Page 34 of Court of Lies and Deceit

On my other side, Draven has been shackled with manacles and chains around both his wrists and ankles, as well as around his waist and neck. But the iron does nothing to suppress his magic, so a furious lightning storm is raging outside the wall of iron bars that separates our cell from the rest of the underground prison. The two guards who were stationed there fled up the steps a few minutes ago, but it unfortunately still doesn’t help us escape.

Lyra and Galen, who are similarly shackled, yank uselessly against their restraints.

I draw in a long breath, trying to muster enough strength to lift my arms. The iron burns cold against my skin where it is clamped around my ankle. If they had shackled us fae the way they did Draven, we would all probably have been unconscious by now.

A sudden urge to laugh pulses through me. It’s so intense that I have to press my lips together to stop myself. But the absurdity of it all is staggering. Am I actually feeling grateful to those damn soldiers for only shackling me with a little iron instead of rendering me unconscious? Mabona’s tits, if the bar falls any lower, it will be beneath the floor.

The door at the top of the stairs opens.

Draven immediately lets his storm magic fade. Better to draw the person down the steps and then knock him out with a lightning strike. That way, we might somehow be able to reach a pair of keys.

Footsteps echo between the dark stone walls.

Tilting my head back, I find a pair of spotless black boots descending the steps. Once again, I try to muster enough strength to stand, but all I can do is to raise my chin as the Unseelie King saunters down the stairs and comes to a halt outside the bars to our cell.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls.

A bolt of white lightning zaps through the air.

It passes through the space where Orion was standing a fraction of a second too late and slams into the wall on the other side of the room. Dark storm clouds immediately start gathering again as Draven summons his full power. But right before another lightning bolt can split the air, Orion raises his hand and holds up something that looks like a short metal rod. It starts glowing faintly at the same time as Orion’s eyes begin glowing.

Draven jerks back and sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth. The churning storm clouds evaporate in a flash.

“Oh, you recognize this, I see,” the Unseelie King says, waving the little metal rod in the air.

I gasp as I finally realize what it is.

Whipping my head down, I stare down at my own clothes. At my belt. Where that piece of dragon steel used to be tied before I fell off Draven’s back and almost died from the ice flames. In the chaos of it all, I forgot that I had tied it to my belt before we escaped from the barracks.

“Yes, Haldia took it from you while she healed you,” Orion says, as if he could read my thoughts. “Very careless of you to leave something so powerful unattended like that.”

Dread and shame wash over me like cold waves. Because he’s right. How could I have forgotten about something so important?

Orion’s eyes continue glowing as he shifts his gaze back to Draven. Still holding the also glowing piece of dragon steel in his hand, he levels a stare full of threats and challenge on Draven.

“All I need to do is to touch you with it,” he declares. “And then you belong to me.”

Draven clenches his hand into a fist but says nothing.

A vicious smile spreads across Orion’s face. “So keep your lightning to yourself.”

The silence thrums around us as the two of them stare each other down. Draven doesn’t drop his gaze or lower his chin, but he also doesn’t summon any more magic. Amusement sparkles in Orion’s eyes, and he seems to consider Draven’s behavior an admission of defeat, because he stops channeling magic through the dragon steel and instead spins it lazily in his hand before lowering it again.

“You treacherous fucking backstabber,” Isera growls from the wall to my left. Chains rattle as she tries to stand up, but she just collapses back down on the floor. Fury crackles in her eyesas she locks them on Orion. “We had a deal, you piece of shit-stained vermin.”

I gasp as the dungeon disappears from around me.

Instead, my parents’ kitchen once again appears before my eyes.

Panic and dread flood my chest as I once more hear myself apologize for breaking the glasses. My chest tightens so hard that I can barely breathe as I am yet again forced to watch, second by second, how the look in my parents’ eyes changes. How that deep resentment blooms in their eyes until it fills their entire faces. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the vision doesn’t change, because in the memory I’m forced to relive, my younger self is still watching it happen. A sob threatens to rip from my throat as I hear myself begging my parents not to hate me.

Halfway through a sentence, the memory is suddenly ripped away.

I gasp in a breath as the cell around me comes back into view. A tear slides down my cheek. Goddess above, why did he have to show me that day again? There have been many days like that one. So many that I didn’t even remember this specific one. But now that I’m being forced to relive it, I know that this is by far the worst one. That look in their eyes, that pure resentment that starts growing in their eyes, makes me want to rip my heart out.

Once more, I try to lift my arm. I want to clutch at the fabric of my shirt to stop the pain in my chest, but I’m still too weak from the iron.

Next to me, Isera is curled up on the floor, her entire body shaking. She drags in a breath before raising her head. Her eyes are wild as she meets Orion’s gaze. But before she can say anything, he does.

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