Page 2 of Infernal Crown (Cursed Darkness (DarkHallow Academy) #3)

CHAPTER TWO

LYSITHEA

The first thing I feel is the silence. The roaring inferno in my head is gone.

The agony in my throat is a dull, distant echo.

I’m floating in a quiet, black void. It’s almost peaceful.

I open my eyes and stare at a pure black ceiling.

The floating candles nearby flicker, and I blink.

My hand automatically goes to my throat.

It feels smooth with only a few bumps. I turn my head and see I’m in a hospital bed in the infirmary.

“I’m alive,” I croak, struggling to push myself up.

The guys surround me instantly. They look like they’ve been dragged through hell and back.

That’s when it all comes flooding back. The plummet through the Midnight Spire, the battle, the book, the vicious cut, bleeding out. That’s the last thing I remember. “We’re back at DarkHallow?”

“We are,” Dathan says, his voice rough. He won’t meet my eyes. None of them will. Verik is staring at a crack in the ceiling like it’s the most fascinating piece of architecture he’s ever seen. Evren is a statue of guilt.

“What happened?”

“Blackgrove,” Verik cuts in, still not looking at me. “He stabilised you.”

“How?”

“By using dark magic,” Dathan says, “Let’s just leave it at that for now. We have bigger issues to deal with.”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that,” I say lightly, wondering what they aren’t telling me, but it’s not important. “We need to get back to the Forge and finish this shit.” I swing my legs over the side of the bed, but Evren gently pushes me back.

“Rest.”

My head swims, and I nod. Maybe he’s right. I feel like I died and came back to life while something was stamping on my head. “Did we get the opposition?”

“Yes,” Verik says. “Everyone who was down there was obliterated, except for us and that fucking grimoire.”

“But there’s more?”

“Probably.”

“Then we need to go.”

“You can’t leave DarkHallow,” Evren blurts out, surprising me.

“Who said I was going anywhere?” I ask carefully.

“No, he means ever,” Dathan mutters so quietly, I barely hear him.

“Why?”

Verik finally meets my gaze. The hellfire in his eyes is banked low, like embers after a wildfire. “Because the only way to save you was to bind you to DarkHallow. It’s magic, it’s healing magic, fixed you up, but there is a side effect. You are now part of the, uhm, academy.”

I stare at him. The words don’t make sense. “Come again?” My fingers trace the new texture on my throat. It’s not scar tissue. It’s a delicate, raised pattern. A collar. Cool and smooth under my touch. My blood runs cold.

Silence. Cold and unrepentant.

“You let him bind me to DarkHallow?”

“You were dying, Thea,” Dathan says, his voice raw. “There was no other choice.”

“What happens if I leave?”

“The magic wears off.”

“So I’m dead. Reanimated by DarkHallow.”

“Welcome to the club,” Evren mutters.

My gaze snaps to his. He doesn’t appear to be feeling sorry for himself or me. It’s a matter of fact. This or death.

“What happens when I graduate?” I croak.

“There is a place for you here,” Blackgrove says, appearing out of nowhere, as he does.

“Meaning?”

“Your choice. You can simply live your life, or you can teach, mentor, cook, or tend the gardens. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want,” I repeat slowly. “I wanted to not have a cage.”

“It’s not a cage, per se. It’s a life support system.”

“A life support system,” I repeat, the words tasting like poison. I look from Blackgrove’s infuriatingly neutral face to the three guilty monsters standing around my bed. “So I’ve traded one prison for a slightly prettier one with better food. Wonderful.”

The dark humour is a thin shield. Underneath, the old panic claws at my throat. Trapped. Again. My entire existence has been a cage. The orphanage to DarkHallow.

“We’ll find another way,” Verik says, his voice a low growl. “A way to break the bind.”

“And what happens if you can’t?” The question hangs in the air, sharp and ugly. The truth.

“Then we stay,” Dathan says, finally meeting my gaze. His silver eyes are a storm of regret and defiance. “We all stay.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, but it’s the only thing that matters. The cage doesn’t feel so small with them in it.

“Fine,” I say, getting up, unsteadily. This time, no one stops me. “I need a fucking shower. The grimoire is still waiting. The Crown needs forging. I’ve got an eternity to be pissed off at you later.”

“We’re sorry,” Evren says, gripping my hand. “We couldn’t lose you.”

I soften at his words. “I get that,” I whisper. “And I know you wouldn’t have done this unless there was another choice.”

I pluck my disgusting dress away from my skin. It sticks and pulls. “You couldn’t change me?” I mutter, not expecting an answer. I shake my head. “Okay. Shower. Food. Then we go back.”

Verik’s head snaps up. “Back? Shouldn’t we regroup a bit first?”

“If we are regrouping, so are the opposition. How long have we already wasted with me being killed, resurrected and laid up in here?” I cut him off.

I don’t wait for an answer. My legs are still shaky, a frustrating reminder of my weakness. But my will is iron. This cage is just another wall to break.

We walk out of the infirmary, a united front of broken pieces and borrowed time. My room is pristine, the magic of the academy having erased all evidence of my tantrum. It’s unnerving. It’s exactly what happened to me.

I take my time showering, letting the hot water rinse away all the blood, all the sweat and fear and memories of almost dying.

I wash my hair, rinsing the matted blood out of the long white strands.

The water runs pink down the drain. When I’m clean, I step out and wrap a towel around myself.

My hand goes to my throat again. I stare at my reflection in the steamed-up mirror.

The collar is a delicate web of shimmering black lines, almost beautiful in a sinister way.

I walk out of the bathroom. They’re all there, watching me, their guilt a thick, suffocating blanket in the air.

“Stop it,” I say. “It’s done. We can’t change it now.”

“We could have—” Verik starts.

“No,” I cut him off. “You couldn’t have. And I’m not dead. So let’s call it a win and move on.”

Dathan lets out a breath. “You’re taking this better than I thought.”

“Oh, I’m fucking furious,” I say, a cold smile touching my lips. “But I’m channelling it. Let’s go finish what we started.” I look at each of them, my monsters, my jailers, my saviours.