This is how it all ends. Not in the warm light of Solari’s glory, but in a dungeon, cold and dark.
Without windows, it’s hard to accurately gauge the time. I know my bones ache from the strange positions I’m forced to take, and I know I’ve voided in the corner of my cell at least twice, but beyond that, I have no frame of reference. My connection to the Sun God is cut off, so I can’t even use that to mark the passing of time.
A dim light punctures the darkness, and a guard appears—not one of the ones loyal to me—carrying what smells like moldy bread and leather. He tosses the bread on the floor of my cell, right next to where Sable lies, and soon after a water skin flies through the air, landing next to the bread.
“Here you are, fucking traitor. You can share with your lover.” Derision is thick in his tone, and he chuckles.
With that he leaves, taking the torch with him, and the dungeon cells are once again plunged into blackness. I stay put, starving but stubborn, refusing to go near Sable just for a bit of food and water. Silence drags on, until she whines again.
“If you can reach it, you can have it. I’m not hungry.”
It’s a lie, but I’m not about to cave to famine and go near that beast.
Another whine, and I hear her chains rattle. The water skin scrapes on the floor, followed by the soft whisper of the bread. If I had to guess, I’d say she was reaching through the bars and pushing the food towards me.
“Not going to work,panther.” I huddle farther into the corner. “You have no hold over me anymore.”
She huffs, then falls silent.
The next guard comes some time later, heralded by the ringing of chains. Two prisoners by the sound of it. Sure enough, he appears with Hugh and Sym in tow, and they’re dumped in the cell on the other side of me. I move so my hands are by the bars, and I shove my fingers through. Hugh shuffles over and laces his fingers with mine. Sym remains in the center of the cell.
I wait until the guard leaves before speaking, not wanting to give him any ammunition in the case I’m sure Corvin and the Elders are building against me.
“What happened to you two? Surely they didn’t throw you in here just because you followed my orders?”
Hugh squeezes my fingers. “No. We resistedtheirs. The Elders have appointed Corvin as the de facto leader, though it seems he’s just a puppet. They dictate, he parrots their words, and changes are made.”
“What else would we expect from Kryos’s grandson?” My words are laced with bitter acid.
“Perhaps if you’d stayed the course and married Kryos’s grandson, we wouldn’t all be in this mess,” Sym grumbles.
“Sym!” Hugh’s fingers disappear from mine, and I hear shuffling and chains. “How can you say that? Cara has been our friend since we were pups. Surely you don’t believe things are better with the Elders back in charge.”
“Things were better when we weren’t chained.”
A tear slips down my cheek at Sym’s hurtful tone. I could have tolerated derision from anyone except him. “Sym, I didn’t know—”
“Shut up,Suntouched. It doesn’t matter if you knew or not. You started an uprising, and we were all fools to get caught up in your rebellion.” More clanking of chains, moving farther away from the sound of it. Sym seems to be taking up a position much like mine, as distant from the source of his aggression as the cell walls would allow.
“Sym …” Hugh’s voice is full of anguish, and I worry that I’ve caused an irreperable rift between the two mates.
My head hangs in shame, though no one save Sable can see it in the dark. “I’m sorry, Hugh. It was never my intent to cause strife for the two of you. For anyone. I just … I was so sick of the manipulation and control. I wanted to bring a peaceful order to things, not—not this.”
“I understand, Cara, but what’s done is done. No amount of apology will change it.”
His words aren’t filled with the poison of Sym’s tone, but they sting nonetheless.
“Was I wrong to want autonomy, Hugh? Was I wrong to want to rule with my own vision, free from their corruption and influence?”
The pause after my words is so long I think he didn’t hear me.
“You weren’t wrong in your intent. What was wrong was the execution.”
Sym scoffs. “Funny you should phrase it that way, my love, seeing as how our execution is likely on the horizon.”
I don’t have anything to say to that, and the silence that follows deafens me.
Chapter 17
