Page 12 of Between Despair and Hope

“Yes.”

Tears streamed down his face.

“Why?” My heart was breaking in two. How could he do that to me? He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His hand tightened around mine, even as I felt him behind me. His hand on my forehead pulled me back into his chest, his warm breath on my ear.

“I think I could have truly loved you, min viltasma. If only we’d had the time.”

Chapter 6

Rainier

Itwasthetenthday in a row I woke to ice-cold water being dumped over my body, and, gods damn, it did not piss me off any less. Declan had asked if I was cold, and I had stupidly told him no. I’d imprisoned my fair share of people; I’d known to expect what Declan would do to me, but I thought the water was a bit much. He insisted on speaking with me, or speaking at me rather, every single day, and that was torture in its own right.

One good thing about the water was the fact whoever was tasked to dump it rarely emptied it completely, leaving me something to drink. Otherwise, I remained thirsty. After those first days of not having any, the small amount I got from the bucket was enough it almost made the discomfort worth it. Barely. I wished he’d just kill me. What did I have to live for, anyway?

Elora was dead. I had felt it through the bond—from Emma. Her pain. I felt her die inside. I felt a piece of me shatter, knowing the only thing which would have caused that agony.

Our daughter was dead.

And her mother might be too. My Em.

Though I hadn’t felt that soul-splitting pain, the agony associated with a bond torn by death, I hadn’t felt her at all. I’d tugged on it before Declan knocked me out, and she wasn’t there. Ever since then, I’d been stuck in this basalt dungeon, divinity blocked by the lava rock. Would the pain be waiting for me the moment I got out? I’d rather be dead than feel it.

I didn’t have hope anymore. At first, in those early days when he’d had me beaten so severely I couldn’t see, I held onto that fierce dying ember. The inkling that Emma had lived. I’d seen that light on the field of tents and hoped whatever she did had killed and maimed and destroyed. It had to have been Dryul, the cause of those shadows and the cause of her pain. I’d been listening to anyone who might address Declan, hoping for the genuflection given to a king, but I hadn’t heard it. I supposed Declan might not expect those formalities, though it truly didn’t seem like him. It made me accept the real possibility that Dryul had not only lived, but he’d killed Emma too. He’d done something to disrupt our bond and killed her while I was unconscious. Had my soul gone through the bond with her? I’d been numb ever since I pulled on those golden threads and didn’t find her on the other end.

I was trying to protect her, to keep her safe. Declan seemed to think he was the Accursed, and I’d kept him away from her. When he revealed what he thought about himself and his plan to kill her, I rifted us away, relieved, even if it might have brought about my death. But had she died anyway? The gods were fucking bastards to bring her back to me like this, then rip her away from me. And to take my daughter too?

I had nothing left.

If I got out, what would I go back to? Two graves to water with my tears? That was if Shivani even attempted a rescue. I didn’t want her to. I wanted to keep my soldiers far away from Darkhold, wanted Declan to just end this torment. But that skinny fuck would not oblige me. When I heard two sets of feet walking down the hall, I sat upright. I knew how it worked by now. He’d send the ogre in to either beat me or pin me, and I was far too weak anymore to fight back. Without my divinity and the proper energy to do anything, the beatings rarely lasted long. Before, when I had attempted to fight, Declan’s lackey had thrown me so hard against the walls of my cell, I’d been dizzy with a headache for a week. I didn’t bother anymore. When he opened my cell, Declan’s face split into a toothy grin, unnaturally white and straight.

If I ever had any doubt, Declan Umbroth, King of Folterra, had proven to me that I could never be like him or his forefathers, and I had little hope for the future of our kingdoms.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. Did you sleep well?” He eyed the floor and the intentional lack of any sort of bedding, knowing full well I could barely sleep. The lava rock gave me a perpetual throbbing behind my eyes, and it made it hard to find comfort. The draíbea made it hard to focus though, so I was perpetually staring at a wall—unable to think or sleep.

I thought perhaps I’d take a different approach today with him. Normally, I didn’t talk, merely grunted, hoping it would discourage him from speaking as much as he did. But so far, he never seemed to tire of hearing his own voice. That was what made me decide to answer him today. Perhaps if I spoke to him, I’d get something out of it. Maybe if I pissed him off enough, he’d just snap my neck in a rage. The idea of luck being on my side in such a way brought a smile to my face.

“Fuck you.” I spat at him and was impressed by how close I got to his feet.

“My, my, Rainy. Is that how we’re feeling today?” It wasn’t the first time he called me Rainy, and it wasn’t the first time I vividly imagined disemboweling him.

“I’m feeling like you should just fucking kill me, and get it over with already.” Perhaps I should have attempted subtlety.

Oh well.

“And miss out on the fun? Your little shell arrived in Astana within the past few days. They’ve offered me a deal, and I’m deciding whether to take it. Do you think sending parts of you back to them will sweeten the pot for me?”

My stomach dropped, knowing what that would do to Emma if she’d made it out alive.

“I don’t know, Declan. What I do know is you’re a stupid fuck if you think Shivani is going to do much for you. What did you even ask for?” My mother might negotiate for me, but there was a limit to what she would do. She was ruthless, as my father had taught her to be, and she wouldn’t enter a war she couldn’t win. Not over me—not with Lavenia still alive. If Declan had Nythyr backing him too? Vesta wouldn’t stand a chance.

“I think it may surprise you what she will do. I have my eyes in your little palace, and something tells me Shivani may be more than willing to give me what I asked for.” He shut the cell door and leaned against it, crossing his legs and arms casually.

“Are you going to tell me, or is this just another excuse to hear yourself speak?”

“Well, since she cannot bring my father back to life, I asked for the next best thing.”

So, Em had killed Dryul. I felt a surge of pride despite the situation. My girl had done what she’d wanted to do, what I’d wanted to do for her for years. She’d done it. Of course she did. Something cold gripped my heart, squeezing tight. She’d done it; had she died for it too? Declan continued. “I’m not going to tell you what it is. It will be a pleasant surprise for you when it arrives.”

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