Page 56 of Vines of the Underworld

You will suffer with me.

I’ve been living with the weight of these memories for twenty years. If someone or something is stupid enough to peek inside my head, they should suffer the consequences. I refuse to be a victim anymore.

The scorching tentacles of my pain lash out, twist around the fading entity, then squeeze. Tighter.

“Celeste! Celeste, snap out of it!”

I open my eyes and stare into the burning gaze of Dairell. His hair is matted with blood, and his black armor drenched in crimson.

“Celeste—” my breaths become more, even when he cradles me, warmth and care flashing beneath his thick black lashes, “How do you feel?”

The tremors recede, and the pain shrinks to a faint discomfort.

“What happened?” I rasp, my throat sore as if I was screaming for hours. Maybe I did. I blink around in confusion.

“I’ve never thought a mortal capable of this, Celeste,” awe ripples his voice, “you just destroyed a Siphon.”

It all makes sense now. The relentless grip on my mind, the feeling of being drained… And I managed to fight back. A sense of savage triumph flashes over me. Not only have I defended myself against a lethal magical entity, but I have also destroyed it. Made it pay for the suffering it caused.

It´s short-lived, though. Dairell shoots up to his feet and pulls me along.

“We need to get you to safety, Celeste. They’re everywhere.” I look around, yet there is nothing to see, just a sense of dread hanging heavily in the air.

“Cyrell…?” I dare to ask the question tormenting me since I returned to my senses.

The warmth in his gaze fades and his regal face turns into stone. “The traitor who set this up has been punished.”

In the distance, a slumped metallic figure and Cyrell’s motionless body leaned against it confirm my fears.

Tears wet my cheeks, yet there is no time to grieve for the lonely, strange, dark elf. I feel that eerie tingle in the air around us. More Siphons approach.

Dairell whistles. His enormous off-white stud appears from nowhere, and he leaps into the saddle with a superhuman grace. Powerful hands wrap around my waist, and he pulls me in front of him, molding his massive frame to my back. Cyrell’s blood soaks into the back of my dress while we gallop toward the castle.

Time blurs as the horse meanders between the thick vines, the magical wisps in the murky skies recede, and we move in almost complete darkness. I feel Dairell’s chin pressed against my cheekbone, his arms squeezing me so tight that I must fight for air. His glowing eyes are set at the horizon ahead, scanning for danger.

I can see the outlines of the massive gothic building just when the horse stumbles for a second time. The prince hops off the saddle, helps me down, and I stretch my legs with gratitude. Then he pats the neck of the animal and whispers some soft words in its ear. He turns to me when it disappears into the vines.

“We walk from here.”

My back is killing me, yet I keep up with his wide stride. Black Guardians rush to meet us.

Melancholy and fear consume me in the following days. I have experienced firsthand the suffering a Siphon can inflict. What if we become swarmed by these demons? What if they manage to drain me, to deplete my magic? Would I lose my mind, turn into an empty husk, or would they kill me on the spot?

How am I supposed to let three Fae males please me and reach the most intimate corner of my soul while I fear for my life?

I cannot get Cyrell’s warning out of my head each night as I toss and turn, restless in my bed. Gambling with your life… the plan will not work.

I share my fears with the prince over dinner one night. I haven’t seen him much in the last days, as he dedicates all his time to organizing the defense of the Sentinel. He is leading the drills to synchronize the Black Guardians with an army of dark elves who have joined our forces.

Dairell looks haunted. Something is eating him up. He stares at me when we are together with gut-wrenching sadness. He always looks away when I catch his gaze.

“I… I am not sure if I could reach out to my powers with so much at stake and such a danger around us,” I confess, poking at my food.

His black wings flinch, and he runs his fingers through his midnight tresses. “You are the most precious thing Faëheim has, Celeste. Me, Diaphonus, and Tarcyll will gladly give our lives to purge the Siphons. The magic in your body is in harmony with ours—we are the Serpent’s perfect match. Even in miserable circumstances like these, we crave each other. Trust the forethought of the Serpent, Celeste.”

I know there is more to his words, yet I am too afraid to ask. “Trust your instincts, little human,” he whispers, his eyes sparkling sapphires in the candlelight, “Whatever happens, don’t forget we are brought together for a reason.” The sudden need to close my eyes is so overwhelming that I immediately recognize the sleeping spell. Before I drift off, the last thing I see is his arms around me and the pain on his face.

I wake up in the morning feeling rested and calm. Ready to get it over with it and go home. A gentle knock on my door announces that it is time. The prince fills up the doorframe, dark circles framing his beautiful eyes.

---