Page 6 of When Storms Ruin

“I cannot do any worse to you than Donika can herself. I simply came to deliver a warning. Donika gets what she wants, and she wants your family grimoire. I suggest you giveit to her,” Zion replied, meeting my cold stare through the iron bars.

“I will take yoursuggestionunder advisement,” I seethed. “You are her father, and I am sure the apple does not fall far from the tree.”

Zion swallowed hard before answering. “I loved your mother once.”

“And look where that got you,” I snapped back, grabbing the iron bars as I drew closer. Zion took a step back.

“You have your mother’s resilience, I see.” Zion’s eyes flashed with a long-forgotten memory as an expression of familiarity crossed over his face. It was as if he was seeing a ghost.

“My mother, who I will never get to meet because ofyour daughter. How can you defend her?” Did Zion seriously think I would simply hand over the grimoire after everything Donika had put us through? Because of the mention of a mother I never even knew? “I will never give Donika the grimoire. Whatever it is you have planned for us…give us your worst. You will have to kill me to get it.”

Zion laughed, the sound echoing off the cold concrete walls. I felt Tess’ warm presence join me, her hand against the small of my back. “That can be arranged. It’s as I thought…you are utterly and completely useless to her.” Zion gave us a cold sneer as he bent to pick up the lantern. “Two days. I suggest you be ready.”

Ready for what, exactly?

As I was about to open my mouth to ask, Zion turned without another word. I watched as he retreated down the corridor, taking every ounce of light with him.

“What did he mean ‘be ready.’ Be ready for what?” Tess asked, voicing my own thoughts.

“I’m not sure, Tess.” I swallowed hard as I met her gaze in the darkness. I was so, so tired. I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my gut that things were about to change, for better or for worse. “I do know one thing for certain…something is coming.”

Ihadn’t expected another visit for days after Zion left, so I was surprised when a batch of Nightshade guards descended the Stormvault steps the following day. They carried with them ash shackles that they bound us with, dragging us up the three steep flights to the throne room.

We were unceremoniously deposited onto the cold marble floor and kneed in the back until we dropped to our hands and knees before the throne.

Donika was nowhere to be seen.

A quick glance at the windows that lined the extravagant room let us know that it was nighttime in Akra. Whether it was early or late, I had no idea. The guards quickly retreated, leaving the large double doors unlocked in their wake. I inhaled deeply and leaned back on my heels.

We may have been taken out of the Stormvault to be questioned and tortured, but I appreciated any moment of fresh, clean air outside of that damp, dark cell. They hadn’t druggedus this time, which meant Donika wanted to talk. I had a nagging pit in the bottom of my stomach about Zion’s visit.

Two days.

What was going to happen in two days? Our execution?

Tess took a deep breath beside me and met my eyes. I wasn’t sure she could take another round of torture. The scars on our skin from Donika’s shadow magic were sure to be permanent at this point, never giving us a chance to heal before dragging us back out of our cells for another round.

The door creaked open behind us, and my heart jumped into my throat as I turned my head. Despite his betrayal, despite his absence, I still found myself hoping it was Nik.

I swallowed back that hope as Donika’s wolf form slunk into the throne room, her white coat stark against the dark night that surrounded us. Her face was covered in a blood red sigil that I couldn’t decipher the meaning of. I had memorized its curving lines and sharp angles to search my grimoire for its translation.

That is, if I ever saw it again.

I was sure it was something to do with black magic, or even blood magic. The sigildidresemble freshly painted blood, with dripping lines that trickled over her eyelids and down her muzzle.

She slunk towards the throne, her black wolves close on her heels. Her closest guards hadn’t left her side these past few weeks. As she ascended the stone steps to the dais, she slowly transformed into the beautiful nightmare that plagued my every waking thought. Her blue and white hair cascaded down her back in thick curls as she parted the black satindress she wore and sat, her black eyes meeting mine. A chill ran down my spine as her lips curved into a wicked grin. Those eyes were always deeply unnerving. They were as dark as obsidian, and endless.

Donika let a heavy pause fill the room as her guards encircled her throne, her eyes never leaving mine. Before she even spoke a word, her shadows crept out from her perfectly painted red fingernails, snaking across the floor towards me.

For a moment I was relieved that she hadn’t gone for Tess—worried that she wouldn’t be able to handle one more lashing—before the pain engulfed me.

I cried out, falling forwards. With my hands bound, I had nothing to catch myself with, and my head cracked against the marble floor before I curled onto my side. The pain of Donika’s shadows was all-encompassing, as if hot knives or razor blades pressed against my skin. My eyes remained open, but I saw nothing but the darkness of her shadows surrounding me.

My breath strangled in my throat as I tried to fill my lungs with air, but all I tasted was smoke and ash. Donika’s shadows were a million needles pricking my skin all at once, but piercing deep. I imagined the depths of hell weren’t even this dark and painful. Tess reached for me in the darkness and I cried out again, warning her away. I would sooner pass out from the pain than let Donika break me.

A sinister laugh filled my ears as Donika’s shadow serpents retreated, leaving me panting and glistening with sweat on the checkered floor. Tess grabbed my arm to help pull me back to my knees. I coughed as the fresh air of the throne roomstung my lungs, and I spit out a mouthful of saliva that tasted of bile and blood.

I met Donika’s eyes with my chin held high. I wasn’t sure I could take much more of her torture myself, but I hadn’t hit my breaking point.

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