Page 45 of Taken By The Dark Three
Vaelith’s expression hardens. “I’ll see that the council hears of this. Even in Orthani, forcing a mind collar is punishable if done without council sanction.” His voice drops. “At least you’re safe… for now.”
I nod, gripping the band until the runes cut into my palm. “He might try again. He won’t let me slip away now that I bested him.”
Vaelith curses under his breath. “We’ll address that. For the moment, come with me to my war chamber. We can’t debate this in the open.” He seizes the band from my hand, glancing at its inscriptions. “We’ll use this as evidence, if needed.”
He leads me away from the guard station. Soldiers pass us, shooting curious looks. I hold my head high, ignoring the dull ache in my limbs. The swirl of adrenaline dissipates, leaving me drained. But the knowledge that I refused Zareth’s mind slavery glows in my chest like a secret torch. I refused to kneel for him. If he tries again, I’ll cut deeper.
Vaelith ushers me into the war chamber, shutting the heavy door behind us. He whirls, eyes raking over me. “Tell me every detail.”
I recount the orchard scene, from Zareth controlling my guard to unveiling the collar band. Vaelith’s fists clench. “That monster,” he mutters. “He disrespects every boundary, every chain of command. If the council knew… But Zareth wields heavy influence. They might hush this up unless we force the matter.”
I let out a raw laugh. “You’re Orthani’s commander, yet you worry they won’t punish him?”
His lips curl in anger. “His House invests heavily in psionic research. The council fears losing that advantage. But I’ll ensure he doesn’t roam free after this. I’ll push for an inquest. Meanwhile…” He exhales, stepping closer, scanning the bruises forming on my arms. “I’ll keep you guarded. More guarded, I mean. We can’t let him corner you again.”
Guarded. Always guarded. The word stings, but I sense no malice in his tone, only concern. My chest tightens with an unwelcome warmth. “Thank you,” I whisper, surprising myself with the sincerity. “For not brushing this aside.”
His gaze meets mine, tension sizzling. I recall the savage intimacy we shared, how he pinned me with the same force Zareth tried to harness, but the difference was desire, not enslavement. It’s twisted, but I trust Vaelith more than Zareth. That doesn’t mean I trust him entirely, though. Ai’s warning rings in my head: “One will betray.”
He stares at me, a flicker of longing in his eyes. “You… overcame him with your own psionic force?”
I nod. “I turned his nightmares back on him. He never expected it.”
A faint smile tugs his mouth. “You’re formidable. This only proves it further.”
Heat flutters in my core, recalling how his praise once riled me. Now, it pulses with a different shape—acceptance and desire in the same breath. I swallow, stepping away to quell the swirlof conflicting feelings. “We should be vigilant. Zareth might retaliate.”
Vaelith rubs his jaw, glancing at the collar band. “He’ll need time to recover from your backlash. We can use that time to secure evidence. If he denies everything, we show the band to the council. Possibly it can be traced to him. Meanwhile, I won’t let you out of guarded sight.”
My jaw sets. “I hate that,” I mutter. “But I prefer it to letting him corner me alone.”
He exhales, setting the band on the table. “We’ll store this carefully. For now, rest. I’ll inform the officers that you’re off-limits to Zareth until the council decides. If he tries approaching, they must intervene.” He glances at me again, eyes flicking over my battered posture. “You should see the healer for those bruises.”
I wave him off. “I’ve had worse. Purna can mend a bit on our own.”
His gaze softens, tension swirling between us again. “Selene,” he says, voice low, “I’m… furious at him for trying to strip your mind away.” I sense the undertone of personal frustration, how he wrestles with the city’s rules and his own violent instincts. “I won’t let him have you.”
The phrase “have me” lingers, echoing with a heated promise. My throat constricts, memories of last night’s savage union flaring. Yet I recall Ai’s cryptic warning. “One will betray.” Could it be Vaelith? Eryx? Or is Zareth the inevitable traitor? My head spins with possibilities.
I nod, ignoring the swirl of desire that threatens to unravel me. “Thank you for stepping in,” I murmur, forcing composure. “I might actually appreciate your guard detail if it keeps him at bay.”
A half-smile ghosts across his lips. “Just don’t exploit my leniency.”
My lips curl in a wry grin. “Me? Never.” The tension breaks slightly, a hesitant warmth flickering. But then the reality of my battered state and Zareth’s looming threat returns. I draw a breath, focusing on the future. Ai’s whispered omen—someone will betray. I vow to watch them all, including Vaelith, no matter the pull we share.
At last, he gestures me to the door. “Go, rest. If you need me, I’ll be with the officers finalizing the next infiltration mission.”
I incline my head, stepping away. My body trembles, adrenaline slowly ebbing. The guards outside regard me with wide eyes, likely hearing rumors of what just happened. I ignore them, trudging through the corridors back to my suite in the east wing. My limbs feel heavier with every step, each bruise throbbing from Zareth’s partial telekinetic assault. I want to collapse, let sleep claim me. But Eryx’s plan gnaws at my thoughts, and Ai’s warning sits like a ghost at my shoulder.
Once inside my suite, I lock the door behind me, leaning against it as though shutting out the entire city. The collar band weighs my belt pouch, a sinister trophy. The runes remain dark, like a snake coiled in wait. I consider destroying it, but keep it for leverage. If the council demands proof of Zareth’s crime, I’ll produce it. For now, I stash it beneath the small writing desk, wrapped in cloth.
I sink onto the bed, exhaling shakily. My bruises sting, but the deeper ache is in my chest. Orthani’s fortress stands as a pit of vipers—Zareth tries to enslave me, Eryx wants me for sabotage, Vaelith claims me for war, and somewhere in the fortress halls, Ai creeps in shadows, whispering riddles about betrayal. I can’t tell if I stand on the cusp of triumph or disaster.
A single flickering lamp throws shadows against the walls. My eyes drift shut. As exhaustion tugs at me, I recall the moment Zareth reeled under my mental lash. That sense of power, of refusing to kneel, fuels me with renewed determination. I amnot a toy for these men, no matter how alluring or threatening they might be. I will carve my own path, rescue Ai, and if necessary, burn Orthani’s illusions of control.
Slumber takes me in a slow descent, my last conscious thought a swirl of shifting images—Zareth’s twisted grin, Vaelith’s fierce scowl, Eryx’s smug half-smile, and Ai’s too-calm eyes. In that shifting half-dream, I see faint glimpses of each man turning away from me at a crucial moment, a spasm of betrayal etched into their features. I jerk awake briefly, heart pounding, before tiredness drags me back under. The city’s wards hum in the distance, muffled by the thick estate walls. A battered but triumphant sense of self lingers in my core. If Zareth tries again, I’ll be ready to strike deeper. And if Ai’s prophecy holds, I’ll watch my every step, prepared for the betrayal that lurks.
For now, though, I let darkness cradle me. The knowledge that I bested Zareth’s vile attempt tonight remains my solace, a small victory in a labyrinth of threats. Whatever tomorrow brings—council inquiries, infiltration missions, Eryx’s clandestine plots—I’ll face it with my mind unbound and my will sharper than ever.
