Page 9 of Of Gods and Pain

After a few minutes of this, I can feel my heart slow, and my breaths become easier. The weight on my chest isn’t gone, but it’s lightened a bit. That is, until I hear another set of footsteps, and this time I know they’re coming for me. There’s only one person in this building who drags their heels unevenly the way she does. I know it won’t do any good, but I pretend to sleep, anyway.

“Emrys!” she barks, and I jolt at the tone. “Get your stupid ass up, boy, you have a visitor!”

I turn, rubbing my eyes and grimacing at the lamp she brought in. Her black hair is matted and tied in a knot on top of her head; the dress she’s wearing is one she hasn’t changed out of in weeks, though the males that visit here don’t seem to care about that. That’s why I’ve been in the same shirt and sweats for months now.

Movement catches my eye and my gaze snaps over to the doorway, where a familiar face watches me carefully. A whimper escapes my lips accidentally, and a hand hits my cheek before I have the chance to apologize. Metal fills my mouth, but I swallow down the evidence, knowing it would just earn more than a slap.

“Mother, please, not him,” I beg. My eyes widen as I realize I spoke those words out loud. But I can’t take them back; the man at the doorway is the same one who hurt me last night. He used me and then told me I was disgusting, and that nobody would ever want me again. So why is he here? I thought at least I wouldn’t have to see him anymore if he hated me that much.

“You will be accommodating to your guest, Emrys, or you won’t eat for a week.” Her voice is more venomous than a snake’s bite. “Do. You. Hear. Me?” I nod once, dropping my eyes in submission.

She strides out of the room, and I feel the tightness take over my front again. My breathing becomes unwillingly heavy, and the man must like that reaction because he chuckles as he reaches for his belt.

“I knew you was a little freak,” he sputters, the smell of alcohol drifting my way.

I take slow, even breaths again; internally chanting to myself the thing that helps me through these nights:

One day.

I come back to the present, noticing my grip on Casmir’s hair is too tight. I let go some, and Cas fists my shirt and pulls me against him even more. The fluttering in my chest is threatening to claw its way out and sink into his.

Although I wasn’t certain until Nell told us, I think I’ve always known that Cas and I belonged together. The moment we met…something just felt right. Like we were always meant to be friends. Meant to be in each other’s lives.

I wince at the thought: friends.

I’ve loved him since the day he dragged me back to the castle. Maybe I didn’t realize it wasn’t just platonic until we were older, and those are feelings I have never fully acknowledged or accepted, but I have always loved him. I think that’s why I would lose myself in females and alcohol so often—because allowing myself a moment to think would force me to admit things that can never leave the ragged depths of my blackened soul.

I pull back, keeping my hand around his neck so that he doesn’t back up too far. Looking into his eyes, I can already see some frustration has left them. Good.

“I don’t fucking care what you think you did or didn’t do, Cas. What happened to Nell—” my jaw clenches. “What is happening to her is not your fault. This is on Andras.”

He starts to shake his head, wanting to deny my words, but I interrupt before he can speak. “You know her…she would have left even if you had told her. She is the most infuriatingly stubborn female I have ever met; it wouldn’t have mattered what you said.” He scoffs a breath, his lips cresting slightly.

They look too alone. I can fix that…

Nope.

“Let’s go upstairs to release all this guilt before we both fall into old habits,” I say a little too quickly, letting him go and heading to the indoor training room.

Chapter Five

Anellah

Counting days when you’re trapped underground with no light, sound, or concrete routine is nearly impossible. Bren tries to tell me when he can, though speaking to each other is difficult as he’s only allowed in the room with me when Andras or Imogen are here. From what I gathered yesterday, I’ve been down here for over five weeks.

Andras doesn’t harm me each day, but he siphons me each chance he gets. Though it almost feels like he’s getting sloppy. I may not know the time of day he comes, but the time between visits seems to be getting longer. I can also tell that’s true because of the amount of magic that builds up in my system before he sucks it from my skin.

A little more each time.

That’s what I’m waiting for. That one day he will wait just long enough that I will get control. I’ve tried thinking of every other option, but there aren’t any. His ego is my one hope to leave this wretched, musty place.

I can just see my mother’s eyes rolling at my thoughts. Not only have I managed to be kidnapped twice by this deranged male, but he was able to keep me compliant for over twenty years. And now my only hope is that he’ll get lazy enough to give me a small chance at leaving.

She would call me weak. A disappointment. Her daughter—the only god to ever be born—is a failure. She trained with the best for decades. She's stronger and more powerful than anyone in the realms…and yet she’s repeatedly bested by a god with no powers, who’s supposed to be dead.

Yeah, my mother would be right.

How foolish can I be? The first time, I’ll allow myself a little grace. I was naïve and hopeful; I did not know of the wickedness that existed in this realm. But this second time? I knew exactly what existed—what was out there waiting for me. Searching for me. And I still fell into his trap. He knew I would try to go back to Europa the moment I had my memories back. He’s been preparing for this for a long time, and I just made it so much easier for him.

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