Page 4 of Echoes of the Raven
Calierin puts more pressure on the dagger. I feel the strain in my eyeball as it gets pushed back. My exhales come out unevenly, and I hate that they give away my fear.
“Leave, Calierin,” Rífíor orders.
“Why are you being soft on her? If this amulet is capable of what you say, we don’t have time for this.”
“Leave,” he insists.
“We’ve been trapped in this godsforsaken realm long enough, andwe—”
“LEAVE!”
Her hand trembles, revealing her rage and causing the tip of the dagger to widen the wound it has already opened. A whimper sounds in my throat. It takes her a couple of beats, but she finally pulls away, sheathes her weapon, and leaves the alcove.
Rífíor comes closer. Rífíor… this is his true name, not River and certainly not Bastien. It’s what Calierin calls him, and I can see why everyone in Castellina mistakes the pronunciation.
I call upon my will in order to hold his ferocious black gaze. By no means will I let him know he affects me in any way. The only thing I want him to know is that I hate him.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?” Rífíor says. “Loreleia, I mean.”
“Get my mother’s name out of your filthy mouth, bastardo!” My words are a low growl that makes me sound like a rabid dog. It’s what they’re turning me into, a feral creature that wants to bite and tear.
He squats, meets me eye to eye. The muscles in his forearms ripple. He interlaces his large hands, elbows resting on his knees.
Only four days ago, I was mesmerized by that gaze, feeling I could willingly fall into its depths. Now, I would tear out his eyes and feed them to Cuervo… if I was into letting Cuervo eat garbage.
Moving slowly, he sets one knee on the ground, leans forward, and reaches for one of my bindings. He is close, so close that I can smell him, a combination of sweat and the dankness of this place. Without breaking eye contact, he works on undoing my restraint. I hold his gaze, unflinching.
He glances down at my lips for a split second.
“I hate that I allowed you to touch me,” I sneer. “Every time I think about it, I want to throw up.”
“You thought quite differently when you were moaning under my weight, little princess.” He finishes undoing the rope and sits back on his hunches, putting some much-needed distance between us.
I scoot over toward my still-restrained arm, and nearly sob at the release of pressure in my shoulders.
Hiding my relief, I say, “I was stupid and naïve then. I’m quite a different person now, and I assure you, you inspire nothing but disgust in me. Those memories repulse me.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “A shame, really, because if you ever get out of here alive,” he twirls his finger to indicate our surroundings, “you would eventually realize it is the best fuck you will ever have.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. One, Iwillget out of here. And two, my memories of you are so soured by reality that even my hand will be a better fuck than you ever were.”
Rífíor throws his head back and laughs. “What a naughty princess you have become, Valeria Plumanegra.” His laughter ceases abruptly. “But I’m not here to talk about our little lamentable tryst.”
“I know that. Clearly, you’re here to get your kicks while your lackey tortures me.”
He shakes his head. “I have no interest in your suffering or anything else about you. This entire realm and all its inhabitants can go up in flames for all I care. There’s only one thing that matters to me, and it’s The Eldrystone.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I embrace the certainty of his words. Rífíor would not hesitate to reduce Castella to ashes if it meant securing Niamhara’s conduit for himself. Yet, it is precisely this understanding, coupled with my ability to thwart his desires, that makes all the pain worth it—gratifying even.
“That is why,” he continues, “I’ve decided to tell you why it is so important to me, why I need it, and why I did what I did.”
“You did it for the same reason as Orys. You did it because you want its power.”
He shakes his head. “No. That is not the reason, Valeria. But I understand if you can’t see past your own shortcomings, past your own greed.”
Rífíor insists on saying that, but greed has nothing to do with my desire to keep the amulet. Only revenge does.
He goes on. “The reason I want it, the reason Ineedit, has nothing to do with a hunger for power. Far from it, and I think it’s time I tell you everything.”
