"Ptuh!You still have nothing to say? Huh?" His hand rearing back —thwap! —the noise of his palm connecting with Eiser's temple echoes loudly in the dank cell. "SAY SOMETHING!"
The Vellaran king offers no words, no pleas, nothing to explain himself.Not that I'd expected the cold and cruel man to do so — but I'd hoped… for Rorin's sake.
THWAP!
He clocks the opposite side of his father's head. His hand lands a little too low, hitting squarely against his ear. This timeEiser moans loudly, the first sound he's volunteered since our interrogations began. "Ruh-ror…" He rasps, shakily trying to pin his ear against the top of his shoulder.
"You hated me that much? H-how could you hate me thatfuckingmuch?! Because I wasn't what you wanted me to be?" He shouts, stepping back again to pace in front of him. "Well, look at me now, father!"
I pull my lip between my teeth, watching as the man I know… the patient, tender,gentleman unravels. I suck in a sharp breath, my nostrils burning, while the air in the room turns acrid. My eyes feel the sting next and instantly water. I jerk my head down to look at Rorin's palms.
The mist of his Wield is spilling out uncontrollably, his anger disturbing the hold on his abilities.
Our seal tethering us together begs for me to pull him back, pain coursing up my arm as his Wield threatens to kill both Eiserandme.
"Rorin. You have to come back."I try, afraid he may already be too far gone.I know the feeling…I think woefully as I struggle to cross the room, my legs feeling weighted down."Rorin — stop."
My hand stretches out towards him, mustering up what I can of my magic as I fight against him. A thin tendril Wields out, webbing over his hand to bind it.
His head dips down, looking at the restraint. His hazel eyes grow wide and lift to find me leaning heavily against the wall. "Nightmare…" he breathes, his magic knocking back into him. A strangled cough comes up as clean air fills my lungs, and Rorin rushes over to me as my knees buckle. "I'm sorry." He murmurs into my hair, holding me against his chest. "I'm so…"
"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm…"
Weakly, I slap his chest, seeing Eiser slumped over in the chair. Rorin lets out a hiss through his teeth, making sure I'm stable before stalking back over to his father.
A small rise of satisfaction rolls through me at seeing the king unresponsive, his son pressing two fingers against his pulse point.
"Lucky fucking bastard." He exhales, and my satisfaction fizzles out, the smile twitching at my lips tilting down into a frown. Slowly, he reaches down, untying his wrists and ankles before pinching his cheeks between his fingers. "Too bad I only knocked you out cold — it'd be better for you to be dead. Because, you see, I'm just getting started."
"It's been three weeks, Eveera."
"I know—" I answer, the two of us a bloody and sweaty mess as we make our way out of the dungeons.
"THREE WEEKS! And the most I get is a groan because he got hit? No remorse."
A sigh slips past my clenched teeth, and Rorin whirls around at the noise, his brow lifting. Frustrated, I drag my fingers through my hair, "did you expect him to? I know youwantedhim to, but…"
"No — Eveera," he snaps, "I wasn't expecting an apology. But I also wasn't expecting my fucking maker to sit there in silence, taking every hit, every blow as if it meant nothing to him. My father's never known silence a day in his life, and now? To take my punishments? To be forced into my shoes…nowhe suddenly has nothing to say?"
I rise onto his stair and back him into the curved wall, my hand resting on his chest. "We don't have to keep doing this. We can end this any time you want."
His head drops down, pressing his forehead into mine he grabs onto my hands. "I thought that if I took out my revenge and put him through the torture he forced me to endure, that it would break him, that it would—argh!"
“Would, what?"
"That it would miraculously undo the damage that he caused. I could be fixed if he just suffered as much as I did, and once I'd had my fill — I'd kill him."
Hurt flashes through his features, and I feel his heart begin to race. My right hand slides up the planes of his chest, reaching to cup his cheek. "You arenotdamaged. Certainly not any more than I am." A laugh slips past his lips, and he angles his mouth to press a gentle kiss on the inside of my palm. "Nothing about you needs fixing, Rorin." He nods subtly at my words, begrudgingly accepting them.
I rise onto my toes and guide his mouth down to mine. He lets out a low groan, his fingers dancing up and down my waist. "Not enough."
"What?"
His right arm bands around my waist, pulling me tightly against him and breathing me in. This time, he groans more audibly, nipping at my bottom lip, "I said— not. enough."
Any space between us dissipates as his mouth crashes into mine. Our lips move together in a way that feels like they are never meant to be apart.
The hunger behind it isn't just want — it'sneed.
