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Chapter six

ATALIIA

I paced back and forth in front of the mantle, Landers and Elric flanking both sides as I flipped a dagger in my hand.

I really should not have agreed to this meeting yesterday.

We were in an unoccupied, windowless room—a neutral ground that Landers insisted would help ease the tension. The space was bare, nothing but a few chairs placed in front of the fire and a desk pushed into the far corner.

A pang of shame shot through me at the realization.

Everything had been removed from the room so I wouldn’t destroy it.

Is that really who I’d become? Someone who couldn’t be trusted not to destroy everything I came in contact with? I let out a sharp burst of air as I looked up to see both men studying me.

“What?” I snapped.

Landers smirked as he said, “Please remember, today is not the day he dies.”

I rolled my eyes in his direction as I continued pacing.

“Would you like me to go find him, your Grace?” Elric asked, looking down at a small pocket watch.

“He will be here,” Landers said, glancing at the door. “He does love to make an entrance.”

“Fucking males,” I mumbled under my breath as I stopped at the desk and hoisted myself onto its surface. I dug the tip of my dagger into the worn wood, scratching a line into it as the door finally opened.

“Apologies—” Dukovich stated as he stepped into the room.

“Save it,” I cut him off, scoffing as I slid off the table and crossed my arms.

The corners of Dukovich’s lips tilted up as his eyes slid over my body.

“I was informed you needed my help?” he said, pulling his eyes from me to Landers. He had a slight accent I’d never noticed until now.

Probably because he was doing more torturing than talking.

“Yes,” Landers responded, pushing off the mantle and tucking his hands casually into his pockets.

“Since being in your”—he paused, choosing his words carefully—“possession, Ataliia has been having unusual dreams. You will work with her to see if these dreams have any meaning, or if they are residual mental wounds stemming from the torture you inflicted on her. If they are the result of your torture, you will remove any of The Silliands’ Chaos Magic still lingering in her mind.

” Dukovich nodded to Landers’s words as his gaze wandered back over to me.

“Seems simple enough,” Dukovich stated as he took a step further into the room. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the small smirk that flickered across Landers’s face.

“If you say so,” Landers responded, clearly amused. “You will meet everyday in this room at noon for two hours until we have an understanding of what these dreams mean.”

Landers’s back straightened as he took a step toward Dukovich.

“We are extending you trust that you do not deserve. If you break it, if you hurt her in any way”—Landers’s eyes flashed to me then back to Dukovich—“let’s just say there are multiple women waiting to wear your blood like a trophy.”

Dukovich placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head toward Landers. “I swear to you, no harm will come to her.”

I scoffed at the gesture.

It was an empty promise coming from the man that had tortured me.

“Elric and I have business to attend to—we will be back in two hours,” Landers said as he strode to the door and opened it.

Elric hesitated at the threshold, not wanting to leave me alone in a room with this monster. At least one of them cared about my wellbeing , I thought to myself as Landers called his name from down the corridor. I nodded to him, as he closed the door behind him.

“Well, doesn’t this sound like fun?” Dukovich said, clapping his hands together.

I tilted my head, studying him as he fell into a chair and crossed an ankle over a knee. I hadn’t seen him since he came here and I barely recognized him.

His brown skin pulled tight over a sharp jaw that led to a strong neck and broad, muscular shoulders.

His eyes, a mix of green and brown, were set underneath thick, dark brows that matched the deep brown of his wavy hair.

His full lips were the only soft thing set into his masculine features and I forced myself to look away before my eyes lingered on them.

“Why do you look like that?” I asked from my corner of the small room.

“Like what?” he asked as a smile slid onto his full lips. “Handsome, you mean?” A quiet chuckle rolled from his chest.

“That’s the last fucking thing I’d ever call you.” I snapped and lifted myself back onto the table’s surface.

Though I’ll admit, he was . . . not ugly. If I was forced to be honest, he was beautiful and that only made my loathing for him deepen.

“And yet, the fact still remains.” Dukovich’s grin widened, his perfect teeth put on display as he said the words and I scoffed.

“Vile and arrogant. How charming,” I sang, flipping my dagger between my fingers.

Dukovich leaned further into his chair, resting his head on the back of it.

“This is my true form. What you saw before was a glamour—a way of hiding what I truly looked like. Once the plan I concocted was pushed into motion, I could not have people recognize me.”

“You glamoured yourself, for centuries . . . just in case one day, you needed an escape plan?” I huffed. “Sounds like paranoia.”

“No decent scheme is planned in a day, love. And it worked, did it not?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Let’s just get this over with. The less time I have to spend with you the better.” I jumped from the table, my boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud as I pressed my hands against my hips. “How does this work?”

Dukovich stood, and I forced my body not to flinch at the step he took toward me.

“Let me see these dreams of yours.” He took a quick step forward, holding his hand out to touch me and my heart ricocheted in my chest as I watched him move toward me.

I moved quickly, snatching two daggers from my belt and held them to his throat and groin. He stopped, his hand only inches from my head as I raised onto the balls of my feet and lifted my chin to meet his eyes.

“Touch me without my permission, and I will cut the cock from between your legs and suffocate you with it,” I snarled.

Dukovich’s lips split into a wide smile as his gaze fell to mine. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, love? Having your hand wrapped around my cock?”

A gag lodged itself in my throat as I pushed him away and took a step out of his reach.

“You disgust me,” I spat.

He chuckled, running a hand through his thick, wavy hair, pushing it behind his ear as a few strands—too short to stay tucked away—fell back over his brow.

“I have to touch you in order to sense if any magic was left inside your mind. If you want my help, there is no way around it.” He said the words gently and I recoiled.

“Let me make one thing very clear to you,” I hissed. “ I do not want your help but I have no other choice. I am only doing this for the people I care for. If it were just for me, I’d let the throne burn.”

“And I thought I was a pessimist,” Dukovich said, chuckling as he clicked his tongue. “Now, may I see what exactly these dreams are about?”

“Why are you helping me?” I asked, taking another step away from him and crossing my arms over my chest.

He took in a long breath, his eyes studying me as he slowly exhaled and lowered himself back into the chair.

“Despite what you may believe, my intentions have always been to help. Now, we may have started out on the wrong foot—”

“Started out on the wrong foot?” I snapped, cutting him off. “You fucking tortured me. Almost to death and you want to just casually say we ‘started out on the wrong foot’? That’s fucking rich.” I scoffed, the words bitter as they fled my mouth.

“I never laid a hand on you. I never touched you,” Dukovich snarled, his eyes darkening with every word.

“And you think I would actually believe that?” I spat back.

“If you recall, when they brought you to the pit, I immediately gave you a tonic to lessen the burn of the Uthrens and any other pain that would be inflicted on you. Or have you conveniently forgotten that part of our little story?” he asked, and I could hear the bite in his voice.

“And that suddenly makes what you did to me okay?”

“I was still the High Priest. I had a role to play and it was either torture you myself, let my guards have their way with you, or let the High Priestesses and their minions soil their hands with your blood. I had no good option, but I was not about to let those fucking guards lay a finger on you knowing the vile things they wanted to do. So, I let the High Priestesses and their lackey’s handle your interrogation.

I made the best choice I could given the circumstances.

You were never supposed to be there in the first place.

” His voice was a low growl as he leaned forward in his seat.

“One day, I will kill you for what you let them do to me,” I said, the promise slithering from my lips as my chest heaved.

“By all means, love, do try.”

We sat there staring at each other, my heart racing in my chest. I couldn’t stay here with him for a second longer. I couldn’t look at him.

“I am not doing this, not with you. I will find another way.”

Dukovich stood from his chair, his frame towering over me. “And I thought you were a fighter. It’s a shame really, to see that fighting spirit so broken.”

I stormed toward the door. If I stayed here a second longer I would kill him. Pushing past him, I reached for the door handle as he grabbed my wrist, pulling me backward.

My vision went black.

Sirens screeched through my ears as I whirled on him, snatching a dagger from its sheath and plunging it into his side.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I screamed, the sound snapping my vision back into place.

Blood was staining his tunic, drenching his fingers crimson as he grasped his side.

“I-I told you not to touch me,” I stuttered, staring at him wide eyed.

“You stabbed me.” He gasped, looking from his wound to me.

I reached for my dagger, quickly wrapping my fingers around the hilt.

“Don’t pull”—I yanked it from his side—“it out.” He winced as a low grunt left his throat. “Why the fuck would you pull it out?” he hissed.

“Why wouldn’t you stop me sooner if I wasn’t supposed to!” I snapped back frantically.

“I was trying to,” Dukovich breathed.

“I told you not to touch me,” I scolded again, watching as the blood began to trickle down his legs and form a small puddle at his boots.

“Unless your plan is to watch me bleed out, I suggest you take me to your healer.” Dukovich groaned, flinching as the words came out of his mouth, but I could hear amusement saturating his tone.

“You knew I would stab you, didn’t you?” I crossed my arms, glaring up at him.

“Thought it might help . . .” Another groan. “. . . you feel better to know you have now wounded me too.” He smirked at me through the pain. “ Now , about that healer.”

I rolled my eyes, letting out a sharp breath as I took a step toward him and pulled his arm over my shoulder.

“Get a single drop of your blood on me and I will stab you in your other side.”

A breathy chuckle left his lips at my words. “So many threats.”

I opened the door, and made a left toward the war room. Landers was most likely there, and I knew I would find Andrues at his side.

We didn’t make it more than three steps before they tethered only feet in front of us.

The corners of Andrues’s lips turned up at the sight of us.

“You owe me fifty coin,” Landers said to Andrues over his shoulder as he raised a brow at me.

A scowl seeped into my features. “You made bets?”

“I thought it might take a little longer, but I did not expect Dukovich to make it out of that room unscathed,” Landers said with a low chuckle.

“I hate to interrupt,” Dukovich cut in, “But, if you could stop this bleeding, I would very much appreciate it.” I turned my head, looking up to see his light brown skin paling.

Landers gestured his head toward us and Andrues strode forward, relieving me of the weight of him as he took my place at Dukovich’s side.

I stepped away from them and a knot formed in the pit of my stomach as they tethered away.

“Well,” Landers started, dragging a hand through his hair. “Do you feel better?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I said, turning on my heel toward my rooms.

“Tomorrow, Changling, please try not to wound him,” Landers called out as I strode down the hall.

I smiled to myself as I rounded the corner of the corridor.

There was no way I was making that promise.

I walked to my quarters as quickly as possible, desperate to bathe the scent of him off of me. I closed the door behind me, locking it as I sighed into the familiar quiet of my chamber.

The knot in the pit of my stomach tightened.

I had never lost control like that, never hurt someone that badly on accident. I shook my head.

He deserved it.

He had let the Priestesses do so much worse to me—let them tear me apart.

There were scars strewn across my entire body that proved it.

Andrues had not been able to heal them all.

Not even the Yaldrin healers could fix all of the damage done from the residue—the Svech that had been packed into the open wounds to torture me.

I had never spoken of it—to anyone.

The pain I had endured.

The fear and the utter hopelessness I felt hanging in that dungeon. I was sure I would die there, sure that I would never see my family again. But then I had heard them and I willed every ounce of life I had left inside of me to the surface, praying to the Gods that I could hold on.

I pushed myself from the door and swallowed the sob racing toward the surface at the memory.

I would never speak of it. Not ever .