Page 21

Chapter

Twenty

Araya descended into the darkness, shivering as the damp cold slipped beneath her heavy cloak. Jaxon had gone up to her workshop to retrieve the housings, but she’d come down ahead to check on Loren—eager to begin the imbuing and put this entire chapter behind her. Once the shadows were dispelled, she could be done. Done with this dungeon. Done with the dreams. Done with whatever strange, unwanted connection bound her to the fae prince.

No one would ever have to know.

The thought sent a pang of something sharp and bitter through her chest. She shoved it down, clinging to the same tired logic she’d repeated for weeks. She had done everything she could. If Loren wasn’t willing to help himself… well, that was on him.

And yet, unease clung to her like the living shadows that were conspicuously absent as she made her way through the ruined temple. Her steps slowed, the hair on the back of her neck rising as she passed the desecrated tombs without any sign of them, unable to shake the sense that something was terribly, horribly wrong.

Araya shook her head. “Nerves,” she muttered, tugging her cloak more closely around herself. She hurried past the long procession of iron doors, more relieved than she wanted to admit when Loren’s cell and the guard outside finally came into view.

“Good morning, Aeron,” she said, dredging up a polite smile for the human man. “How are things this morning?”

“Quiet, miss,” Aeron nodded respectfully. “No trouble reported by the night guard.”

“That’s good.” Araya rummaged in her cloak for her key. “Jaxon will be down shortly, but I wanted to check on Loren before we get started.”

“Of course, miss.” Aeron inserted his own key and then hers, turning them both in the lock together. Araya stepped forward, sketching a quick rune to kindle the aetherlamp, expecting to see Loren sitting on the cot she’d convinced Jaxon he needed. Instead?—

“Gods,” Araya gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth as bile surged up her throat. She staggered back a step, nearly slamming into Aeron as the creeping dread she’d tried to ignore erupted into full-blown panic.

Loren hung limply from the wall, his arms stretched wide by the chains that pinned him in place. His head lolled forward, chin to chest, hair falling in a dark, matted curtain that hid most of his face. What remained of his shirt clung to him in blood-soaked tatters, revealing a grim tapestry of angry burns and vicious cuts. Blood still dripped from some of the deeper wounds, leaving sticky, dark trails along his ruined flesh.

“What—” Araya’s voice cracked, a sour taste rising in her throat. She swallowed hard, willing herself not to vomit. “What happened to him?” she demanded, spinning to face Aeron.

The guard stumbled back a step, eyes wide as he took in the grisly scene. “I… I don’t know?—”

“You don’t know ?” Her voice rose, shrill with disbelief. “You were standing right outside the door.” She whipped around, her boots sticking to the tacky blood streaking the floor as she rushed to Loren’s side. “Help me get him down.”

But Aeron didn’t move. He shifted uncomfortably, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword. “Miss, I—I can’t enter the cell or touch the prisoner,” he stammered. “It’s against protocol?—”

Aeron hesitated, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with her words, but still, his boots stayed firmly planted at the threshold. “The rules are very clear?—”

“Fine!” Araya cut him off, her voice shaking as it rose to a near shout. “If you won’t help, then go—go get my medical kit from the workshop!” She pointed at the door, her hands shaking. “Now!”

For a moment, Aeron looked like he might argue, but something in her expression made him think better of it. The door crashed shut between them, his footsteps pounding down the hall. But Araya couldn’t worry about him any more.

She spun back to Loren, her fingers fumbling over the manacles around his wrists. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach, the iron burning her fingertips as she searched for some sort of a release mechanism. There had to be a way to take them off?—

But there was nothing but rough, pitted iron. The mechanism had to be magical—but she’d never even seen it work. She wasn’t strong enough to rip them from the wall like Loren had—even if Jaxon hadn’t had them reinforced.

Araya stepped back, gasping for breath. She couldn’t think over the panic clawing at her, matching the ragged rise and fall of Loren’s battered chest. It flooded her lungs, drowning her. If he died?—

“Loren—” she grasped his face in her burned hands. “Wake up.” She shook him gently, then harder, a ragged sob tearing from her throat. “Please—you can’t just?—”

A sudden commotion echoed from the hallway, the door screeching on its hinges. Araya’s head snapped up, meeting Jaxon’s furious gaze as he stormed into the cell. Aeron hovered behind him, the bag Araya had demanded clutched in both hands.

“What the hell happened here?” Jaxon’s voice cracked like a whip. He whirled, glaring at the guard. “Who was here before you? Who else was given access to the prisoner?”

“I—I don’t know,” Aeron stammered, his voice faltering under the weight of Jaxon’s glare. “The night guard, I assume—Belkin was supposed to?—”

“Supposed to?” Jaxon snarled. He stepped forward, his next words hissed directly into Aeron’s face. “This prisoner is the key to everything . And you let him be tortured and left for dead?”

“I didn’t—” Aeron flinched, holding up her bag like it might shield him from Jaxon’s wrath. “Miss Starwind asked me to remove the manacles, but I’m not authorized?—”

“Do you think I care about your authorization?” Jaxon spat. “You do whatever she says from now on. If I find out you’ve hesitated again, I’ll make sure you’re the one chained to this wall. Do you understand me?”

Aeron blanched, nodding so hard Araya thought his head might snap off. “Y-yes, Master Shaw.”

“Good.” Jaxon turned away, crossing the cell in two long strides. “Hold him steady, Araya.” His hands moved over the first manacle, burnt aether crackling in the air as the first manacle fell away. Araya stumbled as Jaxon released the other wrist, letting Loren’s full weight fall on her, but then he was there, catching him under the shoulders.

“Get his legs,” Jaxon ordered. Together, they maneuvered Loren down onto the cot, his limp form sprawling across the rough mattress. Araya hovered at his side, her hands trembling as she brushed blood-matted hair from his face.

“He needs a healer,” she said, her voice breaking as she looked up at Jaxon. “I don’t know if he’ll survive without one. Please, Jaxon—call Serafina.”

Jaxon cursed under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair. “You really think she can be trusted with this?”

Araya nodded, her throat too thick with tears to speak. For a moment, she thought Jaxon might still refuse, but then he straightened, looking back at where Aeron still hovered uselessly at the threshold of the cell.

“Send guards to the neighborhood clinic in North Bend,” he ordered. “They’re to retrieve a Healer named Serafina Hart and bring her here, along with everything she needs to treat severe injuries. Burns, blood loss—everything.”

“But I can’t leave—” Aeron gulped, his voice faltering under Jaxon’s piercing glare. “Yes, sir. I’ll—yes. But I need to lock the door before I?—”

“Then wait,” Jaxon cut him off sharply. “I need a moment with her. Stay outside until I call you.”

Aeron hesitated, glancing between Jaxon and Araya before giving a jerky nod. “Yes, sir.”

Jaxon crouched beside her, his tone soft but laced with steel. “Araya, look at me,” he said, brushing a thumb lightly against her cheek. “Starling. You’ve done everything you can for him. You need to come with me now.”

Araya shook her head, tears streaking her face as she clutched Loren’s limp hand. “No—I can’t leave him like this. I need to—” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her forehead to Loren’s shoulder, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. “Please, Jaxon. He can’t—he can’t?—”

“Come on, Starling.” Jaxon’s hand tightened slightly on her shoulder, his tone still coaxing. “You’re not thinking clearly. You’re not a Healer, and nothing in that bag can fix this.” He leaned closer, cupping her jaw and angling her face toward him. “The best thing you can do right now is come with me so Aeron can go fetch Serafina.”

Araya stared down at Loren, her heart pounding in her chest like it was trying to beat its way free. Something inside her screamed, every instinct she had demanding that she stay, that she fight ?—

“ Araya .” Jaxon’s voice sharpened, slicing through the noise in her head. Her gaze snapped back to his, transfixed by the steel in his dark eyes. “You need to come out of the cell now. We need to talk—to figure out what happened here. But we can’t do that with you in hysterics. Trust me, Starling.”

He didn’t wait for her to agree, pulling her bodily to her feet. Something inside her screamed, wild and wordless. She didn’t understand it—only that walking away felt like tearing something vital from her chest. But Jaxon’s arm slid around her shoulders, propelling her forward as the door slammed closed between them.

Blood coated her face, her hands, her chest—drying into a brittle crust that cracked with every movement. Araya shuddered, pacing the workshop like a cage. When her dream had fallen apart around them, had it been because he was fighting for his life here? How could she not have realized?

“Starling.”

Araya flinched as Jaxon stepped into her path, catching her shoulders in his hands. “You have to stop, Araya. I don’t know why you’re so shaken—but this isn’t helping anyone.”

He didn’t know why —Araya stared at him, nonplussed. “A prisoner was nearly tortured to death while under our care—our authority,” she hissed. “He could still die! Why aren’t you upset?”

“I am upset,” Jaxon shot back, his tone laced with enough heat to make her pause. “That’s why I want to figure out who did this—but we’re not going to get anywhere if you fall apart.”

“I should have known.” Araya shook her head, hugging her arms around herself. “I should have stopped it?—”

“How?” Jaxon snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, Starling. We both know who did this. Even if you’d suspected something, what could you have done? He’s the High Inquisitor.”

“You think it was Darian Hale,” she whispered.

“He vanished right after he cornered you,” Jaxon said, his jaw tightening. “That’s not a coincidence. He could have used his credentials to get in here—and he left Loren like that to send a message to you.”

“To me?” Araya shuddered, unable to banish the image of Loren’s abused body from her mind. “Why? I’m no one?— ”

“Don’t pretend, Starling.” Jaxon wet his thumb, swiping it slowly through the blood streaked across her cheek. “You’re the one he cornered—the one he threatened. He wanted to rattle you —and he succeeded. Now, tell me why.”

“I—he—” Araya’s pulse roared in her ears, her chest squeezing so tight she struggled to breathe. “Loren’s key to everything. If he dies, your project?—”

“Do you think I’m blind, Araya?” Jaxon laughed, a cutting, humorless sound. “This isn’t about the project—you’re falling apart because it’s him .”

“It’s not what you think,” Araya protested, the words spilling out in a desperate rush. “I don’t know why this is happening—but I’d never betray you. I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything,” Jaxon repeated. “That’s a lot to offer, Starling. Are you sure you mean it?”

“Yes.” Araya didn’t hesitate this time, her gaze never wavering from his. “I’m yours, Jaxon.”

The words hung heavy in the air between them, charged with something dangerous—but the moment was shattered by a loud commotion from the hall. Jaxon straightened, his expression turning into a scowl as boots pounded against stone. Someone swore viciously, slamming hard into the door before throwing it open.

“I said let me go!” Serafina snarled, lashing out with her foot and catching one of the guards dragging her forward squarely in the shin. He grunted, barely managing to hold on to her as she twisted and writhed like a feral animal. “If you think dragging me in here like a common criminal is going to make me cooperate?—”

“Enough,” Jaxon barked. “Let her go.”

One of the guards yanked the hood off her head, beating a hasty retreat as Serafina rounded on him, snarling. But it was Jaxon that drew the brunt of her anger, her sharp blue eyes blazing as she advanced on him.

“What the hell is this?” She demanded, rubbing at the red marks on her wrists. “Blindfolded? Shackled? If you think that’s how you summon a Healer you’re out of your damned mind, Jaxon?—”

“There’s a gravely injured prisoner here,” Jaxon said flatly, unmoved by her fury. “You’re going to stabilize him.”

“A prisoner?” Serafina’s lips curled into a sneer. “Let me guess—you want me to patch him up so you can throw him back on the rack? No. Find someone else.”

“This isn’t a request.” Jaxon’s jaw flexed, and his voice dropped dangerously low. “You don’t have a choice?—”

“There is always a choice,” Serafina said coldly, folding her arms. Even with her braid mussed from the bag they’d shoved over her head, she leveled Jaxon with a look sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t heal people so you can break them again. If that’s why I’m here, you’ve wasted your time?—”

Araya’s chest constricted as she listened, the pull inside her growing more unbearable with every passing second. She stepped forward, her voice trembling as she interrupted, “Serafina.”

The Healer froze, her rant faltering as she took in the blood streaking Araya’s face and arms. “Gods,” Serafina whispered. “ Araya —what happened?”

“It wasn’t us,” Araya said, silently begging Serafina to believe her. “I found him like this when we got here this morning. I swear, Jaxon was with me at Garrick’s house all night.”

Serafina hesitated, twisting her braid as her gaze flicked to Jaxon, then back to Araya, considering. Finally she exhaled sharply, bending down to sling the bag the guards had dropped on the floor over her shoulder.

“I’ll do it for you. Not him.” She shot Jaxon a hard look. “But only once. If this happens again—” she shook her head.

Araya nodded quickly, almost choking on her relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Let’s go, then,” Serafina said. “Where is he?”

“Araya will take you.” Jaxon stepped aside, catching Araya’s arm as she started forward. “You’re the one who demanded the Healer,” he warned. “ Anything starts now, Starling. If this all falls apart, I know exactly who to blame.”

Neither she nor Serafina spoke as Araya led the way back to Loren’s cell, the silence stretching between them until it felt like a third presence in the corridor. Every footstep echoed louder than it should have, keeping time with the dread rising in Araya’s chest.

Serafina would help. She had to. Once she saw him—once she understood—she wouldn’t refuse.

But Araya’s hands were trembling by the time she passed her key to Aeron.

“ Gods , Araya,” Serafina whispered as the door to the cell swung shut behind them, locking them inside. “What have you done?”

Araya stared down at Loren. He hadn’t moved, still sprawled awkwardly over the too-short cot. She couldn’t bring herself to look too closely at the cuts and burns crisscrossing his skin—but the smell of blood and blackened flesh clung to the air, inescapable.

“I—” She shook her head, unable to even speak the words aloud. She should have known—should have done something. If this had been a message for her from Hale...well, then it was all her fault, wasn’t it?

“Gods,” Serafina said again. She turned, tracing a silencing rune on the back of the door. Thyn spluttered, reluctant to take to iron without being inlaid, but held, sealing the outside world away from their conversation.

Serafina turned back to Araya, her green stare layered with disbelief, disappointment—and something far worse. Heartbreak. “If you want me to help him,” she said. “You’re going to start talking.”

Araya swallowed hard, guilt threatening to consume her as she stared down at Loren’s battered body. “I’ll tell you everything,” she whispered.