Page 130 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
***
“Fine, we cannot contact your father, but I have coin. I can get us on a ship. Please, Zaib, at least let me try to get you out of here.” Dante was on a tangent again. Zaib did not have the energy to argue with him.
Over the months, Zaib had grown to trust Dante. In that time, Dante had lost his faith in his rulers—in his parents.
“There are no ships that sail to Eoforhild anymore. No one even knows it is called that now. I would need to portal, which would mean waiting out the poison in my body and breaking free of these blockers on my wrists.” They had discussed all of that before, but Dante was growing increasingly more unsettled. She wished she was brave enough to admit she loved him. But to tell him that was to lose him. There was no way he felt anything but pity for her. She had been too scared to check his mind when they forced him to drag her to the torture chamber they called the interrogation room. Better to remain in blissful ignorance.
“Zaib,please,”he begged again. Zaib rolled over in her bed, facing the wall instead of his heartbreakingly perfect and hopeful face.
***
“Zaib,” Dante said, his breath fanning her face. She awoke slowly, her newly healed body still aching and unfamiliar. Her eyes fluttered, catching sight of his gray ones, a smile on his face. He held up a cupcake, a single candle stuck in the blue frosting. “Happy birthday.”
“I forgot I explained those to you,” she mumbled with a grin,pushing herself up to a sitting position. He beamed down at her, moving to sit on her right.
“Well you did. Now blow out the candle and make a wish like the bizarre little demon you are,” he ordered, a laugh in his voice. Zaib laughed too, but soon she closed her eyes and wished for something she knew she could never have. As her lips puckered and air blew out through them, Zaib dreamed not of freedom, but of Dante being hers.
“What did you wish for?” he asked, his scent enveloping her. She opened her eyes, realizing how close he had gotten. And whether it was the fact that she was quickly approaching fifty years in the low level room or her own growing desperation she did not know, but Zaib leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
***
“Zaib, this cannot go on. If you refuse again then I will drag you back to Eoforhild kicking and screaming. You will not fucking rot away in here any longer!” He had been screaming for a while, pacing throughout the room. Panicking really. Zaib was unnaturally calm, though it had always been Dante that was the more fiery of the two. Still, she was too motionless.
Inside of her, the little one was the opposite.
“Dante, I have to admit something to you,” she finally said, catching his attention. He looked at her, brows furrowed. When she did not immediately speak, Dante’s eyes went wide and he rushed towards her.
“Are you unwell? Is this about you vomiting so much at the beginning of last month? I thought you said you were better!” Zaib smiled ruefully, wishing she had better news.
“I have not bled,” she said.
His brows rose, lips tilting down in a confused frown. “Yes well, that is the point of ensuring they do not torture you anymore, Zaib.”
“No. I mean I have not had my monthly bleed.” Her voice was calm. She had been stewing in this for far too long to be anything but resigned. But she watched as Dante began to understand, as horror stretched his face and reddened his cheeks.
“How late is it?” he asked, the terror in his voice and painting the air making tears well in Zaib’s eyes.
“Four months.”
***
“Okay, we can stop here for the night. Tomorrow we will be at the very edge of Isle Element and we can try to get those blockers off,” Dante said, kissing Zaib’s forehead and placing his hand firmly on her stomach. Over the last few weeks she had begun to swell, though the fae king and queen had not yet figured out she was with youngling. By the time Dante finally freed her, it was too late for them to discover the truth.
Zaib grabbed his cheeks, lifting his face to bring their lips together. He smiled into the kiss, his hands wrapping around her neck softly. “Marry me, Zaib.”
She chuckled, but without hesitation nodded. “I love you.”
As she often had been, Stella was nearby, watching the scene unfold. For the last few decades, she had watched in horror and devastation as her descendent was harmed. All the while, the sound of the Oracle’s warning to not interfere until the great loss echoed in her head. It had not happened yet. The fae had said she would feel it, and the fallen empress had not yet experienced the unequivocal sense of surety.
When she caught sight of Zaib’s brother, Malcolm, appearing within a cloud of shadows just behind the happy couple, Stella thought the time might have finally come.
***
“Please, stop!” Zaib screamed, trying to convince Malcolm to cease his relentless attacks on Dante. They were back in the low level room, but this time, she was chained to the wall, forced to watch as the love of her life was brutally beaten.
“He is a disappointment and a traitor, he must be shown no mercy,” the golden queen hissed into Malcolm’s ear, encouraging him to continue. And he did, stomping and punching at Dante until Zaib wondered how he could possibly not be tired.
When he did slow, he grabbed Dante by his collar and dragged him to her bed, dropping him halfway onto the mattress. Zaib looked into her brother’s eyes, unable to understand the darkness that lay beneath his skin. Different than the shadowy magic of the moon. No, this was an evil and wicked thing.
