Ch. 33
“Benevolent”
I stand as best I can, leading against the castle walls. My leg lifted just enough for my ankle to remain limp in the air. My good shoulder resting against the wall. Fucking great. My breath is shaky, and my head is spinning. But I refuse to let the clouds the swirl in my mind to become dark and quiet. They thunder within my skull. Claws tapping on my mental door. No. Nyx, I can feel all the tiny stings over my face, arms, and legs as the wind blows.
Devlyn reached us soon after Mother stood over me until my eyes fluttered, fighting the quiet, the blackness, that still tempts me. Her body shifting to the Devlyn I know, but her face hard and cold. Mother’s second falling back into that role she was given. I could see it in her eyes though, the storm raging, while I choked on the air that suddenly filled my lungs after Mother released me. Pain makes us stronger Mother said while demanding no healer touched me since I forgot what happens when one disobeys her. When I disobey her.
Devlyn is standing in front of me next to Mother now, and Mother's personal guard, Farrah, are all waiting for the others to arrive. Devlyn’s body ridged and her fists clenched at her side, but her face is emotionless and harden, like she has train years to be. My eyes wander to my matriarch.
Mother’s hair is in a tight bun that covers her ears from the breeze. Not a piece to distract her. The purples in her onyx hair shining in the sunlight that is starting to fade behind the horizon. Her crown is a black woven design that flows with the top of her skull. Almost like thorns and with detailed carved ravens and bats. She is wearing her finest leathers that hug every sharp edge of her body. A mixture of the darkest of blacks with the palest of silvers. A dagger strapped to her leg and a short sword hangs next to her hip. An image of a dominating queen who demands respect from everyone and any who crosses that will be handled with no mercy, even her own child.
I feel her mauve eyes glance back and me. I can taste the heat and disapproval coming from her. I blink hard, take a shaky breath, and shift my weight, my good leg growing more tired as the minutes pass. Nyx, how far back were they? I look back at her, my eyes narrowing.
This woman has controlled every aspect of my life. From where I go, who I see, what I do. She will not control me forever. I will take every broken bone, every foul look, and every cutting spat she gives. I am always in control…not her, or Kiza, or anyone else. Or I at least try to be…
Mother’s attention is taken away before she can think of another why to punish her only feral daughter, as she had once called me.
Wagons and hooves can be heard making their way down the stone paved road. Iamys and Sadar emerge at the front.
Another way of pain flows through me as my good shoulder slips down the wall. A small snarl leave my lips. I can’t wait to just slump into my bed for hours. Finally resting every aching bone, muscle in my body, and Nyx a good soak for all these stupid cuts.
The heavy stone door opens and shakes the ground as it hits.
“All who serve the Forsaken Clan may enter.” Mother’s voice booms. Clear and forceful.
The wards around the castle tremor and hiss.
Sadar never breaks eye contact from the entrance as he passes. Even though I know deep down he wanted to. The oath craved in his back reminds him that even though I am his friend, he duty is to the guards…and Mother trumps me, any day.
Iamys’ eyes meet mine. I give him a soft smile, trying to hide the pain that I am refusing to give in to. I would never give Mother more reasons to think of me as weak and useless. Iamys’ tawny brown eyes holding mine as he passes. The edges of his lips twitching. I break our stare. I don’t need him feeling sorry for me. I am fine. I shift my weight, again, the muscles in my good leg start to tremor.
Wagons, scouts, and guards start filing through the castle door.
I can feel him before I see him. That exposed, open feeling, covering every inch of my body. I feel the prick of cold on my fingertips.
He is, surprisingly, walking next to Halfy. I don’t know which is more shocking, that he is walking or Halfy is willing to walk next to him.
Halfy raises his head to the sky and sniffs the air. I can see the powerful muscles in his neck twitch…my satchel wrapped around that same neck. He never broke his promise to Oana. His large head quickly whips in my direction after he caught my scent. His ginger eyes landing on my ankle. The hair along his back starts to rise.
I’m fine Halfy. It was my fault anyway.
Halfy starts in my direction. Moving between horses, wagons, scouts, and guards. Weaving in and out. I look past Halfy.
Our eyes meet.
That flame ignites in his cerulean eyes. Oranges raging, and almost glowing in the falling sunlight.
Don’t say a word. I mentally tell him as I hear Farrah’s sword unsheathing from her side. Zanir nonchalantly walks toward us following closely behind Halfy. His movement natural and with a sense of purpose. Almost if the speed he lost the night we meet is coming back to him.
Farrah is one of Mother’s personal guards and works closely with Sadar in commanding the guard units. Farrah is a large, and I mean towers over most and is taller than some of the horses, dark fae woman. I have the running suspicion that she is high fae because if not one of her parents had to a giant, ogre, or something massive. Her skin is a deep blue. Her face is full of sharp edges and her ear come to a point. Her hair is white and pure looking, even though she is anything but pure. It is cut short to her skull and the top section is braided down the sides. I have seen her slit the throat of a female guard who decided she couldn’t handle the oath being carved in her skin. Without even blinking.
“Who are you?” Farrah says while raising her sword to Zanir’s chin as he reaches us.
Ch. 33
“Benevolent”
I stand as best I can, leading against the castle walls. My leg lifted just enough for my ankle to remain limp in the air. My good shoulder resting against the wall. Fucking great. My breath is shaky, and my head is spinning. But I refuse to let the clouds the swirl in my mind to become dark and quiet. They thunder within my skull. Claws tapping on my mental door. No. Nyx, I can feel all the tiny stings over my face, arms, and legs as the wind blows.
Devlyn reached us soon after Mother stood over me until my eyes fluttered, fighting the quiet, the blackness, that still tempts me. Her body shifting to the Devlyn I know, but her face hard and cold. Mother’s second falling back into that role she was given. I could see it in her eyes though, the storm raging, while I choked on the air that suddenly filled my lungs after Mother released me. Pain makes us stronger Mother said while demanding no healer touched me since I forgot what happens when one disobeys her. When I disobey her.
Devlyn is standing in front of me next to Mother now, and Mother's personal guard, Farrah, are all waiting for the others to arrive. Devlyn’s body ridged and her fists clenched at her side, but her face is emotionless and harden, like she has train years to be. My eyes wander to my matriarch.
Mother’s hair is in a tight bun that covers her ears from the breeze. Not a piece to distract her. The purples in her onyx hair shining in the sunlight that is starting to fade behind the horizon. Her crown is a black woven design that flows with the top of her skull. Almost like thorns and with detailed carved ravens and bats. She is wearing her finest leathers that hug every sharp edge of her body. A mixture of the darkest of blacks with the palest of silvers. A dagger strapped to her leg and a short sword hangs next to her hip. An image of a dominating queen who demands respect from everyone and any who crosses that will be handled with no mercy, even her own child.
I feel her mauve eyes glance back and me. I can taste the heat and disapproval coming from her. I blink hard, take a shaky breath, and shift my weight, my good leg growing more tired as the minutes pass. Nyx, how far back were they? I look back at her, my eyes narrowing.
This woman has controlled every aspect of my life. From where I go, who I see, what I do. She will not control me forever. I will take every broken bone, every foul look, and every cutting spat she gives. I am always in control…not her, or Kiza, or anyone else. Or I at least try to be…
Mother’s attention is taken away before she can think of another why to punish her only feral daughter, as she had once called me.
Wagons and hooves can be heard making their way down the stone paved road. Iamys and Sadar emerge at the front.
Another way of pain flows through me as my good shoulder slips down the wall. A small snarl leave my lips. I can’t wait to just slump into my bed for hours. Finally resting every aching bone, muscle in my body, and Nyx a good soak for all these stupid cuts.
The heavy stone door opens and shakes the ground as it hits.
“All who serve the Forsaken Clan may enter.” Mother’s voice booms. Clear and forceful.
The wards around the castle tremor and hiss.
Sadar never breaks eye contact from the entrance as he passes. Even though I know deep down he wanted to. The oath craved in his back reminds him that even though I am his friend, he duty is to the guards…and Mother trumps me, any day.
Iamys’ eyes meet mine. I give him a soft smile, trying to hide the pain that I am refusing to give in to. I would never give Mother more reasons to think of me as weak and useless. Iamys’ tawny brown eyes holding mine as he passes. The edges of his lips twitching. I break our stare. I don’t need him feeling sorry for me. I am fine. I shift my weight, again, the muscles in my good leg start to tremor.
Wagons, scouts, and guards start filing through the castle door.
I can feel him before I see him. That exposed, open feeling, covering every inch of my body. I feel the prick of cold on my fingertips.
He is, surprisingly, walking next to Halfy. I don’t know which is more shocking, that he is walking or Halfy is willing to walk next to him.
Halfy raises his head to the sky and sniffs the air. I can see the powerful muscles in his neck twitch…my satchel wrapped around that same neck. He never broke his promise to Oana. His large head quickly whips in my direction after he caught my scent. His ginger eyes landing on my ankle. The hair along his back starts to rise.
I’m fine Halfy. It was my fault anyway.
Halfy starts in my direction. Moving between horses, wagons, scouts, and guards. Weaving in and out. I look past Halfy.
Our eyes meet.
That flame ignites in his cerulean eyes. Oranges raging, and almost glowing in the falling sunlight.
Don’t say a word. I mentally tell him as I hear Farrah’s sword unsheathing from her side. Zanir nonchalantly walks toward us following closely behind Halfy. His movement natural and with a sense of purpose. Almost if the speed he lost the night we meet is coming back to him.
Farrah is one of Mother’s personal guards and works closely with Sadar in commanding the guard units. Farrah is a large, and I mean towers over most and is taller than some of the horses, dark fae woman. I have the running suspicion that she is high fae because if not one of her parents had to a giant, ogre, or something massive. Her skin is a deep blue. Her face is full of sharp edges and her ear come to a point. Her hair is white and pure looking, even though she is anything but pure. It is cut short to her skull and the top section is braided down the sides. I have seen her slit the throat of a female guard who decided she couldn’t handle the oath being carved in her skin. Without even blinking.
“Who are you?” Farrah says while raising her sword to Zanir’s chin as he reaches us.
