That’s the first moment my magic burst from my palms, the first time I watched in horror as someone sank to their kneesbefore me, life draining from their face, leaving them gaunt. My gut twists at the thought. Everything has changed since then.
Or has it?
I may have begun to trust Kael since that day, but I didn’t when I first arrived, and despite how much I let my guard down around him, I’m back, and the trust is gone again.
One thing that definitely hasn’t changed is the sense of loss that weighs on me. Now more than ever. As I blink at the gothic building, a sense of belonging still doesn’t resonate inside of me.
Wiping a hand down my face, I exhale slowly, willing for a clear path to my next step to appear, but all that lies before me is the walkway to the institute.
Why did I come back here?
I shake my head, the anger inside of me growing stronger as I silently berate myself. I was so focused on hiding from Jude that I forgot the biggest betrayal of them all: Kael. My ears burn as my pulse throbs in my ears, every emotion I feel turning into burning flames dancing in the rage that consumes me.
He’s probably on his way to retrieve me for his brother right now. I’m sure of it. If not, I’m sure he’ll be a step behind me, waiting to gather further information for The Sanctum, as Anya revealed. I hate how much pleasure she took in exposing his truth, but instead of getting mad at her, my frustration lies with him and me.
My head spins with the possibilities of what’s to come. They’re endless, and undeniably out of my depth. I need to run, but I know I won’t get far.
Pressing my fingertips into my temples, I heave a sigh as I blink up at the overcast sky. Even the sun doesn’t want to be present for the carnage coming my way. Pursing my lips, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, and the second I do, a new sense of urgency claims me.
I don’t have to run. What I need is an outlet for the emotions churning inside of me. The moment I think the words into existence, my gaze snags on the building, forming a pit in my stomach as I recall what lies on the other side.
A door.
It’s not a magical door leading to a far-off world full of hope and excitement. It’s a dark, sinister door that leads to pain and destruction. Instead of taking the few steps up to the entrance and hurrying to my room, my feet carry me around the building, my steps slowing slightly as the flash of a memory comes to mind.
My father, bound and beaten at the hands of Kael and Rion. If what Thorne says is true, his role was to heal the captured man so they could unleash hell on him once again. It’s not the vision that plagues me; it’s the emotions that took root.
I didn’t give myself a chance to process anything in that room. I did what I do best: I ran. But now I know my emotions were not aimed at the right person or people; they will be next time. They will be now.
I reach for the door handle. Not a single breath of air parts my lips as it twists, unlatching a second later to reveal the dark and dingy staircase that leads down to my father’s prison.
Tension ripples through me as I leave the door hanging slightly ajar, my focus set on the stone steps leading me into what feels like the pits of Hell. It’s only when I reach the bottom, the second door appearing before me, that I manage to exhale, but the reprieve is short-lived as I recall the tingle of emotions that plagued me the last time I was here.
Before I can think better of it, I reach for the handle, but it doesn’t budge. Panic ensues as I desperately try to open the door, but it quickly becomes clear that it’s locked.
Fuck.
Dammit.
Taking a step back, the door is barely visible with the sliver of light coming from above. The obstacle that stands before me turns my chest into a raging inferno as my emotions collide with one another, but the core objective remains the same.
I have to get on the other side of this door.
Now.
Trying the handle again, it’s not really a surprise when it doesn’t budge, but it still continues to make me mad as a frustrated scream parts my lips. Slamming my palms against the door, my snarl is interrupted as a thunderous clap sounds around me. In slow motion, the door falls away from me, hitting the floor with a resounding thud.
My chest heaves as I blink in disbelief, the barrier no longer standing in my way. Running my tongue over my lips, I blindly reach for the swinging light switch, and the room quickly comes to life.
The dim light casts more shadows than it illuminates. My gaze falls to the center of the room, where a familiar figure is seated, bound to a chair in filthy clothes, and the stench of urine hangs heavy in the air.
His forehead crinkles as his eyebrows gather, his head lifting just enough for his gaze to capture mine. My breath stutters as I stare at the beast before me, and for the first time in my life, when it’s just the two of us, I’m not the one in the compromised position.
Slowly, he sits up straight in his chair, a hiss parting his lips as he grinds his teeth together, but he manages to keep his composure as he glances around the room. It takes him a moment to understand it’s just me, and I watch as a familiar grin spreads across his face.
He’s celebrating a victory before he’s even been declared the winner.
“Elodie, thank God,” he grumbles, rolling his wrists, but instead of easing his muscles, it simply grinds his skin against the bindings. “Untie me,” he commands, and his words kick me into action. Yet my feet don’t carry me toward him, but off to the right of the room where the wooden workbench is pressed against the wall. A ragged cloth is rolled out along the wood, housing an abundance of tools, each one more blood-stained than the last.
