Page 25 of Owned By the Fae
He jumps a little as if he didn't expect that.
‘I couldn’t see properly down there. I knew they’d tortured you … but I didn’t realize it was as bad as this.’
He looks away again. ‘I'm sorry for not helping you, for leaving you down there. I should have?—’
‘What should you have done?’ I pat his hand. ‘You did all you were able to, and there’s nothing you could have done about the rest of it. Don’t torment yourself. Besides, if not for you, I wouldn’t be alive,’ I say quietly.
He stares down at me. ‘I know what you did,’ he finally says. ‘I was there when the keep went up in flames. I knew he was angry and that he sent many to search for you. I thought youdeserved to be punished for it. Most who were here then believe the same, but I didn't think he'd …’ He can't say the words. ‘Varrik saved me, you know? He saved most of us. From death and harm, from dark places, from slavers and monsters.’
He turns and sits on the edge of the bed, staring out the window, looking conflicted.
I know better than to say anything. If Jak’s zeal is going to diminish, it has to on its own just as mine did when I began to see the truths behind Varrik’s lies. Instead, I try to shift in the bed to get more comfortable, but my body revolts, and I must let out a sound because he turns around with concern on his face.
‘I was ordered not to heal you again,’ he says quietly, his jaw ticking. ‘After I fixed your ribs in the dungeon … They’ll be able to tell from the magick on you if I do more.’
He shakes his head, closing his eyes, clearly at war with himself.
‘It's all right,’ I say. ‘I already feel better.’ I pat his hand again. ‘This isn't the first time, and I didn’t have your help at all before.’
I let out a sigh and it turns into a wracking cough. The rattle I’ve been noticing in my chest over the past few days has begun to worry even me and he frowns. He puts a hand on my body.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘I’m allowed to fix something that could kill you. I’ll tell them it was a serious lung malady if I’m asked. It’s not truly a falsehood. That cough will get much worse.’
I feel the rush of magick, and his hands warm above my skin. I grunt as I feel my lungs tingle. The bruises and scrapes and everything else remain, but my lungs are clear, and breathing at least no longer hurts.
‘I can't do any more than that,’ he whispers.
‘You'll be punished if you do,’ I agree. ‘I know you don’t think you helped, Jak, but, truly, I survived because of you.’ I hesitate. ‘And so did the Harbinger. It won’t forget.’
He lets out a soft chuckle. ‘Is that a good thing?’
I grin and close my eyes. ‘Time will tell.’
The door opens, and I assume it's a guard until I hear a low laugh, and my body stiffens. It's not Grith, and for that, I'm grateful, but Rikoth is almost as bad.
‘Get out,’ he says to Jak, who gives my hand a final squeeze where Rikoth can’t see and leaves the room quickly.
Rikoth comes and stands over me. I don't bother to cover myself. He's seen my body countless times. It doesn't stop his eyes from moving over it, though. They rest on the worst of the bruising, and his lips turn upward. There’s nothing in his gaze but malice and revulsion.
‘Get up,’ he orders. ‘Gods, you stink. Haven’t you bathed since you were released?’
Remembering Ryon, Varrik’s unknowing hostage, I ignore his comments and attempt to do as I’m told. I struggle to sit up and move my legs slowly over the side of the bed to stand. I have to hold on to the bed itself for a moment, but now that I’ve rested and am a little bit healed, it's not impossible.
‘Stand in front of the mirror.’
I shuffle slowly across the room to the large, gilt looking-glass in the corner. Rikoth’s imposing figure stands behind me, and I watch his eyes travel over the whip marks, the burns, and all the bruises and cuts that mar my skin.
‘They really did a number on you down there,’ he murmurs, his eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. ‘Have you been given the news? Did the guard fill you in? Tell you what is going to happen next?’
I shake my head, dread coiling inside me.
‘I’m the elite you've been given to,’ Rikoth sneers, his expression morphing into one of pure disgust.
‘Congratulations to the both of us,’ he spits. ‘Gods only know how I'm going to lie with you. But it’s been ordered, so I'll find a way to get you with child as Varrik wishes.’
I stare at the floor. ‘When?’ I ask quietly.
