Page 114 of Heirs of the Cursed

She turned to one side, holding herself as the sobs tugged at her soul. Her heart skipped a beat upon the absence of her beloved’s body.

She had to find her, bury her. At least, she deserved that. So Darcia summoned her remaining strength to crawl toward the door. A low grunt rose in her throat as she tried to get up, to move forward, but her only way out seemed further away no matter what she did.

Her trembling legs betrayed her, pushing Darcia to the cold ground. Splinters dug into her arm, breaking the fabric of her dress and her skin. When the stench of blood and death reached her senses like a fragrance of sweet doom, she breathed in through her mouth to appease the nausea that rose through her throat.

Behind the door, the wooden floor creaked under the weight of a pair of boots. Fear slithered down her spine as the sound of a key working on the lock echoed through the room. Whoever it was, they’d locked her down like a wild animal. Althoughshe felt weak, Darcia would attack the assailant and die before letting them enslave her more than she already was. Maybe she couldn’t run, but she could harm them enough to want to be dead instead.

As the door opened, her magic stirred in recognition.

“Hello,sister. Did you miss me?”

Conrad Voreia leaned against the doorframe, twirling a sharp dagger between his hands. The gemstones along the pommel caught the distant light of the fire still raging through the forest. Now that her senses came rushing back to her, she realized she was in an abandoned cabin.

He offered her a sadistic smile, one that almost made her crawl back.

“I think you and I should have a nice, little talk,” he said.

Darcia watched him intently, her face reddened with thousands of emotions. Her teeth clenched over the cloth that repressed her words, but the hot tears that burned the back of her eyes were replaced by a stare filled with her darkest desires.

With the dagger still in his hand, Conrad took a step forward and grabbed her by the hair. She tried to scream and raised her tied hands above her head, closing around his wrist to soothe the pain on her skull. Her nails tore his skin, and with an enraged growl, he shoved her to the ground.

Darcia fell over broken branches and dry leaf litter, and protected her face with her arms as her stepbrother bent down to remove the gag from her mouth with a violent tug.

“In these months that I’ve been traveling, I’ve learned a lot of interesting things. Do you want to know about it?” Despite his question, Darcia didn’t respond, which made him angrier than he already was. Conrad hit her hard across the face. “Answer me!”

Thick rivers of blood dripped down the bridge between her nose and lips, staining her clothes. Her eyes blurred before sheregained her sight completely, and her body spasmed. Despite the undeniable pain that coursed through every bone and muscle in her body, Darcia refused to give him that satisfaction.

She spit blood on the floor beneath her, wishing she were strong enough to stand up for herself, to challenge him.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, Darcia?”

“Yes, master.”

“See how easy things can be when you obey, dear sister?” Conrad squatted down in front of her, stroking her face and making Darcia shudder. “I’ve heard many stories in Camdenn and Bellmare, and I’ve gathered information of great value. So much so that even the Crown and its filthy soldiers would kill for it.”

Darcia didn’t move. She didn’t even dare to look away from those disturbing blue eyes. Maybe she could scream, but she had no assurance that someone would come to her aid. Gion was gone, Alasdair too. If the goddesses had been merciful, Bassel and Sadira would be far away and safe.

Conrad’s hand traveled to her necklace and she jerked back violently. “Curious jewel, your pendant. I’ve noticed you’ve worn it for as long as I’ve known you. Do you even remember who gave it to you?”

Darcia shook her head.

“Then let me refresh your memory.”

Conrad hit her one more time, connecting his leather boot with her stomach. Darcia bent in half from the pain and coughed as she gasped for air.

“It was my mother,” he said, cracking his knuckles. “My sweet, beloved mother. The woman youkilled.”

“I didn’t. . .” Darcia whispered. “I couldn’t have!”

“Oh, how mistaken you are. She’s the one who found you. A helpless child at the mercy of darkness and thugs. She said thewolves had protected you, as if you were one of their pack. You were two years old when she brought you home. And from the first moment I saw you, I knew you would be trouble.”

That wasn’t the story she knew. She tried to think back to her time before the circus, before Gion, before Conrad and his constant punishments. She tried to remember who she was and where she came from.

Nothing; there was absolutely nothing in her mind.

Her power began to churn.

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