Page 24 of Of Night and Blood: Special Edition

As if this moment could not get any better, a small puddle formed around the golden-haired mortal. I laughed then, an evil, throaty sound that confirmed I was every bit the monster my subjects thought I was.

Today I was okay with that, proud of it.

“Asher!” I heard a furious voice call from behind me. I turned slowly, knowing who it was and dreading the consequences I would face. Mia stood a few paces away, her expression livid. She did a quick jog to close the space, shoving me out of the way and leaning down to Sterling. “Release him,” she ordered me, the threat in her voice deadly.

Immediately, I obeyed. The moment I dropped my hold on Sterling, his upper half hit the golden marble, crumpling as consciousness left him. Mia slowly turned her head towards me, and when our eyes met, I saw something I never had before—hatred. With a snap of her fingers, thorned vines wrapped around my arms and torso, shredding both my golden dress and my flesh. A yelp of pain escaped my lips before I silenced myself.

“How dare you lay your hands on him, Asher, he is to be your husband!” She raged, her hands flying in the air as she spoke. I wanted to hold my ground, to ask her why he went unpunished after he attacked me. Instead, my head tilted towards the floor, eyes averting her gaze.

In my heart I knew that I did not want to disappoint Mia, the female who raised me, guided me, loved me. But how many times had I thrown up into the toilet when my shirt grazed my skin and brought memories of his touch? How many times a night did I wake up screaming for help to find that waking up was the true nightmare? He deserved pain. More than that, Sterling was owed death. My power urged me on, built up from that well in my chest, and simmered.

I held tight to every ounce of control I possessed, trying to leash the fury before I murdered the boy prince and found myself dead too. Mia shouted orders at her handmaidens, who ran to fetch Tish. Guards who heard the commotion finally deemed the issue in need of their presence, looks of disbelief on their face when they saw the blood-soaked vines around me and Sterling on the floor unconscious.

“Take her to her room in the low level,” she ordered one of the guards, who immediately grabbed my entwined hands to guide me away. “I think that Asher needs to be reminded of her place.”

***

The walk to my second room was excruciating. Not only because of the thorns slashing through my skin, but also because I knew that Mia would have Xavier come for me. My low level room was where I was sentenced when I misbehaved enough to warrant this extent of punishment. It was rare, but not unheard of.

We got to the room with the wooden door, and I sighed in relief. The magic used on this space, an ancient kind even I was not privy to the knowledge of, created a sort of barrier. Once I passed the threshold my powers were siphoned from me. Each minute in here was painful, but the thorns were worse. I gladly walked in, every vine falling to the floor and instantly withering. My old, black bed still sat in the corner, familiar in the worst way. Nothing else, save for an assortment of my toys from my youth, resided in the room.

This part of the castle was the sole space left untouched by the gold, still the original gray of the rock in which the palace was built. The only paint that graced these walls was used to sketch ancient runes, most likely that which fueled the magic. They were different than the language of The Old Ones, far more ominous in appearance.

I turned back towards the guards, who stood watching me from the doorway, their fear prominent on their faces. “I apologize, but I cannot recall if either of you are a Fire?”

My teeth clenched, that hollowing feeling of my powers draining sending a steady flow of pain throughout my body. I would not last long in here without succumbing to the fatigue and agony. A small fire from outside of the door could make the situation a little less horrid.

“No, My Princess, we are not,” the taller of the two said, his shaggy brown hair swaying with his head. I let out a long-suffering sigh, my shoulders slumping with the weight of the day, and the week.

“Well that is rather unfortunate seeing as it is colder down here than the soul of the lovely Prince Sterling,” I murmured. One of the guards, the taller fae who had spoken before, attempted to disguise his laugh with a cough. That made me smile, but barely. Then the smaller, younger fae stepped forward. His baby blue eyes and blonde hair gave him a sort of innocence that was different than most of the guards. In fact both of them seemed unfamiliar and out of place.

“Servants talk, Your Highness, and I think it imperative you are made aware that those in the castle know the truth of your attack,” he spoke with conviction. Behind him, the other guard stood straighter. “You are our future Queen, the one whose power will guide us into a new age. You are our protector, and we are yours. The prince will never lay another finger on you so long as we are here,” he declared, one hand falling to the hilt of his sword, the other forming a fist over his heart.

“Your kindness and devotion are both duly noted,” I responded. My smile was worn, exhausted, but it was the best I could call forth. Just then, steps sounded from above, and I knew my time of simple happiness was over. “However, it seems safety is fleeting. I thank you, but I beg of you to never speak those words to me or anyone again.” Quickly, I pushed the guards out of the room, popping my own body out enough to shove into their minds.

The king comes, no matter what you hear from this room, stay still and stay silent.

Both guards’ eyes widened at the sound of my voice in their minds, the taller one shivering. I made a mental note to ask their names when this was over. Right on cue, the tune of Xavier’s boots rang down the long, stone hall. I pulled the heavy wooden door shut on myself and heard the click of the bolt as the two locked it. I peered through the bars on the door and gave a small smile followed by a quick nod.

“Good afternoon, Luca, Cyprus,” Xavier said, his voice stoic and kind. My teeth ground together as I prepared for a vastly different tone when he entered this room. At least I knew their names now. Rushing to the bed, nearly tripping as I attempted to navigate in the dark, I sat in the corner with my eyes facing down. I pulled my knees to my chest and waited.

Chills ran down my spine as the menacing tune of the door creaking open hit my ears. Xavier slammed it shut, shaking the small cot of a bed. Still, I looked down. My breath hitched as he approached, it had been so long since I was brought here that the fear almost felt foreign. When he stopped in front of me, his golden boots glowing in the light of the fae fire he left floating behind the bars, I at last looked up into his eyes, seeing the storm-raged waters.

“What were you thinking, Ash?” he asked. His disappointment was that of a father to his daughter, but I knew that my punishment would go far beyond familial. This would be a king punishing his subject. More than anything, I wanted to explain to Xavier what Sterling did to me, how I was abused at his hand. When I tried with Mia, I thought perhaps she would help me, but I was wrong. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew that Xavier would not either. Which was why defending myself, attempting to make him the pleased father he seemed in that meeting, would be futile.

“I apologize, My King,” I replied. The tears registered before the pain as Xavier’s hand made contact with my cheek. My head snapped to the side, and I wondered how far this would go. Begging and pleading were pointless, that much I knew from experience.

“Apologies will not fix what you have done, you insolent female. Have I not loved you? Have I not given you everything, including my kingdom? Have I not treated you as an equal to that of my most trusted council members? Just today, I watched proudly as you handled strife amongst some of the strongest fae to ever exist. Yet here you sit, apologizing for attacking your betrothed as if the issue is not far greater than a simple accident or misguided decision.” Every word hurled my way stung just as deeply as the slap.

“Sterling is traumatized, he sits in the infirmary shaking as if he were in the middle of a blizzard in the Tomorrow Lands. He has confided that he is prepared to end the engagement. One, need I remind you, that our subjects are relying on to ensure their safety,” he fumed. A small part of me was eager to know that I might yet relieve myself of the abusive boy, but the far greater part of me cowered in dread and despair. If I failed to marry Sterling, then I likely doomed the fae.

Xavier leaned down, his hot breath hitting my face. “Sterling is willing to allow this transgression to go unpunished, but he requests a lofty price.” A price? What could he possibly want? “You will wed tomorrow, no delays or arguments. You will resign your position on the council and forfeit it to him. Moreover, you will wear a blocker.”

As Xavier spoke, he pulled out a thin, brown band. I knew that on the underside would be the same markings that littered the room, because this band held the same magic, but on a condensed and far more potent scale.

I gasped, horrified at the sight of the bracelet. I had the same one as a youngling due to how unpredictable and dangerous I was with my newfound powers.

Occasionally, Xavier would have me tear into the mind of a traitor or a criminal, my job being to recover the truth and prove the scoundrel guilty. More often though, I was ordered to publicly shatter the minds of fae who fraternized, like I had the day after my ball. I was a murderer that claimed to have a conscience, a moral code of sorts. But at least I had the strength to manage only taking life when I was told. As a youngling, I had killed more than I cared to remember before they finally deemed it necessary for me to wear the thick leather band around my wrist. It was meant to be a fail-safe, a last case scenario.

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