Page 11

11

Dagny

Warm. So, so warm…

My eyelids flutter, struggling to open as a flurry of sensations hits me all at once. Smell, touch, taste, and feeling flood my system, overwhelming and beautiful and euphoric after being in the dark for so long. My fingers curl in one by one, the joints protesting after being locked in the same position for gods know how many hours.

I’m not exactly sure what happened or where I am, but the warm body folded around mine fills me with a sense of safety, of completeness, and despite what my body demands, I just want to lie in this position, drinking in this sensation for as long as I’m able.

A rough palm slides along my arm, following the dip and curve of my collarbone before resting lightly across my windpipe, needlelike claws scraping my pulse point absentmindedly.

Where am I? What happened?

I try to shift to a sitting position, but the hand tightens around my throat, holding me in place. “Don’t get up yet. Just a little while longer. Just… let me hold you.”

The silky voice crests over my skin, raising the hair at the back of my neck as my pulse increases, warning me of something despite the pleasant warmth spreading from my heart. Something’s not right…

Even as I think it, I sink further into the stranger's clutches, nuzzling my cheek against his abdomen as the heat spreads to my fingers and toes and blinding silver light explodes behind my lids. “This is nice…”

“It’s more than nice,” the voice whispers. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

My mouth tips upward in a smile, the joy in his voice contagious. Desperate to put a face to the beautiful voice, I crack my lids as far as I can, blinking away the sleep film coating my eyes and making my vision hazy.

A glowing red orb stares back, piercing through the dark shadows of my cell like a beacon, shining with a kind of quiet desperation I’ve never seen on any man, animal, or beast.

“Malice?” I reach a hand to his face, brushing my fingers against his cool skin to make sure he’s real. A spike of rage pierces through the fog coating my mind, but I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I care for Malice—my mate—what reason is there to keep my hands away when I know he wants me to touch him as much as I do? When the bond is screaming that this is right.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, sliding my hand to his brow. “You feel like home.”

Malice’s eyes flutter closed as he releases a breath, broad shoulders settling as if a great weight has been lifted. A rare, genuine smile tips his mouth as I brush my fingertips through his hair, marveling at the silkiness of the long red strands.

“I’ve been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his lips to my forehead. “They’re so much sweeter than I thought they’d sound.”

“Mmm.” I allow my eyes to close as Malice slides his other hand over the curve of my hip, my heart thrumming in answer to the appreciative hum vibrating his chest. My blood is on fire, my skin bathed in molten gold, but still that nagging voice in the back of my mind lingers, telling me to pull away. Ordering me to remember.

“Malice?”

“Yes, wildfire?”

My brows knit in a frown as I search his gaze for the answers I so desperately need. Why can’t I remember anything? What happened to me?

“What’s going on?”

“Hmm?” His tone is distracted, his focus entirely on the bare strip of skin showing through the tear in my bodysuit. His claw hooks on the fabric, shredding through the material and doubling the size of the hole.

“Malice?”

Instead of answering, Malice slides two of his fingers through the slit on my hip, his bare skin brushing against mine, drawing sparks of electricity everywhere he touches.

“Malice? What are you?—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, scraping his nails against the side of my neck. “I have a secret to tell you.”

“A secret?”

“Mm-hmm.” He gazes downward, his genuine smile turning into something far more sinister. “We don’t have much time, though, so you’ll have to listen carefully. Can you do that for me, kitten?”

I nod hesitantly, hoping what he has to say will clear up some of my confusion. Malice’s smile widens, pulling at the corners of his eyes as he leans in like he’s going to whisper something in my ear. But instead of that, his sinful voice enters my mind, his words enough to shock me back into reality.

I’m breaking us all out of here tonight.

Eight words, and my world flips on its head. I stare at Malice, my sworn enemy and mate, unable to believe what I’m hearing.

“ What ?”

Shh. He brings a clawed finger to his lips, his eye glowing with mischief. Remember, they’re listening.

I shake my head, my thoughts too tangled to make any sense of the situation. With every blink, though, my memories come racing back, dozens of fractured frames and distorted images that make me dizzy. Malice betraying us. Locking me away. Force-feeding me some kind of poison that made me go unconscious.

“Let go of me,” I snap, wriggling against his hold to no avail. “Let me go right this moment!”

Malice sighs, tightening his grip as he stares deep into my eyes. “We were getting along so well, too.” He blows out another breath, his eyes trailing to the ceiling. “I suppose it can’t be helped.”

“What are you talking about? Get off me!”

He shakes his head, his voice entering my mind for the second time. I will right after you listen to what I have to say. It’s important.

“There’s nothing you could possibly say that would make me?—”

I’ve been plotting to kill Slaine this entire time.

I freeze, his words knocking me for a loop for the second time in five minutes. But then I remember how many times he’s lied to me, and my walls come back up. I don’t believe you.

And why would you? He blinks, his smile dropping along with his carefree demeanor. Except I’m afraid I’ll need you to trust me to do what comes next.

Why?

He sighs. Because I need your help. Because you’re the key to our freedom.

I don’t understand…

He stares, unblinking. Did Kaebl ever tell you who your father was? What you are?

We didn’t really get the chance to talk about it. I narrow my eyes in a glare. We didn’t really talk about anything, due to literally getting attacked by evil soldier demons.

Malice’s lips press together in a frown. Still, someone should have explained it to you.

And what was stopping you, exactly?

He shakes his head. Oversight. It does happen from time to time.

I scoff, rolling my eyes. I’m tired of hearing your voice. Just say what you need to say and get out of my cell.

Malice lets out a breath, his claws extending as the muscles along his forearm ripple, his irritation clear. I suppose it’s best to start at the beginning. Your father—Erik—was Abaddon’s right hand, and his most loyal soldier. The last of an extinct species of demons with black-feathered wings—Sables—he was equal parts powerful, capable, and brilliant. A fantastic asset on the battlefield, and a better friend. His gaze turns mournful as he recounts the memory. When he died… the entirety of Abaddon’s kingdom mourned.

Kaebl told me he was… murdered. And Zairn… I can’t finish the statement. That my father was tortured before he met his end.

Malice nods, his jaw ticking. He was hit by an ambush as he was collecting sap from the welwigs. Slaine explained it away as rogue demons with a score to settle, and Abaddon never knew the truth until it was too late. That Slaine was behind it all from the start.

I worry my lip between my teeth, stomach churning from all this talk of death and betrayal. Despite the fact that Malice has told me so many lies, I can’t help but feel that this time, he’s telling the truth. But why?

I tear my gaze from him, my eyes latching onto a spiderweb crack in the wall just over his shoulder. I suppose if he’s finally decided to be forthcoming, I should get as much information as I can. My wings… does that mean I’m half Sable? I ask.

Malice nods. Correct. Also your propensity toward magic—driving magic, in particular.

Driving…?

What you did with the antethorpe—when you were able to control it for a moment. It’s incredibly rare, and only Sables have been known to have that ability. It’s why they were so feared, and why they were eventually wiped out. He smiles knowingly. Well, until you, that is.

And because I’m half Sable… that makes me, what? Extra strong?

A silent laugh shakes Malice’s chest. You are extra strong because you are a halfling—born of two different worlds, belonging to neither—possessing the unique ability to draw from the magic of The Far Place at will. Adding the fact that you’re part Sable means you’re likely to become the strongest being in The Far Place.

He says it so matter-of-factly, but the information makes my head swim. I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure that thing with the antethorpe was a fluke.

He shakes his head. It wasn’t. It was barely a drop of the power you’re capable of.

I don’t believe you.

This time, Malice does let out a quiet laugh. Stubborn. One of the many traits you gained from Erik. Your nose, your ears… your eyes you get from your mother, though.

A painful twinge rings in my chest at the mention of Mom, and despite all the other questions running through my mind, demanding to be answered, I have to know. You met my mom?

Malice’s smile turns sad, his eyes creasing at the corners. Abaddon did. He liked her very much. Your father brought her to The Far Place many times, until Slaine began his crusade, and it was no longer safe to do so.

Do you know how they met?

He brushes his thumb gently over my pulse point, his grin spreading. It was fated by the stars. Erik was off on a hunt in the human realm, and what was supposed to be dinner turned out to be his one true fated mate.

My nose crinkles. He tried to eat her?

A chuckle rumbles Malice’s chest. Don’t act so shocked. Besides, it’s not like he was going to kill her. Just… nibble on her soul, if you will.

My stomach churns at the thought that I may soon have to consume something similar. Gross. In all regards.

Malice stifles a laugh, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. I suppose it does sound strange to someone who consumes… crackers and peanut butter…

I smack his chest lightly, suppressing my own laughter. We sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, breathing in each other’s presence and pretending the outside world doesn’t exist.

My fingertips swirl on his chest absentmindedly as I process everything he just told me, my mind turning to dark places it hasn’t gone since I was locked in Kaebl’s dungeon, alone and in the dark and trapped with my thoughts. Malice?

Yes, wildfire?

I tease my lip between my teeth, considering whether it’s worth it to ask him. Do the other pieces… do they remember my mom, too?

He looks off into the distance, nodding. They hold different memories, but yes. We were all greatly saddened to hear of her passing. But the fact she held on so long after the passing of her mate just goes to show how much she treasured you.

My mind turns to the last image I have of my mother—finding her in the forest, her face bloated and purple, the squeal of the oak branch attempting to support her weight as she swung lifelessly in the breeze.

Malice frowns, no doubt having seen flashes of that moment—or at the very least, felt the rush of emotion down the bond. I never knew… you were the one to find her…

Tears well in my eyes, but I force them back, not willing to let him see me crumple. It was a long time ago.

And still just as painful. Don’t you dare mitigate it. His arms curl tighter around me as he lowers his head, pushing his face deep into the crease of my neck. My sweet, sweet wildfire. To go through such pain and still be so kind and good… what a rare treasure you are. What a brilliant, lovely creature.

I close my eyes, focusing on the rush of my pulse and the pounding in my temples—anything other than that place, that feeling. I can’t go back there. If I do, I’ll be lost for good. The shadows are growing, closing in, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t?—

“If you can fear, you can also be brave,” Malice whispers, folding his wings around us, blocking me from sight and the shadowed figures roaming on the wall. “It doesn’t just apply to outside threats, wildfire. The monsters within us are just as terrifying.”

I pull back to look at him, the shadows casting harsh panes along his jaw and brow bone, highlighting the jagged scar running vertically across his pitch-black eye. “Where did you hear that?”

Malice tilts his head, his grin widening. “Abaddon loved that phrase. I imagine Erik told it to your mother, who in turn gave it to you.”

“She never told me the part about monsters.”

“No. That’s just a little flair I added to it,” he murmurs, gaze swimming with a tender emotion I can’t quite place. “Something just between us.”

A pleasant hum echoes in my chest as I give in to the bond, letting the comfort of Malice’s embrace lull me into a false sense of safety. Suddenly, helping him doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, and it’s impossible to remember why I was so against it.

Malice?

He nuzzles his face against my neck, a low purr building in his throat. Yes, little one?

I just… I want to tell you that I’ll do it. I’ll help you with whatever you need.

He pulls back, his brow raised in shock. You will?

I nod. Anything… anything to get all of us out of here safely. But it has to be all of us. Even Kaebl.

Malice’s face sours at the mention of the golden-eyed demon, but it’s gone in the next blink, replaced with an expression of profound relief. I’m so happy to hear you say that.

A mirroring smile spreads my lips as I stare up at my mate, pleased I could make him this happy. What do you need me to do?

You? His smile morphs, turning into something much darker. Deadlier. You just have to relax.

He slides his hand over my shoulder, sweeping along my forearm and stopping at my wrist. His palm curls around my hand as he threads his fingertips with mine, his pinky wrapping around mine like a vise and forcing it back painfully.

Malice? That hurts.

I know, wildfire. His canines slice out, piercing his lower lip as he continues pulling back on my finger. I’m so sorry for this.

Using more force than before, he yanks my finger to the side, a burst of agony flaring from the joint and sparking stars behind my eyes as a crack breaks the air. A film of silver cuts across my vision as that thing living under my skin opens its eyes, desperate for control after being forced into slumber for so long. An ancient energy flows into my veins, sucked from the stone, the earth, the stars. It settles into the space just below my skin, exploding from my pores in a violent burst of light and power.

My vision tunnels, spiraling out of control as a blast of energy shakes the four surrounding walls, threatening to send the castle tumbling to the ground. I clutch onto something warm and familiar as my head drops back and an otherworldly screech echoes from my open mouth, piercing through the clamor of falling stone and screaming voices. And through it all, there’s a voice—soothing and stoking the flame all at once, pushing me toward the edge.

That’s it, wildfire. Burn for me. Break for me.

I follow the voice over the ledge and into the sky. And as I fall, I swear I can see a pair of beautiful onyx feathered wings spreading out from my shoulders, slowing my descent.

But then the madness takes hold, and I crash all the same.