Page 47 of Detonation
Serenity gasps at the name and Elizabeth squeezes my hand with a force I didn't think she possessed.
Elizabeth tugs on my hand. "Be careful. The longer you stay in connection with her, the more I see the darkness shrouding your soul. Do you have the information you need?"
I glance back to Serenity but she shakes her head at me. I look back to Elizabeth. "How do I break the connection? How do I get rid of this darkness?"
With a forlorn look on her face, she answers, “It’s a choice. You have to choose not to let the darkness in. Even when it seems easier. Even when it seems like your only option. You must deny those dark temptations that will whisper in your mind. Eventually, the connection will dissipate.”
With those words reverberating through me, I turn away from the dark witch, anxious to put as much distance between us as possible.
Our prisoner's voice rings out, chilling the blood in my veins. "Good luck with that. It isn’t as easy it sounds rejecting the call of the darkness, Hale."
How does she know my name?
"Erebus says he'll see you soon."
Chapter Fifteen
Lana
The guards shove me back into my room and I stumble to the stone ground, throwing my hands out to break my fall. I land with a grunt and my left palm comes alight with warmth. Blowing the strand of hair from my face, I lift it up for inspection, groaning at the sight of blood flowing freely from a cut on the bottom of it.
Great. This will probably give Anshar a fucking hard on and that's the last thing I want to deal with.Fucking scum.
I seethe in rage as he strolls into my room, hissing at him, "How fucking dare you?"
He unbuttons the end of his sleeves, ignoring my question completely, as if he's just getting ready for bed on a regular Tuesday night.
That woman's death deserves his acknowledgement. The pain and suffering he has caused to thousands of fae—it all deserves his acknowledgement. He’s destroyed the world he foolishly hoped to rule by my side.
For a brief second, I remind myself that I have no powers and that I need to be smart to make it out of here alive.
But fuck that and fuck him.
I lunge from my spot on the floor for the glass that remains at the entry table, curling my hand around it and turning to face him. He's tugging off his dress shirt, uncaring of my frenzied movements, and I take that moment to hurl the glass at him. He dodges it wordlessly, effortlessly, continuing to undress. The glass shatters to the ground, shards flying everywhere.
I go for the large decanter next, that’s been airing out a red wine, and throw the container at him, wine and all.
He has one arm out of the shirt by this point and lifts his forearm to the oncoming object, smashing it in the air on purpose. He removes his other arm from the shirt and throws it to the ground, a hint of anger showing on his face.
Rivulets of the red wine run down his bare chest, looking like he took a bath in blood. Fitting, seeing as he leaves death in his wake everywhere he goes.
I pant from the adrenaline surging through me. "How dare you think that you can just snuff someone's life out, whenever you feel the desire!"
His temper rises with my words and that’s when it hits me. I may not be able to hurt him physically but I sure as shit can get to him mentally.
I pull my shoulders back and raise my chin in disgust at him. "You think yourself a god? Think there are no consequences to your despicable actions? You're just a weak boy, incapable of getting past a rejection from over forty years ago. Pathetic." I spit at his feet.
"I am the closest thing you'll ever meet to a god, Oslana. I have been bestowed the powers I have from a dark god and I am a direct apprentice to him. Look at how easily your powers were snuffed out. Not even Gaia can help you now."
A dark god? What the hell is he talking about?
“Patheticanddelusional,” I scoff, trying to call his bluff, but I can’t deny that a seed of fear has planted itself in my head.
What if he’s being honest? What if he really has a connection to some god, like I do to Gaia?
A dark laugh bubbles up from him. “Oh, my beloved,” he says, shaking his head. “You’ll realize just how true my words are soon enough.” He strides over to me, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he reaches for me.
I feign fear as he comes closer and he smirks but when he’s within reach, I slam my bleeding palm into his nose, something from our previous life coming to mind. Hearing the crunch of his cartilage give way, I question, "Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
