Page 48 of Blackheart

I lay in the bed, full of white linens and more pillows than I had things to do with. As much as I wanted to enjoy the luxury, I couldn’t help but think of Riven in the invisible box, and Clarke—slowly dying.

And my twin, Xavian Steele. Did he even know I existed, or was he just as guilty as Clarke?

He couldn’t be the worst person in the world. He allowed the Dark Natured to live free in Castivian. Thousands of people across the sea with dark blood had jobs, families, and lives. That would all be taken away if I didn’t get the deed to him in time.

My chest ached as memories kept forcing their way in. Trista and our morning tea. Luna and I cuddled up on our raggedy couch. Beck, and how he’d saved me more than once, never asking for anything in return.

I sighed, turning over and clutching a pillow. I would’ve killed to lie in a proper bed two days prior. I would’ve pleaded for a warm bath like the one I’d indulged in before flopping onto the mattress.

While it was nice to be clean and warm, fear masked the relief of comfort.

I moaned, getting up and walking across the small room to where my bag was lying on the floor. I pulled out my new grey blanket before crawling back into bed.

It smelled of winter and pine, and I held it as I fell asleep, dreaming of nothing but the abyss.

By the time morning came and Sitara knocked on my door, I was already awake and had made the bed twice out of boredom.

“Good morning, Elora. I have something for you to wear later,” she said, closing the silver door behind her and smiling politely. In her hands was a small white box. She handed it to me with her eyes facing downward.

I opened the box, jaw dropping at the contents. Inside were lacy black undergarments, which certainly didn’t seem necessary for a business transaction.

Sitara insisted the attire was required.

I closed the box and tossed it onto the bed. “May I speak freely with you?”

She checked outside the door for listeners, then quietly closed it again and nodded.

“Is this manor a prison?”

I’d been looking out the windows all morning, watching Sitara walk around and tend to the gardens. No one appeared happy or free.

Sitara was hesitant, her head down before finally coming up with an answer. “Yes. But if a bird is caged long enough, it can make it a home.” I’d been caged for years, but never once thought of the Waywards, or anywhere, truthfully, as my home.

“Do you think the bird forgets how to fly?” I asked.

She stared out the window at the garden and woods beyond it.

“No. I think they long for the sky.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’ve been here for years. We all have. Zain wanted our village because it's closest to the river. In the middle of the night, he used his sorcery to transform our village into this mansion. All of us have been bound by his magic since.”

I stood beside her, noting every single woman—prisoner outside. “What of the children? The men?”

She was quiet long enough that it was clear I did not want the answer.

“I’m sorry.” It was all I could offer, and I was ashamed of it.

She tried to smile. “It’s alright. A warrior will come.”

There was no trace of sadness, but something else. Hope. Riven was a warrior and had come, but Zain had just as quickly seized him.

I would do something for her after I delivered the deed. If Xavian Steele were truly my twin, then he would be a king soon enough. Not a bastard, but aking. The first of Castivian. If I genuinely had a drop of royal blood in me, I would use it to help her.

To my surprise, Sitara gifted me a necklace. It was a simple silver chain with a small, violet pendant, similar to the stone clubI adored. “It enhances your Nature, for the act,” she explained before helping me clasp it and leaving me with instructions to wait until Zain summoned me.

I waited, with nothing to do but observe the pretty women walking around the courtyard, trimming the flowers. They were little birds, tending to their cage. I hated it, and I bet Riven did too.