“Could we be serious for a minute and get out of these damned chains?” Hadley glared daggers at them both, my finger marks still bruised acrossher throat.
I tried to steady my breathing, focusing on the coolness of the stone pressing into my back.
“Commander Kragthorne said, ‘only truth can unmake what fear has chained’,” Orin recited.
“So, we just need to say something that is true, and we will be free?” Roman asked.
Orin shrugged but looked hesitant. “It seems too easy.”
“I’ll go first,” Riven said with a shrug. “I am devilishly handsome.” He held up his wrists, staring at them, waiting for them to unclasp.
Riven’s eyes rolled back. He slammed to the ground like a puppet, the chain protruding from the wall groaning with the effort. His muscles spasmed so violently I thought his bones would snap. Then he stilled, gasping like he’d been drowned. It stopped as suddenly as it began. Riven wheezed as he rolled into a half-seated position. “Oh. That fucking sucked.”
“I told you you’re not as handsome as you think,” Dreya snorted. He placed a hand over his heart and frowned at her.
“Someone willing to try an actual truth?” Dreya asked.
“I didn’t really want to be an Iron Guard,” Roman mumbled, staring at the ground in front of him. He gritted his teeth as his head lolled against the stone, legs shaking violently. He gasped as it ended, looking at Riven. “You weren’t wrong, that sucked.” Sweat beaded against the bronzed skin despite the cold.
“Was that actually true?” Hadley whispered. Roman nodded once. “So perhaps the answer is not just any truth.” Hadley moved to her knees, excitement flittering over her pixie-like features. Orin tilted his head, eyebrows drawn.
“What fear has chained…” he muttered.
“Our fears,” she finished. “They want us to bare our weaknesses.”
Bile rose in my throat.
“I fear that I’ll keep failing the people I love.” Orin braced, but nothing happened. His shackles groaned. My heart ached, a mere echo of the pain I had felt when he left me.
“They loosened!” He beamed.
“Wow, that was deep man.” Riven raised an eyebrow at him and Orin glared.
Bohdi hung his head, blond strands that had been tucked behind his ears slipping in front of his face. “I’m fearful that someone else will die because of me.” His shackles groaned and released. He said nothing as he rubbed at his wrists absently.
“You were just a kid, Bohdi. It wasn’t your fault,” Orin said. Bohdi gave him a tight-lipped smile and looked away. I didn’t need to be an empath to feel his pain.
“I fear that I won’t develop a Sanctum,” Hadley said. Her shackles groaned.
“I fear I will fail as this squad’s leader, that I’ll mess up the first responsibility I’ve been given.” Orin’s shackles crumbled, he glanced around the room at each of us.
“Come on, guys,” he said. “I know its uncomfortable. But the quicker you come out with your fears, the faster we win. Hurry up.”
Roman sighed and tipped his head back against the stone. “I’m fearful that I’ll die before I can avenge my brother. He died in the Fae realms at their hands. He was thrown back through the gate in pieces as a warning.” Roman glared at his shackles. They groaned, loosening but not letting go. “Fine! I am fearful of the Fae,” he whispered angrily.
The shackles exploded. He stood, brushing the stone debris off his pants. “This is a stupid game.”
“Agreed,” Riven said.
“I fear I will die, and my family will starve in the slums.” Dreya spoke directly to the stone cuffs, ignoring us all. They groaned. She raised her eyebrows, surprised they hadn’t released her. “I worry I’m not good enough to make it,” they groaned again. “I fear the return of the Gods.” Stone debris exploded over her, and she adjusted her dark brown braids, completely unbothered that she had just shared something vulnerable to a room of strangers.
“That is your only fear that makes sense,” Riven said lazily. The orange torch light flickering over his smirk. “If they come back, they will be merciless.”
Dreya’s eyes cut to me, lingering for a moment too long and filling with weariness, as if she were seeing me differently in the torchlight. The look unsettled me more than it should have. I didn’t know what she saw when she looked at me, only that her gaze carried the weight of suspicion I didn’t understand.
“We need to hurry up,” Orin said, pacing the small area like a trapped animal.
“I’ve always feared that people don’t actually like me,” Hadley rasped, her voice still croaky from my hands squishing her windpipe. Her shackles broke free.
