Page 59

H.A.Z.E

T he darkness is a quiet thing. A living thing. It settles around me, thick and cloying, but I don't flinch. I don't tremble.

The chains groan against the movement of my breath, their weight a pitiful attempt to keep me still.

The blood-forged links coil around my wrists, digging deep, biting like the teeth of a starving beast. They tether me to the ceiling and the walls, my waist bound so tightly, they’re pressing against my ribs. But none of it matters.

No. It's the mask—the iron cage clamped around my mouth and nose—that is the true punishment.

A quiet storm seethes beneath my skin, waiting to be unleashed. To punish. I’ll admit, I didn’t think she was stupid enough to go back on our deal. It had nothing to do with loyalty, and everything to do with survival.

Did she really think I wouldn’t punish her? That I wouldn’t predict her betrayal even when I thought she wouldn’t be that fucking stupid?

The memory of her—of them—plays in my mind, sharp and bitter. In the darkness, I welcome the memory of their arrival only an hour ago. I want to feed the storm inside me.

I remember her scent; the cloying perfume arrived before she had—soft, sweet, an attempt at grace. But beneath it, beneath the layers of silk and the gilded arrogance, there was something sharper, something that curdles in the air. Hatred.

A smile curls over my face as I succumb to the memory.

The chains rattle as I shift, the sound scraping through the silence like a blade against bone. The footsteps stop just beyond the reach of the darkness, hesitant, lingering, but then she steps forward, bathed in torchlight — her head high, her gaze like steel.

I wondered when she would visit.

Queen Maya Crux comes to me with her crown gleaming like a blade, her golden silks cascading around her like the banners of a kingdom that she thought was untouchable.

She is braver now that her unbreakable chains have been wrapped around me, braver now that King Kwame's archaic runes had settled deep into skin and bones and stripped me of my power.

But it isn’t her who caught my attention first. No. It’s the woman following behind her — Princess Luna Imperium.

She tries to stand as Maya does, tries to hold herself with the same rigid certainty, but I see the way her fingers twitch, the way her breath comes too quick and too sharp. The way she refuses to meet my eyes even as she forces herself to look at me.

How precious.

"My, My," I muse, savouring the way Maya's spine goes even straighter, the way her fingers curl into her palms. "This certainly brings back some interesting memories."

"I'll warn you once," Maya grits, glaring down, thinking she holds dominion over me. But I see her. I know why she came. It’s the way she looks at me with something deeper than hatred, something sharper.

Fear.

But she hides it well.

"You're going to die, and I suggest you take your secrets with you." Maya's glare hardens, her next words a threat. "Or you'll regret it."

I smile. A slow, curling thing meant to slice through the fragile courage she wrapped around herself.

I lean forward just slightly, enough for the chains to clink against themselves, enough to watch the Princess flinch.

"Secrets?" I echo, savouring the way both women flinch, and the nervous glance shared between them. "I have many secrets — care to be more specific… Val?"

Maya's lips press together too tightly, her expression carefully composed, but there is something beneath it — something brittle. A flicker of hesitation. A crack too thin for anyone else to see, but I see it.

But the Princess — ah, the Princess.

My gaze slides to her, and she knows the moment it does.

Luna tenses, every muscle drawn tight as if she can will herself into steel. I watch her throat bob with a swallowed breath, the way she forces herself to exhale in a measured rhythm — desperate to appear composed, desperate to mask the fear leaking from her in waves.

"How about you?" I murmur, tilting my head, letting the words drip like honey laced with venom. My voice drops lower, more intimate, just for her. "June."

A beat. A breath.

The chains rustle as I lean just an inch closer, my voice curling around her like a serpent.

"It was easy back then, wasn't it? To be someone else and escape the weight of your sins when we made that deal to kill His Majesty, King Valadez Imperium. Your father—"

The words barely leave my lips before she moves.

Maya lunges, her hand seizing my face with a force that sends my head snapping to the side. Her nails dig into my cheek, sharp crescents of pain blooming against my skin, but it only makes my smile widen.

And those eyes — those furious, terrifying blue eyes — bore into mine with a fury that is almost enough to hide the fear trembling beneath.

"Shut your goddamn mouth," she hisses, her breath warm, her grip trembling.

Ah. There it was.

"We tried," Maya snaps. "Take it out."

Luna pulls out an iron mask that gleams in the dim light, the heavy metal catching the flickering glow of the candlelight. It’s cruel in its craftsmanship, a thing designed not just to silence but to punish.

Thick, suffocating iron, moulded to cage the lower half of my face, with sharp glinting studs embedded within — small, precise daggers meant to pierce into flesh, to press into my skin and settle like fangs on my jaw.

I stare at it, at the crude, merciless thing meant to strip me of my voice, meant to control me, and for the first time since I had been dragged here, my smile falters.

Just slightly. Just enough for the Queen to notice, for her lips to twitch into something that might be satisfaction.

I hate her for it.

But I don’t flinch. I don’t recoil. Instead, I meet the Princess's gaze and watch as she tries so desperately to keep her hands steady, to keep her fear hidden behind a mask of duty.

She fails.

I exhale slowly and tilt my head. Let them see the amusement wane from my face, replaced by something colder, darker — a promise.

Maya steps back, her voice calm, deliberate.

"Put it on."

The chains groan as I shift, my body tensing as the Princess hesitates, her fingers tightening around the mask's edges.

I watch her.

And I whisper for the last time before the silence takes me. "Enjoy this moment. Because when the mask breaks… I will carve screams from your throat."

The Princess sucks in a breath, the tips of her fingers brushing my face as the iron mask is forced against my skin.

The memory fades, the rough edges of the concrete floor biting into my knees. My arms aching from being restrained above me. And the mask; the longer it remains, the deeper it’ll bite, ensuring that even the slightest attempt to move my mouth will bring nothing but pain.

But pain has never bothered me. Never silenced me.

I feel the mask against my mouth. My nose. It's weight, suffocating. Of all the things I've endured, I've never been silenced.

I bow my head—not in defeat, but in patience. A stillness that isn't submission, but a waiting. A predator crouching low before the kill.

Soon.