Page 63 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)

KASTIAN, PRESENT

I wake up disoriented, with no idea where I am.

My head is pounding. There’s a needle of pain stabbing between my eyes, and I hear—no, feel—a high-pitched ringing in my ears that pulses with the beat of my heart.

My throat is dry, and my tongue is thick against my teeth.

I force my eyes open and stare up at a ceiling ribbed with dark, uneven stones.

Torchlight flickers in the periphery of my vision, reflecting off the glistening veins of water trickling down the heavy stone walls.

Then, the smell hits me; sharp and briny with a sickly overlay of rot.

Where the fuck am I? What happened?

I try to sit up and can’t, which sends a jolt of panic through me. Something pins my wrists and ankles to whatever I’m lying on, and I can’t free them no matter how hard I pull.

Breathe. Don’t panic.

Deep breath in…

I choke. The horrible stench of the room breaks my usual calming ritual and sends my panic rocking even higher. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to lose my shit.

When I open my eyes again, I’m focused. Alert.

I shift my weight as much as I can, flexing my fingers, testing the range of movement in my shoulders.

I’m lying on some sort of table, my wrists and ankles strapped down. The table is cold under my back, but the air is wet and heavy, clinging to my skin. The straps bite into the bone, and no matter how many times I arch my hips and kick, twist, and struggle, the cuffs refuse to move.

I can’t use magic unless I can get my hands free. I try anyway, waving my fingers, but without the full use of my hands, nothing happens.

Someone’s gone to a lot of fucking trouble to keep me here.

I close my eyes again and try to remember something leading up to this moment. Anything.

The last thing I remember is Odessa; her beautiful face looking up at me as I came apart inside her. Then, the soldiers streaming out of the swamp and Dessa begging me to go along with it and not get myself killed.

I remember realizing that, while I could probably fight my way out of the circle of guards, I wouldn’t be able to do it before one of them grabbed her.

I thought I’d have a better chance of both of us escaping if I waited until we were back in a part of Hydratta I was familiar with, so I let them put me on a horse, and waited.

I was working on getting my wrists untied and my gag off, when something cracked against the back of my head.

After that, nothing. Everything is dark.

The soldiers obviously knocked me out and brought me here. That must mean that I’m somewhere in the capital of Hydratta. Under the castle, maybe?

I twist my head to the side and try to get a better sense of my surroundings.

The chamber is bigger than I thought—at least fifteen paces wide.

The walls are shot through with mineral stains and barnacles.

I don’t see a door or any windows, but if I strain my ears, I think I can hear distant voices.

Maybe if I can get just one hand free?—

A door creaks somewhere out of sight, and quick footsteps echo on the stone floor. I freeze, every muscle locked. A shadow grows closer, and falls across the table, just before a figure steps into the light. “Don’t struggle. You’ll only hurt yourself.”

My back goes straight, and I recoil in shock. “Magnus.”

He’s taller than I remember, but otherwise the same. Blonde hair, cold eyes, and an almost kind smile that hides what an evil bastard he is.

“That’s King Magnus, now,” he says, walking closer. “It’s been a long time, Kastian. I admit I was surprised to hear you escaped Dyaspora and even more surprised to learn you risked crossing my border. You should have stayed in Vernallis. I might never have realized you were there.”

I grit my teeth and sneer at him. “Where is she?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. Tell me where Odessa is!”

He looks annoyed—tired, even—and clicks his tongue impatiently. “Both of you are so annoyingly single-minded. Shouldn’t you be more concerned with yourself at the moment?”

“Tell me where she is.”

He rolls his eyes. “Where’s Kastian? Take me to Kastian,” he mimics Odessa’s high voice, then drops his voice low in some gravelly imitation of me. “Take me to Odessa. Tell me where she is!”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in theater,” I snap.

“You’re both so painfully boring and predictable.

You know, at first, I couldn’t understand it.

I didn’t remember you being stupid—a little na?ve maybe, but not as much of a fucking imbecile as your father was.

I kept asking myself why you would ever risk coming back here, but then I remembered how obsessed you were with the little siren, and suddenly it all made sense. ”

Anger burns in my chest, but I don’t rise to the bait. One thing I remember about Magnus is that he always liked to hear himself talk. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I grind out.

He scoffs. “There’s no need to try to protect her. I already have Odessa taken care of upstairs.”

Upstairs. So she’s in the castle, and I’m beneath it—or at least close by. Not that knowing that does shit to help me.

“No more questions?” Magnus asks, interrupting my thoughts.

“Have you given up on her already? That’s probably for the best.” He stoops low, his mouth near my ear.

“Do you think she’ll wonder if you’re still looking for her when I’m fucking her tonight?

Or do you think she’s already accepted that you’re dead? ”

White, fiery rage blurs my vision, and I try again to sit up, yanking my wrists so hard that the bindings slice through my skin. “If you fucking touch her?—”

Magnus snorts. “Oh, I’m going to touch her, but that’s not what you should be worried about. You should ask yourself why you’re still alive and what I’m going to make her do to keep you that way.”

The blinding fury inside me seems to burn even hotter, and a blue haze clouds my mind. I force myself to keep my face blank, but inside, I’m burning alive.

I’m not scared of Magnus—never have been—but the thought of what he could force Odessa to do, who he’d make her become just to keep me alive, chills my bones.

Magnus paces around to the foot of the table and stops. He pulls something out of the pocket of his green velvet jacket and twirls it between his fingers. For a moment I think it’s a knife, but then he leans further into the torchlight, and I see that it’s a glass syringe with clear liquid inside.

“What the fuck is that?” I demand.

He rolls his eyes again. “So direct, like you just expect answers to all your questions without even having to work for it. Your father was the same way.”

Since leaving Dyaspora, I learned my father didn’t die along with my mother and sisters. Magnus kept him alive, and allegedly tortured him for months—years, maybe—as a warning to anyone who opposed the coup.

I stiffen, and a cold certainty washes over me. Whatever Magnus is about to do to me is likely the exact thing that killed my father.

Magnus holds up his long needle, flicking the barrel of the syringe so a bead of liquid stands at the tip. He tilts his head as if considering a painting, then finds a vein on my arm and presses with his thumb, hard enough to leave a bruise. “I wish I could say this won’t hurt…”

The needle slides into my skin, and for a brief, foolish second I think it’s not working, but then the fire starts.

First it burns within my arm, then races up through my shoulder into my chest. I try to keep my mouth closed, try to stay silent, but almost immediately a shout breaks free.

I yell in agony as my body arches of its own accord, jerking against the table so hard, I wonder for a moment if the restraints on my arms and legs will break.

I pass out before I get a chance to find out.

W hen I wake up for the second time, all I’m aware of is pain .

My head pounds, and all my limbs ache, unlike anything I’ve experienced before. Even back in Dyaspora when I spent all day mining for ice and all night freezing half to death, nothing hurt like this. It’s like I was lit on fire from the inside out, and all that’s left is my charred remains.

Slowly, and with enormous effort, I pry my eyes open. I’m still in the dark cave-like room, still strapped to the table…still unable to reach Odessa.

I look up and my eyes find Magnus again through the haze of pain. He’s frowning, looking between me and a large gold pocket watch. “Barely five minutes. Disappointing.”

Was it only that long? I would have sworn the pain went on for days.

I cough, my voice sounding ragged to my own ears. “What the fuck did you do?”

He smiles. “Oh, hardly anything yet, just a hint of poison. I’m told it feels like every vein in your body is burning, but that’s merely a side effect. The real purpose is sedation.”

“Keeping me strapped down isn’t enough? Are you such a fucking coward you need to sedate me too?”

His lips twist in an ugly grimace, but he seems unable to ignore my question.

Even now, he can’t resist the urge to lecture me.

“There’s this strange thing about magic: even if you’ve trained your entire life to use it one way, under some circumstances, you’ll be able to use it another way…

your father taught me that. Once, without even using his hands, he spontaneously conjured a wave to knock me over during one of our sessions.

I can’t have you doing the same, so really, you can thank him for everything that’s about to happen to you. ”

He pulls out another long needle and stabs it into my other arm and the burning begins all over again.

He watches and waits until I’ve been burning for over an hour, then reaches into the folds of his coat and produces a knife.

Not the surgical kind I half-expected, but a wicked-looking, old-fashioned hunting blade. My heart rate triples.