Page 70 of Once the Skies Fade (Immortal Reveries #2)

Chapter 70

Matthias

I f I never got poisoned again, it would be all too soon. How much poison could someone take before it eventually killed him? Or could I potentially develop an immunity to it? That would be decidedly better, but that was not at all helpful to me now as I sat here in a dark, dank prison cell. From the pitching and rolling of the floor, and the water seeping in through the wooden wall opposite me, it wasn’t hard to conclude I was on a stars-damned ship.

Which meant we probably weren’t heading to Emeryn, leaving only one likely destination: Dolobare.

Stretching, I winced as the metal bars of my cage dug into my shoulder blades.

“Ah, you’re finally awake,” a voice noted from behind me.

I peeked over my shoulder at Graham, who leaned against the ladder that led to the upper decks. “So Calla asked you to poison me and throw me into the belly of a boat?”

“Ship,” Graham corrected under his breath. “And no, I don’t answer to Calla anymore. Soon, no one will.”

I stilled, studying the fae, trying to piece together his plans. The lingering poison, however, fogged my brain and made it nearly impossible to follow one train of thought through to completion.

“So, you’re giving up and running away?” I asked, cringing at the throbbing ache sitting behind my eyes.

Graham sneered. “Hardly.”

I waited for him to elaborate, raising a crooked brow at him in hopes of spurring him into saying more, but he didn’t. Sighing, I turned back around and laid my head against the bars, letting my eyes drift closed. “Why don’t you wake me when you’re ready to talk.”

Sucking in a loud breath, Graham slowly approached. “As if I owe you any sort of explanation.”

“You’re right,” I said around a half-hearted smile. “You don’t. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep off the last bit of this fucking poison you jabbed me with.”

“I don’t answer to you either,” Graham snarled, and I nearly laughed at the annoyed expression I envisioned on his face.

“Fair,” I mumbled. When he didn’t leave, I shifted my head against the bars and asked, “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried about what Calla will do when she learns you’ve kidnapped her mate?”

“Not if the Assembly follows my orders.”

My eyes popped open, my jaw tensed, and I slowly shifted around to stare up at him through the bars.

Graham scoffed lightly. “What? No pithy remark now?”

“ Your orders,” I said.

Graham nodded smugly.

“Have to admit, you had me fooled,” I said, my mind racing through all of Graham’s actions during the trials. “Here I thought you were just bitter from unrequited love—broken-hearted and wracked with jealousy.”

“Jealous of what—you?”

I ignored his question. “I mean, is all of this because Calla rejected you—repeatedly, I assume?” I paused to note the way his jaw pulsed and his lips pressed together. “Or was she always just a means to an end, an easy path to power and prestige?”

“Why does it matter? Either way, I’m winning.” His smug smile tried to return, but it was marred now by his obvious irritation.

“I merely wondered why. Seems like quite the complicated endeavor just to steal a throne, no?”

“None of this had to happen,” he seethed. “No one had to die. Their blood is on her hands, not mine. I simply wanted the status and power that was owed to me––that was denied me.”

“Ah. Of course. Everything is everyone else’s fault, right? Your life is so hard, so unfair.” Angling my head, I regarded him curiously. “Aren’t you tired of always being the victim?”

A sneer curled Graham’s lips. “Says the one who’s been poisoned…how many times now?”

“A few, but remember, one of those was self-inflicted,” I reminded him, pleased by how my attitude crept under his skin, his eyes flashing with anger beneath deep creases in his brow.

“And aren’t you tired of always failing?” Graham spat out the question, but I found it hard not to chuckle.

“Failure brings growth,” I said, shrugging.

“Will you still feel that way when your mate is dead? When you fail to save her?”

Against my will, the memory of Calla slumped in her chair swarmed me, and I recalled the panic that had flooded my veins when she didn’t wake up after I’d kissed her. Drawing in a breath—and trying not to gag on the putrid scent riding the air—I calmed my nerves and my heart as best I could. Turning my face back around to stare at the wall, I pulled in one more breath and let it soothe away the tension until my shoulders slumped and my jaw relaxed.

“You underestimate her. Everyone does. She won’t be that easy to kill, and I think you know that.”

“The rest of her family died easily enough. She will too.”

This pulled another laugh from deep in my chest. “If you truly believed that, then you wouldn’t be fleeing across a fucking sea.”

Graham’s scoff gave way to a low growl, a hint of fear sparking in his expression, but he said nothing.

“No. You’re scared of her.”

“Don’t be?—”

“And you fucking should be.”