Page 19 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER TEN

OPHELIA

“ Y ou traitorous bitch,” my father hisses.

There was a time when those words filled me with terror. Pain and fear were once my constant companions, but now I don’t even bother to flinch.

“No, Father.” The strength in my voice surprises even me. “ You’re the traitor, and I’m done living in fear of you.”

Our matching gray eyes meet across the dinner table, and for the first time, we’re truly seeing each other. I’ve known the depraved depths of his soul for years, but now he sees mine. I feel nothing but disdain for the male before me.

“You will pay for this!” he roars, lightning bursting from his hands. It slams into the guards beside him. They drop lifelessly to the floor. For that, I do feel remorseful. That fury was meant for me, but it claimed them instead.

Everyone in the room retreats a step from the lightning dancing along his fingers. I don’t blame them. I’ve felt the sting of his Gift, and I don’t wish it on another. They don’t want to be his next target, but none of them are.

He and I have been approaching this confrontation for years—I only regret not facing him sooner. Maybe if I had, there wouldn’t be nearly a dozen bodies in his wake.

I realize too late that though I am his next target, it wasn’t his Gift he intended to attack me with, it was a dagger hidden at his side. The metal flies through the air, end-over-end, headed directly for my chest.

I possess no Gifts that could stop this knife, so I just stare at the end coming for me. It takes less than a heartbeat, though it feels like slow motion as I watch it happen.

The sharp metal pierces my flesh, burying itself deep in the center of my chest. I expect it to hurt, but I feel nothing.

My knees give out, Elijah catches me before I hit the floor. He lowers me, gently stroking my cheek as tears fill his panicked eyes.

I try to speak, but nothing comes out. My body feels cold and heavy as the noise around me fades. All I can hear are the rapidly slowing beats of my heart.

Elijah is mumbling something through his tears, but I can’t make it out. Layne appears on my other side, his blue eyes telling me all the things I can’t hear.

“Ophe…”

I think he’s saying my name.

It’s cold.

“Wake…”

Everything is so cold.

“…safe.”

Blackness clings to the edges of my vision, slowly spreading until all I see are blue eyes.

“ Ophelia, wake up!” Elijah’s voice breaks through the dark. He shakes my shoulder roughly until my eyes finally fly open.

A pained cry erupts from my mouth as I jolt upright, my entire body trembling. My hands grasp at my sternum, searching out the scar—the wound—I know must be there.

It burns and aches, my eyes filling with tears at the sensation.

“Make it stop,” I sob, rubbing my hands frantically over the center of my chest where the dagger landed. No matter how much I try to soothe the area, the pain persists.

He grips my face between both hands, thumbs rubbing softly along my temples and cheeks. “Make what stop?”

“The pain, Elijah,” I cry, tears running down my cheeks as I beg, “Where he stabbed me, it hurts so bad. Please make it go away.”

“Where who stabbed you?” Elijah asks, trying to piece together my sobs.

“M-my father,” I stutter. My breathing is rapid now, my lungs struggling to take in the oxygen necessary to breathe.

Confusion crosses his handsome face, and then understanding follows it a moment later. “No one stabbed you.” Pulling me into his chest, he rocks me back and forth. “You’re safe, darling,” he whispers, leaving gentle kisses on the top of my head.

The shock of his words startles me enough to still the tears. “What do y-you mean? I remember…”

“You were dreaming. That was all,” he reassures me. “You’re safe now. Breathe for me…”

I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar cinnamon and chocolate scent of the male behind me. It settles me enough to gain control of myself. The pain ebbs, leaving me all together in a few breaths.

Looking around, I’m greeted by a foreign room. It’s a bedroom, but that’s all I know. “Where are we?” I ask after a few more minutes of deep breathing.

“We’re in my chambers,” he replies, his fingers still gently stroking my face.

“H-how did I get here?”

“I found you sleeping in the gardens,” he says softly. “They’re not far from my room, so I brought you here for safekeeping.”

A few moments pass before I quietly admit, “I don’t remember going to the gardens.”

Elijah places another kiss on my hair. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I remember eating dinner with you. The kitchens made my favorite fall soup, roasted butternut squash. I was so excited for it.”

Elijah tenses before asking, “Is there anything else?”

“No, not that I can recall.”

“Ophelia, that was last night’s dinner. It’s nearly time for dinner now.”

“What have I been doing all day?” I ask, trying to process how I could have lost that much time.

“I don’t know. I was holding court for most of it, so I hadn’t seen you until I found you in the gardens.”

“I didn’t show up for court?” I ask in disbelief. That was one of the tasks Breyla entrusted to Elijah and me, one I desperately wanted to prove my worth for. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.

“No, you didn’t. I figured you had overslept and didn’t want to disturb you. I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

That was putting it mildly. I had barely managed a few hours of sleep each night since my brother’s death. It had only grown worse as the nightmares intensified.

“You’re telling me I have nearly an entire day unaccounted for?”

“It would seem that way,” he says, gently squeezing my shoulder.

I remain quiet, trying to make sense of the time I can’t account for.

“Do you want to tell me about the dream?” Elijah asks after a moment.

“It was of… that night,” I whisper. “Except Layne didn’t die. The dagger hit me like it was supposed to. I died in your arms.”

“But you didn’t die. You’re safe, darling,” Elijah reassures me, but I still can’t shake the phantom feel of that blade embedded in my chest.

“Elijah, I feel like I can’t trust my own mind.”

“You went through something traumatic. It inflicted wounds on a soul-deep level. Your mind, soul, and heart will take time to mend. You may not ever completely heal, but you will get better.”

I contemplate his words and silently wonder how long it takes for a soul to heal.

Hours later, I find myself wandering the halls of the castle as the rest of the world sleeps. Having slept most of the day and losing nearly all the last twenty-four hours, I was restless.

Dressed in a white sleeping gown and wrapped in a thick wool robe, I silently glide down the dark hallway. The stones beneath my bare feet hold a chill that comes with the onset of the autumn season.

I nod to the few guards I pass, letting them know I’m alright. They pay me no attention as I turn down a dark passage. There are no windows lining this hall, no moonlight to light my way, and no lit sconces. I conjure a faerie light to follow along with me as I walk.

Since the entire castle now knows I hold a Gift, there’s no point in hiding my magic. The only person I feared discovering it is dead, by my own hand.

No one will ever use me again.

Shadows flicker as I pass down the hall, the dim light bouncing off every stone that makes up the walls.

“ Traitorous bitch…” a haunting voice whispers.

I come to an abrupt halt, my eyes darting around my surroundings in search of the voice.

Nothing.

I’m alone, but it doesn’t feel that way.

I push forward, determined to get out of this passage. For several more minutes, all I hear is the soft pad of my feet against the stone floor.

“Stupid girl,” the phantom voice hisses. I feel putrid breath against my ear, and a shiver wracks my spine, covering my flesh in goosebumps.

I flip around, hand raised and ready to attack whoever is behind me.

Again, there is no one.

Shoulders tense, I turn back in the direction I’m heading. I’m officially done with this hallway and whatever ghosts haunt it. My speed increases, bordering on running, as I search for the exit from this nightmare.

Spotting a heavy wooden door, at last, my brisk walk turns to a full-on run. I yank on the iron handle, praying for the door to swing open.

It doesn’t budge.

I groan, tugging at it again with both hands. It creaks and moans, eventually budging an inch.

“Come on, open!” I shout at the stubborn thing.

An eerie sensation floods my body as I sense eyes on me. My throat constricts like there’s a hand wrapped around it.

It squeezes, sharp nails digging into the flesh of my neck.

Finally, the door relents, a loud scraping groan echoing around the passageway as I pull it open.

Bursting through the now-open doorway, I suck down fresh night air as the choking sensation dissipates.

A cough rattles through my chest as I pull oxygen into my burning throat.

I pull the door shut behind me, but don’t let it latch. I’d prefer to find a different way back, but don’t want to risk being shut out if there isn’t one.

Leaning against a wall, I inhale deeply, waiting for my breathing to return to normal. My eyes open wider as I take in the beautiful garden before me.

This isn’t like the castle garden Elijah had found me asleep in. There were no neatly trimmed rose bushes or well-kept flowers with stepping stones between them. This was wild, and raw, and savage, and utterly breathtaking.

Moonflowers with creamy white petals opened to the light shining down on them. The scent of night-blooming jasmine catches my attention right before I find the pink and yellow blooms amongst the moonflowers. The combined fragrance soothes something inside of me.