“I’m not concerned about that. Do you want to know why?” He continues before I can tell him exactly where he can shove his thoughts, “Of course you do. It’s because you’re expendable. Disposable. They sent you here, knowing the risks, and they did not care.”
His poisonous words wrap around my chest. They constrict until I struggle to pull in a full breath of air.
It’s not the lie in those words that pierces me.
It’s the truth in them.
Expendable. Disposable. Outcast.Songbird.
“I’m afraid you’re mine now, sweet heart.” He speaks with genuine amusement, crouching down in front of me so that we’re eye to eye. “My little pet princess. If I must torture the information out of you, I will, and I can’t promise I won’t enjoy it.”
My lips curl back in a snarl. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“Many of my companions love that about me. You’ll learn to love it too.” With that, he turns to walk away.
“Keres, you can’t leave me here like this.”
He pauses in the doorway and glances over. A cruel smile mars his lips as he eyes me lasciviously. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone for long.”
The door closes behind him, the snap of the lock resounding through the room like the toll of a death knell. I collapse against the end of the bed, the collar digging into my skin with every movement. My hands tremble as I trace thegoiteíacarved into the metal again, the burning pain a cruel reminder of my vulnerability.
This was always a risk when the decision was made for some of our Flight to stay behind. It was a risk I accepted and planned for. But hope can be as toxic as fear, and I had foolishly thought we would get away with this.
Now that hope has burned away, replaced by bitter disappointment that tastes like ashes in my mouth.
Poison on my tongue.
The necklace Raven gave me hangs heavy where it’s hidden beneath my gown. The deadly dose of nightshade seems to heat within the delicate capsule, reminding me I have a different method of escape.
But I’m not willing to consider that option yet.
I’m not ready to give up.
I force myself to breathe deeply, drawing on the lessons of survival I’ve learned over the years. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced danger, and it won’t be the last. I think of Raven, of the goodbyes left unsaid. I think of the Flight, of the risks we took. I think of the gods, silent and distant, and wonder if they’re watching now.
The despair doesn’t last. It can’t. I won’t let it.
Cold fury seeps into my veins, burning through the fear and doubt. I will not be broken. Not by Keres. Not by anyone.
The gods themselves will have to rip my soul from my body before I’m done.
And they haven’t been seen for centuries.
“Why did you come toEretria?”
Jorah’s voice grates against my fractured mind, each clipped syllable tearing through the haze of exhaustion clouding my thoughts. His tone is as cold and unyielding as the blade he wields, and every word sends another stab of anguish to my already pounding head.
“To compete in the trials,” I answer, my voice hoarse and barely recognizable.
The blade drags across my already bloodied thigh. Achingly slow, the edge bites into my skin, drawing out the pain with deliberate precision. I don’t flinch, though every nerve in my body screams in protest.
“What are you planning with the weapon?”
“I know nothing about a weapon, and I’m getting really sick of your pointless questions,” I grit out, forcing the words past the lump of defiance clogging my throat.
The blade slices again, sharper this time, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. The taste of blood fills my mouth, metallic and sharp, grounding me.
“Where have they gone?”
