“I call it the Soul Chamber. It’s where I keep pieces or whole souls locked away.”
Oh…fuck.
Kyzen
17
The flip-flopping pattern between building and breaking tension has me on edge.
My hands continuously find their way to Thayla’s back to control the twitching, or I discreetly place them under my thighs. I don’t want any of them to see me shove them in my pockets and think I can’t control myself.
I can.
I’m just still…struggling.
Especially being here of all places.
The effect this is having on Creed has the tempting voice in my mind telling me to go end them all.
All the gods who steered him wrong when he was younger.
All the souls who taunt him.
When I say the voices of the people I’ve killed haunt me, I know it’s my mind playing tricks on me. The voice thatwhispers deadly desires in my ear is only a darker part of my consciousness that I don’t like to recognize.
It’s never been clearer to me than right now, he’s meant it every time he’s said the souls talk to him.
“Why haven’t you told us about this?” Amick asks, and Creed glares at him.
“What would you have had me say, Amick? Oh, guys, by the way, I have a large swirling pool of souls. It’s mostly blackened because they’re rotten, but some shades are gray, and some even grow whiter as they earn redemption?”
“Yes. I would’ve preferred you tell me exactly that. I’ve been worried this entire time that they’re somehow trapped inside of you, and the most worrisome concern here lately was they were close to Thayla’s.”
“Thayla’s soul is woven to Creed’s? What about the rest of yours?”
We all spare Doren a glance, then get back to staring at Creed. He won’t look at any of us.
“Creed,” Thayla murmurs as she lays her hand on his forearm.
“They aren’t trapped inside of me or attached to my soul like hers is, but yes, there’s a string of connection from me to every being locked in this place. Can we fucking drop this until we get home?”
Holy shit…
No wonder he seems heavier every time he comes here. His soul, maybe even his power, is probably pushing the absolute shit out of him to do away with the ones disturbing him.
We all have so many questions, but his bark has us all falling quiet. Well, of course, except for one.
“Don’t,” I mumble and shake my head at Amick.
His forehead wrinkles as he stares at me, but he keeps his mouth shut as our wheels bounce up and down. We’ve barely rolled to a stop before Creed’s shoving from his seat and slingingthe carriage doors open. Thayla doesn’t hesitate to chase after him, but Riven, Amick, and I allow the others to go first.
“Oh my. I’m so nervous. Nero, Sevryn, how are the two of you feeling?”
My lips curl in tight as I bite back a small snort. Riven doesn’t. His chuckle settles in my chest, making it even more difficult to hold mine in.
Doren is exactly as Thayla described him the day he gave her the Binding. He’s socially awkward, but not in the same sense as Amick.
Where my brother doesn’t care to fit into the conversation, Doren seems determined to always have one flowing. Even if his words and questions are a little eccentric.
