to gauge when I need him to back off and when I need him to get closer.

I hope that whatever is going on with me gets resolved soon and that it doesn’t push him away. Whatever is happening between us is only getting started. We’re finally building trust after weeks of ups and downs. Not to mention, the sex was phenomenal.

Breaking the embrace, I smirk up at him.

He chuckles. “Feeling better?”

“For now.” Maybe if I think about how good he is in bed, it’ll help get me through this chaos.

“I aim to please, sweetheart,” he says.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” I ask. He nods, and I groan, rubbing my forehead in embarrassment.“I’m having a difficult time here; don’t hold it against me.”

“I would never. But I can definitely hold something else against you after we’re done here.” He winks, and I roll my eyes at the lame joke.

“All right. Let’s just get this over with.” I wonder what the Vannyks plan to do with my mother when they have her in hand. The Vannyks don’t seem cruel, the kind to murder someone in cold blood, and even if they were, they couldn’t kill Mother outright. They would forfeit their own throne, if what I’ve been told about the goddess’s laws is true.

If they’re not planning to take her life, then what do they aim to do with her?

As much as I want Mother stopped, it comforts me to know the Vannyks will almost certainly allow her to live. I don’t want her dead. At least, I didn’t at first—not until she threatened Ilona. Even now, despite her threats, I don’t truly want her to die. She is my mother, as hard as that is to believe sometimes. Maybe she can be saved. Perhaps I can drain her of enough life force to weaken her power so she’s unable to cause any real havoc.

I’ll have to figure out a way to use my power on her, to get past the barrier she somehow has in place.

It’s hard to say for sure what I want.

I’ll save that contemplation for later, when it’s relevant. Once we safely get Dash’s family out of the pit, together we can assess what to do about Mother.

Dash and I silently enter the servants wing and descend the stairs into the training rooms. Only a few guards are milling around. Jamell is near the center of the room, talking to a tall woman with a thick braid of wheat-blonde hair.

“Ay, Princess. I haven’t seen ya round,” he calls to me, shooting me a toothy grin before waving the woman away.

The blonde woman’s thoughts strike me as she walks by without a passing glance.

So this is the princess. Shame.

I grit my teeth, trying not to dwell on whatever the hell she means. Jamell’s thoughts hit me next, mixed with a few other stray voices, and luckily they are mostly of the observational variety, making them slightly more bearable than Ilona’s were.

Jamell internally notes my uptight body language. Dash’s daggers catch his eye next, and his thoughts alert me that the weapons aren’t standard issue.

Fucking Dash.

He had better not blow this. We need Jamell to open that door for us.

I stride up to Jamell and ask if Dash and I can talk to him in private. He narrows his eyes as if he suspects we’re up to something but leads us to the back combat room anyway, holding the door open for me.

Suddenly, amidst Jamell’s silent observations, an unwelcome thought from him flits through my mind.

It’s been too long since I’ve seen the princess’s delicious curves.I wonder what would feel better—havin’ her underneath me, or havin’ my hands ’round her throat. Maybe both—

“Stop!” I yell, and both men pause. Panic rushes through my veins.

How could he?

I thought Jamell was a friend. His betrayal slices me.

Dash was right when he told me not to trust Jamell. Not only is Jamell Mother’s trusty pawn, he’s a predator. A creep. And, based on his thoughts, a sadist. How did I not see it sooner?

I’ve been so desperate for the affection of a parental figure that I was willing to accept anything without questioning. I genuinely thought Jamell cared for me. But it was nothing more than an illusion.

His thoughts make me feel dirty, like I need to crawl out of my own skin in order to get clean again.

“Sorry I haven’t been around for training,” I say. I’ve been quietly stewing for too long. Surely the commander can tell I’m on edge. Thinking up something quickly, I add, “Mother’s required my help around the palace.”

Jamell laughs, but it comes off rough, forced. “Oh I know how much ya despise ya duties. I’m surprised I haven’t seen more of ya around just to work that burden off.”

His eyes narrow into slits as he watches me.

“I can really give ya something to work it off, if ya spread those pretty little thighs for me. Heard ya nothin’ but a whore like—”

There’s a loud crack as Dash’s fist connects with the commander’s nose.

Blood spurts out, and Jamell’s hand flies up to assess the damage while the other reaches for the blade at his side. Before he can unsheath it, Dash is behind him, a dagger at his throat.

Jerking his head back, Jamell tries to crack Dash in the face with his skull, but Dash anticipates the movement and dodges it. This allows Jamell to get free, but only for a second. Ducking under Jamell’s swinging arm, Dash captures him in a headlock before placing the dagger back at his throat.

“What the hell, Dash!” My mouth drops open in disbelief. “This is not what we agreed on!”

“Sorry, sweetheart. No woman deserves to be called a whore. Especially not you. It pissed me off.” He shrugs nonchalantly, as if he doesn’t have a blade to a Hakranian commander’s throat. Jamell’s face begins turning colors as he tries to pry himself free of Dash’s chokehold. Dash eases up enough to allow oxygen back into Jamell’s lungs. The commander sputters, gasping for air, but Dash continues pressing the blade to the bulging vein in his neck.

“Unbelievable.” I shake my head angrily. “You were right about Mother’s army. Look how pathetic he is.”

“What if I’m just an incredible warrior?” Dash asks with a raised brow.

“Yeah, you’re incredible all right. Incredibly arrogant.” I roll my eyes before turning my sights on Jamell. He narrows his gaze at me. His unwelcome lust from earlier is gone, replaced with a potent mixture of panic and hatred.

“I bet ya’d scream for ya ma just like that little kitchen bitch did when I had her face down on the counter as I plowed into her from behind.”

The fury I’ve been trying to keep leashed bursts free, but this time, I do nothing to try and stop it.

Dash shoots me a warning look as if he senses what I’m about to do. But unless he frees his hold on Jamell, he won’t be able to stop me.

Good.

I don’t want him to.

“You are a despicable, dishonorable waste of flesh!” I screech.

I reach for Jamell’s knife and, in one quick move, plunge it into his crotch. His leathers are thick and resist my blow at first, but adrenaline fuels me as I use all my strength to press the blade through, piercing his flesh. I’m glad he’s not wearing a protective cup.

His screams are glorious. I thank the goddess for the soundproof walls.

The blade punctures exactly where I wanted.

“That’s for the poor girl you dared put your grimy hands on!” I don’t know which girl he was thinking of, but with a predator like Jamell, there were probably multiple victims. I wish I could find whoever he hurt and reassure them that Jamell will never touch them again.

I pull the blade free, dripping blood onto the training mat, and plunge it straight into his heart. Not even his thick leathers can save him from my fury.

“And that’s for fooling me all these years!” There’s a crunch, followed by a squelch, as I push the blade deeper. Crimson liquid leaks out of both of his wounds. His mouth drops open in shock as his legs give out. Dash moves back, releasing the commander and letting him topple to the floor. Jamell gurgles on the blood dribbling from the corners of his mouth. A few moments later, after a final, wet breath, he falls silent.

Dash strokes his tense jaw. He wipes a fleck of blood off his shoulder and says, “What the hell did you do that for?”

“You’re kidding, right?” I ask. Outrage continues to swirl inside of me, but guilt isn’t anywhere to be found. I thought this man was my friend, but he’s nothing more than a predator. “Did you not hear what he was thinking?”

“I blocked him out after he called the woman I care about a whore.” Dash nudges Jamell’s body with his toe, as if to ensure he’s dead. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“You’ve already been there. You’re just lucky it was before I completely lost control of my emotions.” I decide against telling Dash what I heard in Jamell’s final thoughts; he’s already dead, and clearly we both know the man he really was.

“As much as I love this newfound confidence and acceptance of your unpredictable…power surges, we’ll call them, we really need to get you fixed.”

“Whatever,” I say, tossing Jamell’s bloodied blade beside his corpse. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?” He scratches his head as if he seriously has no idea what I’m talking about.

“For keeping your hands clean. Now you don’t have to take care of him.”

“I wasn’t going to kill him! I prefer not to murder people.”

The words strike a chord in me. Suddenly, I don’t like the way he’s looking at me—with judgment in his eyes.

What must he truly think of me? I’ve killed hundreds during my time as the vessel, and today I’ve murdered three people of my own accord. I wasn’t under Mother’s control.

My stomach churns, and I look away, crossing to the window that gives a view into the main space.

Our skirmish took place in the corner of the room, out of sight from the few lingering guards, so no one witnessed me murdering Jamell. That’s a relief. It buys us time to figure out our next step.

I glance back over at Dash, irked to see the judgmental expression still plastered on his face. “Sorry to disappoint you with my murderous tendencies, oh great Dashiel Dargan. Not everyone’s as perfect as you!” Annoyance flares back to life inside of me, threatening to consume Dash.

“I’m not perfect simply because I don’t enjoy killing people,” he says. “I prefer to keep my body count low, that’s all. There are normally other ways of dealing with problems.”

“You think I enjoyed that? Oh wait—I’m nothing more than a slaughterer in your eyes. I didn’t forget what you called me at the falls.”

“Astrid—”

“No!” The monster inside me roars back to life as I snatch Jamell’s knife from the ground, charging toward Dash. He at least has the decency to look worried as he takes a step back. He didn’t have a single ounce of concern when subduing Jamell, Hakran’s best, yet somehow I am the one who brings fear to his face. It’s oddly satisfying.

“Don’t do this,” he says.

“You fear me.” I battle my anger, trying to prevent it from overtaking me.

“No, sweetheart, never. I just don’t want to hurt you.” His eyes flick to the blade, then back to my face. The way he stares at me, with such intensity even as I threaten him, does something to untangle the mess inside of me.

Lowering the weapon, I nod in understanding.

“I meant it when I said you aren’t alone,” he whispers.

I bite my lip and look away. Now is definitely not the time for these sentiments. Especially not when they’ll invoke a stream of hysterical tears. I blink rapidly in an attempt to keep the waterworks at bay.

“We need to get into the pit.” Ignoring Dash’s concerned expression, I stride over to the door and pop my head out. I clear my throat and call to the guards, “Clear the training spaces.”

Everyone pauses, and a few guards gaze at me with bewilderment. Their bafflement and hesitations swarm my mind.

“Now!” I bellow. “As your princess, I order you to leave!” Surprisingly, they oblige and begin to jog up the stairs. The woman with the braid glances my way as she ascends, scrutinizing me.

I wait until everyone is out of sight before turning back to Dash.

“You were right,” I say. “I guess I do have a little bit of power in my title.”

His mouth twitches. “If only everything went that smoothly. Now how are we going to get into the pit?” He analyzes Jamell’s corpse. Blood pools around the body, soaking into the training mats. The air is sharp and metallic with the scent of murder.

“Easy,” I say.

Crouching next to Jamell’s lifeless body, I snatch his knife back up and begin hacking away at one of his hands. Unlike my dagger, this blade is sharp enough that with a little bit of pressure and some sawing, I can slice through the bone. A crack fills the silence as I finish slicing Jamell’s hand from the wrist.

“I might’ve lied earlier,” Dash says, as he stares at me in astonishment. “I think I do fear you.”

My lips lift in smug satisfaction. I raise Jamell’s severed hand off the ground and wave it at Dash. “Let’s go get your family.”