I know what potion she's talking about.
The one that had Elodie rushed to the medical center in an attempt to leave.
“I’m sorry, Ocean,” Elodie whispers, and sheshakes her head, a heaviness weighing on her shoulders.
“It didn't work how I wanted,” she breathes. “That's when I learned the effects weren't everlasting, as I had hoped.”
Elodie pulls her into her arms in a tight embrace as I exhale slowly, giving them a moment as Kael and Thorne remain silent but angry to my right. I work my jaw as I wait for her eyes to find mine again.
I inch a little closer, making sure her eyes are set on mine before I speak. “I vow it, Ocean. I'll bring you his head.”
Anger courses through my veins as I reach for the door handle, and nobody stops me this time. I make quick work of stepping into the small passageway that holds six steel doors positioned closely together.
There’s only one thing waiting on the other side of them.
Prison cells.
I hear the lock click behind me, confirming I'm alone, and I let the isolation fuel me as I trudge to the first cell on the left, just as Kael’s mother instructed.
I appreciate the fact that no one has insisted onjoining me in here. It's bad enough that Ocean has seen him. I refuse for Elodie to lay eyes on the motherfucker that I have the unfortunate reality of calling my father. He reflects where I came from, and I’m no longer that person.
My mind threatens to drift down memory lane, but that’s the last thing I need.
Not now.
Not today.
Not ever again.
Rolling my shoulders, I settle my attention back on the space before me. It's strange how you envision prison cells to just be bars, but in here, they're even more confined. The only bars visible are those wedged into a small square frame that acts as a window between the two spaces.
I don’t move a step toward him without dipping my free hand into my pocket, feeling the weight of the key Kael’s mother gave me. She didn’t even bat an eyelid when I proclaimed what I wanted, and I’m sure my intentions were clear in my eyes. If anything, I saw a burning flicker of appreciation in her gaze as she placed the small, intricately cut metal in my palm.
Spinning it in my hand, the world freezes as I aim it at the lock awaiting its missing piece. Thebrush of metal on metal vibrates through my bones as it clicks into place, and I exhale, my breath rushing from my lungs before the creak of the key turning echoes through the area. Adrenaline courses through my veins, and I waste no time stepping inside and closing the door behind me.
The space is just as sparse as it is outside. Four plain walls, each with the same damp brick. There's no window, and the only door is firmly behind me. All it has to offer in here is a flimsy camp bed and a toilet in the corner, with a small light fixed to the ceiling, casting a dull glow over the small area.
The figure in the room is seated on the camp bed, feet planted against the ground with his arms resting on his knees. He’s hunched over, but there’s no whisper of fear in his composure. It’s almost… boredom. He doesn’t bother to lift his head as I fill the space, no urgency to check on what I’m assuming is an unexpected visitor, but the tension is palpable. It’s almost as if he’s downplaying the strength that we both know he has.
When I don’t move, he sighs, tilting his face to turn my way, looking up at me through his lashes. My breath stutters at the sight of his features. His eyes are a deep, rich brown, his face holding no weight, making them look far more sunken than Iremember, while his nostrils flare in the exact same way they always have.
He frowns in confusion, sitting up a little straighter as he sneers. “Do I know you?” he grunts, and I snicker, the sound hollow.
“You're going to wish you didn’t.”
It’s a promise, but he doesn’t see the threat as he rolls his eyes, his lip curling in a sneer.
“I already had my torture this week. Fuck off,” he bites, and I remain in the exact spot, staring him down as my grip tightens on my axe. If he sees it, he doesn’t mention it, and when I don’t speak a word, he scoffs. “And they promised me no roommate. So if they think you're moving in here, they're wrong.” He shakes his head, slapping his hands on his thighs, and I grin.
“Don't worry, the place will be empty soon enough.”
I consider dragging this out, giving him an extra dose of torture like he deserves, but my body moves before I can make my decision, eliminating the distance between us in two strides.
Anger takes hold of me as I lift my axe, the sharp edge of the blades touching his chin as I tilt his head up, and his soulless eyes meet mine.
“You think death scares me, boy?”
I huff. “Feeling scared would require having a soul, and we both know you don't have one of those.” I watch, my heart racing as I spy the flicker of recognition wash over his face.
