Chapter 46

Having spent so many years living in a cell, being stuffed back into one doesn’t jar as it should. I’m not hit with a burst of panic. I don’t claw at the bars with hope in my heart and a wild urge for freedom wrestling beneath my ribs.

There’s no point.

All it does is expel energy I need to breathe, blink, and perform my regular bodily functions that keep me existing. It’s the only reason I survived so long all those years ago when my cell became my cold, stony hug. My shoulder to cry on, break against, lean upon.

My fucking universe.

I gave up hope and forged myself into the sort of creature that thrives in chains. Feeds on them. I traded in so much of the important stuff that I was left with this mangled version of myself by the time Rhordyn liberated me.

Not quite sad to be free. Not quite happy about it either.

That’s kind of how I feel right now—not quite happy to be stuffed in this tiny cell that smells like despair and youth with a perfect, disturbing view of the feeding arena.

Not quite sad about it either.

Because if I weren’t here, he would be alone. Or in the guts of an ocean beast.

I let my gaze drift through the bars to the cell on the opposite side of the hall. To the small person in the corner, huddled beneath a blue velvet cloak.

Sleeping.

A boy I dove into shark-infested waters to recover because—fuck it—I like the kid. Orlaith likes the kid.

We all like the kid.

I have no hope for me, but for him …

I’d punch a fucking ocean of sharks to make sure he doesn’t end up as mutilated inside and out as I am.

I rip my gaze away, spearing it to the powdery sunbeam of morning light spilling from the sky-hole—the storm having passed a couple hours ago. A storm which swelled into a heaving, restless beast that slashed at the sky, shredding the atmosphere into static ribbons.

It settled the internal wound I’ve been harboring since Zali and I received Orlaith’s sprite, even before I saw the bolt rip down from the sky—a scribble of blinding white light threaded with a black vein that side splashed off the tip of a risen sword and struck the pier into glassy smithereens. So bright, I can still see the residue of it on the backs of my lids when I squeeze them shut.

So that sunbeam pouring into the burrow … it’s a sure sign that Orlaith made it free of the angry ocean. Because if she hadn’t? The fucking sky would have fallen. And that man right there—crouched over Calah’s lifeless body in the middle of the feeding arena—would be dead.

We’d probably all be dead.

Cainon reaches forward, sweeping the long, silver hair back from the face of an elderly woman curled up in Calah’s limp embrace, her scored wrists crossed before her withered form.

Self-inflicted?

I don’t look too hard. Don’t think too hard about it either. It’s just the sort of black hole I could tumble down if I stared long enough.

My gaze drifts to Calah’s wide, unseeing eyes, and I half expect him to blink. For them to flick in my direction. For him to stand and stalk toward me reeking of disappointment.

You were my favorite, pretty boy.

How could you hurt me like that?

I thought you loved me, too.

Something tight wraps around my chest, making it hard to breathe, and I cut a gaze at the ceiling.

“They loved each other despite their differences,” Cainon grates out, his voice thick with emotion, making me want to bash my head against the wall. “He dragged her down into his burrow, thought she smelled good, then tasted her and realized she was so much more than just a pet …”

Just a pet.

Just an animal in a cage.

“He was the shackle she learned to cradle against her chest despite his … flaws. Then I came along,” Cainon says, his words echoing through the somewhat hollow burrow. “I was the flaw she couldn’t see past.”

“I don’t want your life story, dickhead. I couldn’t care less if you were shat out of a donkey’s ass. It’s been a long day, and I’m pretty keen to find the most comfortable position in this shithole and tuck down for some shut-eye.” I shuffle, repositioning myself against the wall, wincing when the motion slides the top layer of flesh off the burns on my shoulder blades. “So, if you would kindly fuck off,” I hiss through clenched teeth, “you will have my not-so-eternal gratitude.”

The thump of his boots echoes down the hall while I hone my attention on a crack in the ceiling.

“You’re awfully cocky—”

“That’s what the ladies tell me.”

“—for somebody in a cage.”

I never left the first one.

He crouches beside my cell, the smell of blood mixed with his acidic scent wafting into my personal space—something I don’t appreciate.

I don’t have much of it.

“You know, I still wonder why Jakar chose Rhordyn to be the bearer of his runes. Of the great gift of his divine power. I’m sure he regretted it when that savage immediately wiped out almost the entire race of Unseelie, then hunted what was left like dogs.”

I laugh to myself, loud and twisted. He has no idea how wrong he is …

No. Fucking. Idea.

Jakar didn’t gift Rhordyn shitexcept barbed chains.

“That some people have been led to believe Jakar slaughtered his own creations just shows what an undeserving coward Rhordyn was. God Blessed,” Cainon muses, the words a snarl of disgust. “That animal? Really? The only time I’ve ever seen him support the Shulák was when he invited two to the ball, though I’m certain he had blasphemous reasons behind it.”

I laugh some more.

Boy’s got it in for having a limp power-dick courtesy of his half-mortal heritage. There could be worse things—like watching every female in your race get hunted and slain while the males are farmed like animals.

“Real blessed, that one,” I mutter, trying to itch a spot beneath my right wrist shackle, not quite able to reach. That’s gonna be a pain. “He used to wake up every morning and thank the Gods for their great contribution to his cheerful existence.”

The silence stretches so long I could strangle myself with the length of it, and I get the sense Cainon’s not impressed with my tone. I probably shouldn’t goad him, but this dick just gives me the urge to sling shit from my cage. I figure words are the lesser evil.

Rhordyn should have put him down years ago.

I bet he’s a feral knot right about now. Poor Laith. She might’ve survived Cainon, but Rhordyn’s a different story. You don’t simply survive that man after you nudge against his grain. You weather him like a storm. You batten down the hatches and pray he doesn’t rip off your roof and tear you to shreds. And when you step outside again, the world will not be as it was before because he’s not a storm that treads lightly.

He reshapes the fucking terrain.

And she didn’t just nudge him, she stabbed him through the heart.

He’ll eat her for breakfast if she’s not careful.

Cainon pushes to his feet, clonks a key into the lock, and whips the door wide. I would get a little excited if I wasn’t shackled to the floor by a length of chain that barely allows me to scratch my ass without pulling a muscle.

The hairs on my arms lift as he crouches before me, and I tangle my fingers between each other.

“You know, I always thought you were Rhordyn’s pet,”Cainon says, and that gets my fucking attention. Not enough to look at him, but enough that I shut my mind down and listen. “That he’s been feeding you his blood and gifting you long life because he liked your taste.”

I swallow thickly, waiting … Knowing there’s a reason for this particular line of babble that makes my skin burn like I’ve just been rolled in stinging nettles.

He taps my ring with the tip of his finger, freezing the fucking blood in my veins. “That right there—Orlaith wears a necklace with a similar jewel.”

My heart drops, and I look at him for the first time since I clawed my way back to consciousness, eyes widening.

Fuck me.

His right eye is an inky orb, a burst of black capillaries webbed across the skin surrounding it.

And his left one … It’s glass—just like the scribble of thin, glassy fractures that weave across his cheek and temple and stretch into his hairline.

He’s a monstrous mix of flesh and translucent splits, some areas leaking threads of blood that drip to the floor.

Guess the side splash got him in the face. Poetic, all things considered.

I take note of the smudged remains of gray scripture painted across his naked torso—much like Rhordyn’s. Like he’s been playing dress up.

A smile weasels past my lips. “You look like shit.”

He rips off my ring.

My breath comes hard and furiously fast as my skin peels down, inch by fucking inch, until every visible bit of fragile, pearly flesh is exposed.

Every bite of shame.

Cainon doesn’t look surprised, just satisfied he was right. This sick feeling swirls in my gut with all the salt water still sloshing around.

“This makes so much more sense,” he says, cutting his stare across my scars, hovering over one high up on my throat. His gaze turns pensive—I think. Hard to tell anymore. “Rhordyn’s always had a soft spot for the lesser beings of our world.”

My heart smashes against my spine as he runs the tip of his finger over a bite mark on my neck—so small it’s always served me an extra scoop ofdisturbed with my daily ration.

I don’t remember getting it, or any of the other small ones.

I don’t want to either.

He studies me like a three-course meal with a goblet of sparkly blood to wash it down. “I remember you,” he purrs, the words silk, binding me up into a sticky cocoon that makes it hard to breathe.

This sinking feeling spears me through the guts.

He cocks his head to the side. “Father used to let me feed on you when you were doped. He said your blood was his favorite.”

Bile rushes up and chokes me. Forces me to swallow.

Nobody bleeds for me like you do.

Old wounds bite deeper, a low growl bubbling in the back of my throat …

My pretty boy. My favorite.

I drop my chin, looking at Cainon from beneath my brows.

He frowns, and another thread of blood weaves between his eyes, down his nose where it drips onto my bent knee. “I believe he secretly thought it might awaken some sentient part of me, though he never voiced it.”

His words are a buzz in my ears, barely breaking through the deep drone of centuries of pent-up rage desperate for release.

I crunch my hands into balls. Picture them tightening around his neck.

“I thought the Gods gave me Orlaith … That she would be everything Mother was for Father.” He shrugs. “Now I realize they’ve just given me a chance to prove how worthy I am of their special treatment. Jakar tried to strike her today and missed.” He waves a hand at his fucked-up face. “I won’t.”

My fangs slide down so fast I barely feel the sting.

“Rhordyn will fuck you up,” I say, deadly calm. “He will push a talon through your chest real slow, right there.” I point to the scar sitting just above his heart—just. “But a little farther down.”

“Impossible. Orlaith made sure of that. Like a fucking puppet, she put the beast down for good.” He chuffs out a mangled sound that curdles my blood. “Didn’t you know?”

Orlaith told him she killed Rhordyn …

“I played her, Baze. And she danced for me. Oh, how she danced for me. You should have seen the way she arched that pretty neck—a fucking whore for my bite.”

Even my bones vibrate with rage, and I rip my stare away, looking through the bars to the boy huddled in the corner of the opposite cell, my heart slamming to a stop when I realize he’s watching. Peeking over the top of his cloak, his eyes visible between tangles of floppy hair.

Taking it all in.

Fuck.

I wish he’d plug his ears. Close his eyes.

I wish he’d have made it to that fucking ship.

“Shadow’s Hand, right beneath my nose,” Cainon muses, shaking his head, laughing.

My heart stops.

Did he see her true self?

Her fucking mark?

“You’ve both been hiding her this entire time.”

The words butcher me down the middle. They scoop out my insides, then slop them on the ground, heaped in a steaming pile.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Jerk against my chains so hard I feel them peel some skin from my wrists, immediately quenching that itch.

He knows …

And I’m stuck down here in a fucking cell.

“I’m looking forward to killing her. I’ll hang her from a pike so everyone can see Shadow’s Hand in the flesh before I set her alight while you and the boy watch.”

My eyes snap open, a snarl slicing between my bared teeth.

Don’t listen, kid.

I rip at my chains again, again, again.

Cainon gives me a serpentine smile and shoves to a stand, towering over me. Looking down on me like the God he thinks he is. “Until then, you’re going to the Glass Palace,” he says, cutting a glance at Zane, and my snarl morphs into a deep, chesty growl that rattles my fucking teeth.

Cainon dishes me a smirk. “Both of you.”