Page 97 of Hell-Bound

Zelaia stepped in front of a distraught Ren.

“Ren, listen to me,” she said firmly, but not unkindly, “AzurisJester.”

Ren didn’t want to listen. She wanted to cover her ears to stop the bells of realization beginning to ring in them.

“But why?”

Her voice was beginning to break.

“Whywould he do this?”

“Azur has many reasons for doing what he does—It isn’t for us to question.”

“That’s…absolute bullshit!” she shouted, leaning in closer to Zelaia, balling her hands into fists.

The Devil did not flinch.

Ren felt like such a fool. So embarrassed that she hadn’t seen it.

“Does everyone know?”

“No,” Zelaia said, looking at her sadly and crossing her arms. “Only the other soulless here in the safe house.”

Ren felt the overwhelming urge to run—as if running from the news would make it less real. But there was nothing to run to. Nooneto run to. Her body moved, backing away until she hit a wall, allowing her exhausted legs to give way and slump to the floor. She felt like her friend had just died—ripped away from her life violently.

“I don’t know what’s real anymore,” Ren whispered. “I’m so tired of feeling so powerless. Of being in the dark.”

Zelaia didn’t speak. She stood in silence for a beat, before walking to a nearby room. She returned with a tunic, pants, and some boots and bent down, leveling herself with Ren.

“If you want to know the truth. I can help. But please realize, sometimes the truth is a lot harder than the fantasy we paint for ourselves.”

She set the clothes next to Ren.

Ren did want to know the truth. But she was so tired. She could just curl up here, on the soft carpet, and sleep.

“What’s going to happen to Azur?”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Zelaia’s eyes became serious.

“I don’t know. Your mark is still there, though,” she said, pointing to her neck. “That means he is still king, has at least some of his power, but for how long, I can’t say. Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

Ren let her body work robotically as it pulled off the remnants of her once beautiful gown.

Zelaia helped her stand and steered her limp body to the bathing chamber. She insisted Ren wash her face with cold water and helped her pull the pins from her hair, remove her horned circlet, and redress.

Ren couldn’t look at the shining gift from Azur; it was too painful. A visual that held too many conflicting emotions.

Zelaia also insisted that Ren drink at least a cup of teaand some stale biscuits. Ren complied numbly.

“We won’t go until you’re ready,” Zelaia said with unexpected tenderness.

“You defend him,” Ren swallowed, “but it’s not fair what he does.”

Zelaia exhaled sharply.

“He saved me, Ren.” She looked up as if grabbing onto a distant thought. “If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be—I’d rather be a sleeper than what happened to me.”