Page 48 of Taken By The Dark Three
A low curse escapes my lips. My craving for her is as undeniable as my thirst for revenge. The orchard scene flickers in my mind, how her glare mixes with that flicker of attraction. I can’t let these feelings overshadow my mission. She’s cunning, armed with a formidable will. She might turn on me the moment it suits her.
Yet I feel alive each time we cross paths. My vengeance once felt like a solitary march, but with Selene, it’s an electrifying waltz. If I handle it right, we’ll cut Orthani’s throat and free Ai, forging a victory that resonates far beyond the city’s walls. Unless she betrays me first—or I push her too hard, and she chooses Vaelith or escapes alone. I can’t read her entirely yet. That’s the thrill.
I rub my temples, forcibly turning my thoughts to practical steps. The supply run is in three days. I need the exact schedule, the guard assignments, perhaps even a wagon blueprint to sabotage. If Selene can glean that from Vaelith’s war councils, we can strike precisely. I already have the Red Purna’s resources to stage an ambush near the outskirts. With chaos magic, I can disrupt the wards guarding the caravan. Then we claim or destroy the supplies, dealing a harsh blow to Orthani’s next offensive. Let them feel the cracks. Let them tremble.
At last, exhaustion pulls at me. I douse the lamp, lying back on the bedroll, eyes open in the darkness. Selene’s image flashes behind my eyelids: her defiant scowl, how her voice pitched low with challenge, how her body tensed when I advanced. My blood warms, an ache growing inside me. If we stand side by side,forging sabotage in Orthani’s core, we might feed on each other’s boldness.
But trust? It’s a fragile notion. Ai’s cryptic warnings, rumors of Zareth’s next moves, Vaelith’s possessive watch… everything teeters. My best route forward is to keep her tethered to me by mutual necessity, letting her see that I can offer more than the Red Purna’s betrayal or Vaelith’s half-benevolence. And if that tether leads us to an inevitable collision of lust and danger, so be it.
I let out a shaky breath. Sleep eludes me, though I close my eyes. My mind conjures a swirl of chaotic dreams—Orthani’s council wreathed in flames, Selene at my side, blade glinting, her body pressed too close for sanity. Then, in the next flicker, I see betrayal in her eyes. I wake with a jerk, cursing the uncertainty.
Outside, the city hums with faint night sounds—drunken laughter, distant patrols. The darkness in my safehouse is absolute. I cradle the knowledge that in two days, I’ll meet her again. We’ll finalize sabotage details, and maybe that meeting will bring us one step closer to toppling the council or devouring each other. My lips twitch at the thought, hunger stirring in my veins. I vow not to let Vaelith or Zareth claim her undivided loyalty. She’s too fiery to be caged, and I want to watch Orthani burn alongside her fearless grin.
At last, I settle into a fitful doze, chaos swirling in my veins. Tomorrow, I’ll gather infiltration supplies from the Red Purna’s caches. I’ll keep an eye on the wagons, track which route they plan to use. If Selene delivers the final piece of intelligence from inside Vaelith’s war room, we can strike a perfect blow. And maybe, in the aftermath, she’ll see that my path is the only real chance to free Ai and tear down the city that twisted our fates. We’ll use each other until the last wall crumbles. I can’t deny a thrill at the notion that mutual attraction simmers under all that cunning, that we might devour each other in the process.Orthani has no idea how violently we plan to tear its tapestry of cruelty.
Eventually, the night wears on, and I slip deeper into unsettled sleep, mind dancing with images of Selene’s fierce stare. One day soon, she’ll embrace the chaos with me or cut me down. Either outcome feels more alive than the stagnant revenge I nursed alone. I’ll gamble on her forging an alliance—fueled by desperation, tempered by desire. Let the rest of Orthani tremble, because when we come for them, we’ll do so with savage grace.
17
SELENE
Islip through the twisting back alleys of Orthani’s underbelly, guided by a single lantern’s glow in the distance. The early evening sky roils with clouds, a half-moon haloed in murky silver. The city’s looming spires form black silhouettes overhead, and the cold air carries the distant clamor of drunken brawls and patrolling guards. Yet, here in the older quarter, the streets feel almost abandoned, as though Orthani’s heart beats louder in the more prosperous zones.
I pull my cloak tighter, scanning each shadowy turn. Earlier, I sent a coded message to Eryx using one of his rumored drop points—a slip of paper tucked behind a broken statue. I told him to meet me here, at a particular safehouse nestled in the labyrinth of decaying stone. I can’t be certain he’ll come, but if he’s half as cunning as I believe, he’ll sense the significance of my invitation. We have a plan to finalize, a sabotage that might rend Orthani’s power at the seams. And, if I’m honest, an unspoken tension to confront.
Ahead, I find the dilapidated building, a squat structure with boarded windows. The heavy stench of mildew clings to its walls. I push open a warped wooden door, stepping into a dustycorridor lit only by the faint glow of a single candle I placed earlier. My footsteps are soft on the creaking floorboards. A sense of anticipation tingles under my skin. I told Vaelith I’d be out for a short errand. He suspects nothing more than a minor supply run—perhaps a petty ruse to gather new arrows. But in truth, I’m forging a new path, a chance to slip deeper into the web I’ve begun weaving.
I cross a small entry hall that reeks of rot. My candle shows a battered table, a few broken chairs. The place is a far cry from Vaelith’s carefully guarded estate, but it offers privacy. I linger, exhaling softly, letting my eyes adjust. Eryx should arrive soon. My mind whirls with the final details of our sabotage: the wagon routes, the guard rotations, how we’ll strike. Vaelith remains in the dark. Meanwhile, Zareth lurks somewhere, reeling from the mental beating I dealt him. And beyond that, Ai’s eerie whispers echo in my head: “One will betray.” My chest constricts. I can’t guess who or how, but I must remain vigilant.
A faint scrape of movement behind me. My heart clenches, hand dropping to the dagger at my belt. Then I catch the swirl of a midnight-blue cloak and a glint of gold near a pair of dark eyes. Eryx emerges from a side doorway, face drawn in a half-smirk. His manner is as silent as death.
“You’re prompt,” I say, steadying my pulse. “I half-expected you to lurk on the rooftops, waiting to see if I brought an ambush.”
He scoffs under his breath. “You wouldn’t tip Vaelith off about this. You’re too invested in our sabotage.” He glances around, taking in the decaying walls. “Charming place. A little close to that crumbling temple, though. The wards might sense a magic surge if we’re not careful.”
I shrug, crossing my arms. “We can talk quietly. I scouted this location. The wards in this district are minimal, the city invests little in a run-down quarter.” My gaze flicks over him—white hair cropped short, eyes glinting with chaotic undertones. I recall the danger that coils behind his flippant charm. “We have a plan to finalize, right?”
He nods, stepping closer. The hush of our proximity pulses with tension. “The supply run leaves Orthani in two days. The wagons carry vital siege equipment and rations for the next orc offensive. We intercept them at the southwestern pass. My associates can handle the strike, but I need your final intelligence: route changes, guard rosters, anything Vaelith’s war councils decided.”
I tap my belt pouch. “Got it. Copies of the updated route, along with some names. The caravans might shift course at the last minute to avoid rumored orc raids. And yes, they’re doubling the guard presence. Vaelith’s men trust me enough to let me rummage in the planning documents. None suspect I’d pass it on to you.”
A slow grin curves his mouth. “You’ve done well. With that data, we can sabotage them effectively. Orthani’s next campaign gets delayed, or undone.”
My pulse thrums with triumphant adrenaline. “If all goes right, yes. Let Orthani stumble.” Yet my chest feels oddly tight. This is it—the final step that cements my betrayal of Vaelith’s cause. But I push aside the pang of guilt. Orthani never truly trusted me; they only tolerated me. And I won’t forget the Red Purna’s original betrayal, nor Eryx’s manipulations. Everyone’s using everyone. I vow to keep my eyes open, no illusions.
He holds out a hand. I slip a small scroll from my belt pouch, offering it. As his fingers brush mine, a jolt of tension leaps between us. It’s not just about sabotage. There's a crackling undercurrent that stirs every time we stand close. He lifts an eyebrow, scanning my face as though searching for hesitation. “You’re truly ready to bring Orthani to its knees?”
I swallow. “Yes. They tried to collar my mind, keep me caged. If we strike them at this supply run, it’s a blow to their power. I want that, and I want Ai safe.”
He nods, tucking the scroll into a hidden pocket. “She’ll be safe once we carve a path out of the city’s core. But you have to keep playing the role of Vaelith’s ally, feeding me updates until the moment we strike. Once the wagons burn, Orthani will scramble, giving you a chance to slip Ai away.”
We’re so close that I smell the faint tang of steel and leather on him. A flicker of memory stirs: how in the orchard, we nearly closed that distance in raw, feral tension. Something is different now—an added swirl of anger and longing that neither of us bothers to hide. My breath stutters. “We’ve done the business talk. Now let’s talk about something else.”
He tilts his head. “You’re referencing the tension between us?” His gaze slides over me in a way that’s both appraising and predatory. “I see it, too. Are we going to address it, or keep dancing around it?”
A surge of heat prickles my skin. “We can’t trust each other. Yet, whenever we meet, this… friction crackles. Maybe I should purge it, see if it shatters everything or forges a sharper alliance.”
His lips twitch, a faint curve that hints at dark amusement. “If you want me that badly, I won’t say no.” He closes the final inch separating us, voice dropping. “But are you sure it won’t muddy your arrangement with Vaelith?”
