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Chapter four

ATALIIA

“I swear to the fucking Gods, I don’t care that he’s a king, if Hyacinth didn’t love him, I would feed him to her Gods damn dragon.”

Andrues lifted a brow at the threat in my tone but kept his eyes glued to the pages of his book.

“Who does he think he is? These are my dreams. He wants to give that monster—who literally tortured me just to save a little face, and kidnapped the supposed love of his life—access to my mind.” I flicked my fingers and sent a vase full of bloodred rose mallow crashing into the wall behind me.

Andrues slid a leather scrap into the seam of his page and closed the book. He tilted his head, resting his chin on his fist, and studied me.

“What?” I snapped.

He didn’t deserve my anger, I knew that, none of them did. Not even Landers. Landers had done more for me these last nine months than I was willing to admit, and I didn’t know why that made me so angry—why I hated him for it.

“Are you done?” Andrues asked, his expression amused.

“No,” I shot back. “As a matter of fact, I’m just getting started and I cannot believe you would even—”

“Ataliia,” he interrupted. “Are you done ?” Andrues gestured his hand over the length of my body and I looked down to see hands that were not my own.

I hadn’t realized I had shifted, I didn’t feel it.

I sucked in a sharp breath, slumping into the chair across from him, and let the air seep out through my nostrils.

As I took in another breath, I could feel my body—my face—morphing back into my own.

I could feel my magic working when I was calm—focused.

I was spiraling.

I knew I was spiraling but I didn’t know how to stop it. Didn’t know how to stop this vile darkness from poisoning my mind.

Recently, when I got angry, I’d started shifting without realizing it. It was like my magic was trying to protect me. It sensed danger when rage flared inside of me and took control in an attempt to shield me from harm.

“You are giving your magic too much control. If you are not careful, it will devour you, Ataliia. Your magic is not for the weak-minded.” The tone in which he said the words was kind, but there was a current of concern that ran through the veins of them.

I nodded, leaning back into the chair and lifting my chin toward the ceiling, hardening my face so he wouldn’t see the pain—the tears begging for release just under the surface.

I refused to let anyone see a single tear defile my face.

“Now, about these dreams—”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes at the ceiling as Andrues continued. “I agree with Landers, we are no longer in a position to do nothing. There are too many lives at stake,” he said, his voice calm.

I sat up straight and narrowed my eyes, pinning them on him.

“Of course you would agree with him, you’re basically his little pet. The only thing that upsets me about your opinion, is that it doesn’t surprise me,” I snapped, watching as his thumb spun the ring around his right pointer finger, and the corners of his lips twitched upward.

He ran a hand through his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen over his brow.

“I know this may come as a shock, but this is not about you. It involves you, yes, involves your dreams—dreams that seem to be trying to tell us something much bigger than you or me. But, I ask you, if it is a choice between risking the lives of the people you love, risking the realms, or facing the man you fear, what are you going to choose?”

“I don’t fear him,” I hissed, pushing my chin up.

“Yes, you do,” Andrues said slowly, his voice so deep, so commanding. “You see him and you feel all the pain he inflicted—you are sucked back into those chains, dangling from that ceiling.” He stood, pushing the sleeves of his tunic up his forearms.

The muscles underneath his skin tightened as he stepped directly in front of the chair where I sat, and stared down at me. His sapphire eyes pierced through mine and I swallowed.

“ No ,” the word came out of me like a dagger.

I didn’t want to hear this. I didn’t want to remember this. I wasn’t scared. I would not let myself be scared.

“Yes,” Andrues responded as he bent over, both hands clasping the arms of my chair tightly as he leaned in toward me.

“What, Ataliia? Are you afraid of a little pain? Scared of a bit of torture? Scared of a man weaker than you?” Andrues’s voice was a low rumble as the words left his mouth, his breath nipping at the crimson painted on my lips.

I sucked in a sharp breath as I drew my eyes away from the necklaces dangling from his neck—the vein pulsating under his scarred throat—and met his gaze.

“I am not scared of him, but I will make him fear me.” I growled the words at Andrues and a charged silence graced the air as our breaths mingled in the small space between us.

“Good.” Andrues pulled back, standing to his full height as my heart raged in my chest. “Now we are getting somewhere.” He smirked down at me and I shot from my chair.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?” I stepped behind the chair, putting space between us.

“You’ve called me worse,” he said, shrugging as he sat back down in his chair and pulled his book back into his lap.

“I swear to the Gods, I hate you. I really do.” I spat the words at him as I started to pace.

He was infuriating, using my own fear against me like that.

No, not fear—I wasn’t scared.

“For being someone you hate so much, I do find you in my quarters quite often.” He smiled to himself as he said the words, opening his book and propping his chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re right. It won’t happen again,” I snapped and strutted to the door.

“Fear,” Andrues said over his shoulder as I wrapped my fingers around the golden handle, refusing to look back at him. “Keeps you grounded in reality, it is not a weakness.”

I hesitated for only a moment at his words, then straightened my shoulders and closed the door behind me.

I stood in the grand hallway outside of his chambers and watched as a rat scurried across the polished floors. A small shudder ran up my spine at the sight of it.

I fucking hate rats.

The sun was starting to rise over the rolling hills, slivers of light seeping in between the flowing sage curtains and dancing across the gold flecks inlaid into the marble floors.

The castle was quiet at this hour, peaceful almost.

I let out a sharp breath as I began my walk down the corridor, my boots trudging along underneath me, the only sound in the otherwise silent space.

Andrues, like me, never seemed to sleep. And something about him led me to believe that he was just as haunted as I was. Haunted by the horrors life dealt to him.

I’d started coming to his quarters a few months ago, when it felt like I had nowhere else to turn.

Hyacinth had Landers, and I was so happy she did—she deserved that love after everything she had been through. And Wren had Pri. That left me alone, and I wasn’t used to being alone.

I was used to Ardan —

I shook the thought from my head as a lump caught in my throat and my heart threatened to explode from my chest.

On the nights where loneliness felt like it would consume me, I found myself in Andrues’s chambers. We would read in silence and more often than not I would fall asleep in the chair across from the fire. I always woke before him, and left before he could see me.

I wasn’t sure why I did that, wasn’t sure why I felt like I needed to sneak out.

But slowly, those silent nights reading turned into short conversations, then longer ones.

Eventually, we had stopped reading altogether and talked into the early hours of the morning until one of us drifted off to sleep.

And still, I would sneak out before dawn.

He spoke openly around me in a way I only saw him do with Landers and Pri, but when we were in a room full of people he slipped back into his shell and I would watch as he closed himself off to the world.

In the last month, he had taken it upon himself to point out all my bad behaviors. There was something in the way he spoke to me, something in his brutal honesty that made me grateful he didn’t see me as fragile, while simultaneously making me want to punch him directly in the face.

I didn’t see the problem with a few bar fights here and there.

Men did it all the time; what was the difference if I did it? It was insulting for them to think I couldn’t hold my own. Not one of the men I fought knew what was coming for them when they threw that first punch.

I felt alive after each fight, like nothing would be able to get the better of me again. And it didn’t hurt that for every fight I won, I added more coin to my coffers from the pockets of these vile men.

So what if I chased that feeling a little. We all need something to keep us from being shattered by the losses. So what if mine looks different from theirs , I thought to myself as I rounded the last bend of the corridor leading to my quarters.

I had been so deep in thought I hadn’t realized how far I had made it through the castle. It was beginning to come alive now, the sounds of guards shuffling through the halls and maidens rushing through the staff quarters to start their morning routines.

I looked up from the swirling marble to see Elric leaning against the entrance to my rooms and rolled my eyes. Here we go , I thought to myself as I stopped in front of him.

“What do you want, Elric?” I sighed, my tone unamused as I pushed the key into the lock and twisted.

“You made me look like an idiot this morning, Ata. You made me seem inept,” Elric scolded, following on my heels into the sitting area of my chamber.

“No, you made yourself look like an idiot,” I said, pulling my sweater over my head and tossing it onto the back of an armchair. “It’s not my fault your men can’t tell the difference between their King and an impostor.”

I pulled my hair up onto my head in a tight bun, kicking off my boots and pulling my leathers and undergarments down my legs as my skin shifted. I tossed my clothes into the corner and walked through the double doors into the bedroom.

“Look at it this way, now you know where you have a weakness, and you can fix it.” I lifted a brow as I turned to face him, this naked body now on full display.

Elric kept his eyes locked on mine and I smirked at the willpower he was using not to look me over—not to let his eyes take in every inch of me.

“This”—Elric gestured toward me with one hand, the other clamped tight around the pommel of the sword belted to his side—“doesn’t change the conversation I am trying to have with you, Ata.” He dragged a hand down his face, groaning as he lifted his eyes to the ceiling.

“Maybe not, but fucking me may give you a change of heart.” I grinned as I laid back onto the bed, letting my legs open just enough for him to view what he was missing.

His eyes stayed glued to mine for only a moment longer before they drifted over my body.

“This conversation isn’t over,” he growled, releasing control and letting his sword clatter to the ground.

His hands moved frantically as he walked toward me, unbuttoning his tunic and letting his clothes fall to a pile at our feet.

I slipped out of bed where Elric still lay naked atop the sheets, his deep brown skin glittering with sweat against the sun that had finally made its full entrance into the soft morning sky.

“Why don’t I come back and stay with you tonight? We can have a proper meal together and talk—maybe with you staying in your own body?” Elric asked as I slipped a crimson robe over arms that slowly shifted back into my own, and tied it at the waist.

My brows furrowed as I looked over at him. “Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Ata, maybe to get to know each other better? To learn about the woman I am bedding.”

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hair from under the robe’s collar.

“It’s been almost every morning for two months now, and though I am not complaining, I would like for it to be something more. I would like to see you, to be with the real you.”

His voice was so kind, so sincere, and I knew he meant it. I knew he genuinely wanted to know me on a deeper level than the detached intimacy we used to fill a void.

But I didn’t want him to know me—know the black hole that consumed my soul. And I would never, never let him touch me in my own skin.

This body would never belong to anyone else.

It would always be his.

“We talked about this,” I said, turning my eyes from his to hide the shame. “If you’re not satisfied with our arrangement any longer, I understand. But that’s all this is Elric—an arrangement . A service we are giving to each other to fulfill a need we both have.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I spoke, couldn’t bear to see the hurt I knew I’d find looking back at me.

“It’s nearing eight and I need to bathe; we have a breakfast date with your King.” I said the words over my shoulder as I stepped into the bathing chamber and closed the door behind me.

Today I will do better; I will be better, I promised myself as I walked over to the vanity and gazed into the mirror.

I made myself that promise every morning.

But I never kept it.

I couldn’t seem to get through a single day without pushing the people that loved me, the people I loved, a little further out of reach.