Akamailost in a world that will eat her soul alive
CHAPTER ONE
DARKOVISH
“We are gettingthefuckout of here, Saya. In two weeks.” Jax sets his tray down across from me in the mess hall and sits, tearing into the hard bread. His eyes lock on mine, filled with unyielding determination.
I glance at the hard-boiled egg and cup of water still on his tray, then over at the Praised on my right. They sip fresh soup and cradle hot drinks. My tongue darts across my cracked lips while I take in the selection of packaged treats on their table.
Thickened, stringy saliva forms at the reminder of the taste of vanilla custard melting on my tongue. It has been a long time since I’ve had something so sweet.
With desire comes an undeniable rage. The Praised are laughing, happy in ways I used to be before I realised everyone in Darkovish was cattle.
Slaves to the nightwalkers.
Yet, in the back of my mind, I can’t shake the thought of being Praised again. The beds are cosier, blankets are thicker, and the meals are tastier.
My stomach grumbles, and I turn my focus to my own boiled egg, hard bread, and bottled water. I glance at Cole’s clean tray on my right and slip him my egg.
“That’s not long at all,” Cole says as he takes the egg with a small smile of thanks. “Are you sure this run will work?”
I bite into my bread, and crumbs scatter across the tray like ants after a splash of water near their nest. I glare at the tiny grains. A stubborn part of me resists the temptation to eat them, but the rumble in my stomach tempers my defiance as I remind myself this is all I have to eat until tomorrow morning.
As I pick at the crumbs, I say, “We lost three last time, and Cole tripped over his two left feet the time before. We’re not ready.”
Jax’s wild blue eyes widen as he spits out in fury, “You’re a month away from becoming leather!” He leans over the table, seizes my arm, and slides up the sleeve of my gown to expose the holes dotting my pale skin. “How many times did they try today? Eight?Ten?” Cold eyes rip away from the bruises, his voice even colder when he says, “You’re fucking giving double the amount of blood because Cole hasn’t bled in days for thosebloodsuckers.”
Bloodsuckers…The word doesn’t get any easier to hear, no matter how many times he says it. If only he knew he was looking directly at one. Well, part nightwalker and part vegodian—whatever that means.
I yank my arm away from Jax. “He’s my brother. I’ll do whatever it takes to meet their demands if he can’t. The Bleeders don’t seem to mind.”
Jax scowls down at his meal, and I turn to face Cole.My brother has his head buried in his food. After Jax’s outburst, he withdrew. With his fair hair falling forward, his hazel eyes gaze vacantly at his untouched egg.
Jax doesn’t grasp that Cole is still a kid, barely thirteen years old. We’ve been here for ten years, long before Jax arrived thinking he could run Darkovish. He figured it would be like Pyra and how Bleeders operated over there.
But no.
Instead of finding people who want to become Feeders—like they’re supposed to under Serun’s Law—the Bleeders in Darkovish take what they desire, and relish knowing they are higher on the food chain than us.
I turn my gaze from Cole to the table nearby. Emily and Manni sit with Dan, Julien, Bianca, and another Feeder. I never bothered to learn his name—is it Marcus?
Fuck. I’m sure it starts with an M.
Dan reaches for Emily’s bread, ready to snag a torn-off piece, but she is quicker. Emily grabs her tray and slides it towards Manni, giving her the food instead. Dan shifts in his seat, a mix of humour and annoyance, then teasingly flicks her hair.
Emily’s nostrils flare. She turns away but continues to steal glances at him. Her light brown hair shines golden in the sunlight seeping in from the courtyard as she stares longingly outside. Daylight will be gone soon, and the Bleeders don’t like us out after dark.
Emily nudges Manni, rousing her from her sleep-deprived state. Manni pushes her dark, unruly curls back and shoots a quick look my way. She offers the hint of a smile, the warmth lovely against her olive skin, but it fadeswhen her gaze lands on Jax. Her top lip curls, and she turns away.
All of them were stolen—forcibly taken from the streets by Bleeders while they were struggling to find food. Bleeders in Darkovish don’t give a damn about Serun’s Law. From what Jax told me, no one in the state of Darkovish gives a fuck about how Serun governs Naylen. They find the weak or lost souls in a crowded city and bleed them as livestock for theirgods.
Thenightwalkers.
Her fingers wrap tightly around my arm, and her lips graze my pointed ears as she hisses, “Hide them with your glamour.”
“Saya,” Jax says, pulling me away from my bitter thoughts. Jax reaches for my hand across the table. Blue eyes, once harsh, now appear earnest. “We’ve got this, even if it means stepping over everyone here. I promise we’re getting out.”
He has courage—more courage than anyone here. Most view this as a refuge, not a feeding pen.
