Page 135 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
“Tell me, Everinne.” His footsteps echoed through the bleak dungeon, scraping the stone walls with purpose. “What did you learn from our dear friend Alevka?”
She cringed, unable to bring herself to look him in the face. Her eyes remained cast downward, where the rough, dampfloors were coated in moisture, where she caught glimpses of his towering reflection in dark puddles.
“They…they’ve discovered a new stone at the mines.” Her voice grated against her own ears, hoarse and husky. “They sparkle like a midnight sky caught on fire and are worth far more than the rubies. Miners have been stealing them, guards have been beating them for it.”
Pressing her back into the cold wall behind her, she let it catch her weight as her knees weakened. The words shuddered out of her. “And there’s a sinister kind of magic lurking in the mountains. Something demonic.”
“Mm, nightfall diamonds. Quite rare indeed.” Kralv Oldrich heaved a sigh. “Pity.”
Her gaze darted to him.
“That was information I already knew.” He lifted a shoulder in feigned nonchalance and waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “I suppose I didn’t need your help after all.”
“What?” she rasped, disbelieving. “You…you had me torture her for no reason. You knew she had nothing to hide. You did this on purpose.”
The kralv’s mouth twisted into a hideous smile. He patted her cheek twice, ensuring the second smack stung.
“Nomilazk, you did this. It was your power. Your control.” His hand fell away, and a look of smug superiority settled over his hardened face. “You did this all by yourself.”
“No.” Everinne shook her head, plastering herself against the wettish stone. “No, no,no.”
But no matter how many times she spoke the word, it didn’t erase the truth glaring at her from the dungeon’s floor. All those nightmares that haunted her, the ones she drove away with endless late nights and copious amounts of alcohol, came flooding back with a vengeance.
Callum’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, his warm brown eyes turning violent and murderous. She would never forget the fiery pain of his dagger as it plunged into her side, or the way he yanked it out with wild cruelty, only to aim for her heart next. His hand was locked around her throat, his touch cold, his grip tight. He’d made it impossible to breathe, even more difficult to fight him off, as shock and utter devastation injected fear into her veins. If she didn’t fight him, she would die at his hand. Scarlet stained her clothing and bed, the metallic tang of her own blood filling her nose. Tears spilled down her cheeks as her magic ravaged his mind, as intense spasms of pain ricocheted through him.
Even with her heart breaking, even as tiny rivers of blood spilled from his ruthless eyes, she would never forget the words he whispered into her ear with his dying breath.
I will find you, temny feya. And I will end you.
Temny feya.
Dark fae.
Indistinct voices floated above her as the nightmares of her past consumed her.
“Get her out of here.”Disgust dripped from the kralv’s tone, but Everinne was too far gone to care.
She crumpled to the ground, her vision fading until there was only the penetrating darkness of her own mind, and the more she stared into its void of nothingness, the more she swore it was staring back. The scent of midnight lilacs was heavy here, the heady florals caused her veins to pulse and her head to pound. There was also a disturbing kind of silence, interrupted rarely, and only by her own disembodied voice. Self-doubt crawled through each crevice of space, carving out what remained of her confidence. It was a kind of personal sabotage, the way she so quickly turned on herself. The way her heart so easily bought into the lies her mind told her.
Temny feya.
Temny feya.
Temny feya.
The darkness attempted to swallow her then, slowly coiling around her arms and legs like the vines of deathroot, meant to suffocate her.
Everinne choked out a sob and her magic pressed in on her, cocooning her in ribbons of silky black and violet, barricading her from her intrusive thoughts until the nightmares, until the horrors of her past, could no longer reach her.
She pulled her knees to her chest, scraping her teeth along her bottom lip as her mind finally quieted. Only then did she try to speak.
“Atlas.”
With a tentative, featherlight touch, she reached for the bond, the invisible thread tying the two of them together through dreams and realms.
“Atlas,”she whispered again as a pinched breath escaped her tight lungs.
It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. It hurt to exist.
