Page 21 of Bound in Violet Ink
Panic bubbles like a rolling pot of water that is about to burst in a blooping mess. The only thing to calm me down is knowing that I have to get over it. Silas was sending me to Faust next, so how is this worse?
Survival.
Imustreorient my mind if I am to reign triumphant. Mating Kane is a victory compared to the alternative. Fated reasoning, or not.
My shoulders square as I allow him to guide me, holding my head tall. We enter into a vast rotunda, the ceiling stretching high above us into a dome of stained stone and black iron. Thousands of prisoners line the walls, stories upon stories, cages and cells stacked like a grotesque hive.
Kane stops in the center of it all. The ground seems tothrumunder my boots. Many of his people fan out, unlocking the cells in something that appears rehearsed. The metallic shriek of opening doors fills the air, thickening it, electrifying it. “A change is coming!” Kane bellows, voice booming through the chamber, commanding absolute, trembling silence.
Freed prisoners drift forward to the railings, clinging to the bars, clinging to hope.
“The Seelie will fall, andIwill be standing among their ashes, wearing anewcrown.” He turns slowly, allowing those words to soak into the marrow of every soul in the room. “If your cell has been opened, you are free to follow my people. If you choose not to follow us and go your own path—know this: the duskborn are mine now. They will hunt down any betrayer. Give me no reason to hate you, and you’ll never see me again.” He lifts his chin slightly, a sovereign accepting inevitable loyalty. “The rest of you,” he says, voice dipping into pure ice, “will rot in your cages until your final breath.”
A beat of stunned silence—and then chaos. Screams. Metal slamming against stone. The air explodes into violent noises. Kane grabs my arm again, unbothered by the bedlam, and hauls me back through the crumbling hallways.
My mind spins the entire time, overanalyzing everything.
Get off this island. Get away from Silas. That’s all that matters.
I could plan an escape later, once we’re far enough away. The thought barely has time to root itself before I feel a sharp, burning prick at my neck. I turn, startled—the last thing I see are the metallic eyes of Kane as everything goes black.
HoldingVictoria against me is dangerous. The bond strains between us like a taut wire, vibrating, begging to place my attention solely on her—on what should have been sealed long ago.
It takes everything I have to rip my attention away and move. Carrying her close, I stride with purpose through these tunnels. The decision to incapacitate her was made swiftly. The debauchery for flesh and violence that will follow until we get to land is not something she needs to witness. Already, thehalls and tunnels fill with those who take advantage of their gifted freedom. The way a person screams when violated, either through flesh or murder, is not a sound one forgets.
Victoria is only here because of Silas, and I willnotlet this place be her introduction into the new world.The duskborn will handle the aftermath of this place and what it does to people.
Victoria’s body is slack against mine, her head nestled beneath my chin, her lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks as if in surrender.Let them look. Let every eye on the battlements and every whisper in the shadows spread the message that Victoria is mine now. And I do not forgive for any harm brought to her. Let the tale race ahead to Silas’s ears—that the woman he caged like a relic now lies safely against the chest of the man who will destroy him. Of the man he tried to throw to the Carrows.
I hope he trembles. I hope he clutches the iron arms of his throne and finally understands fear. He will either step into the open, or I will storm that fucking castle.
He will pay for sending herhere.
As we breach the gates of Carrows, the sky itself seems to shift. The light of day hits my skin like absolution, like fire after endless dark. The movements are swift around me as the plan of action commences. The longboats wait at the levee, bobbing in solemn rhythm. I get Victoria onto the largest longboat, unmarked, ignoring the oarsmen as they stare at her while I move to the back of the vessel near the mast at the stern. I lay her against other fabrics, adjusting the ones around her so she won’t move too greatly, her olive skin a beautiful contrast against the surroundings, including her inky black hair.
Even unconscious, she unsettles me. So delicate… yet every part of her has the strength of a kingdom denied its crown. She will sit by my side as we undo the injustice of this world.
I settle beside her, hand still pressed lightly to her ribcage, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. It’s already rising andfalling faster than it should, meaning she’s been exposed to this before.
The unbound energy of desperate revenge tests my resolve. What did they do to her while unconscious? How often did it happen that she has some build-up to its effects?
Osman joins our vessel while Freya remains behind to direct the rest. My gaze rakes across the oarsmen until they look away, understanding without needing to be told—she is not to be touched. Not even by thought. Not until she can command that herself and is fully bonded to me. “No more delays. Freya will handle the rest. Get this ship out of here.”
There was once a plan. Wait. Regroup. Ensure the others made it. But that plan shattered the moment Victoria fell limp in my arms. Now, nothing else matters.
We’re leaving immediately.
I cast one final glance up at the looming silhouette of Carrows, to the place Silas thought he entombed me. My jaw tightens when considering it’s a place he meant to entomb Victoria.
How poetic it will be when he learns who walked out, andwhohe has in his arms.
My only regret is that I will not see the moment his mask cracks—when he realizes what he’s lost. When he seesherfree… and wrapped in the arms of the man who will drag his reign into the dust.
The boat rocksagainst the pier with a hollow thud, the black water slapping against the wood. Mist clings to the surface, rising to mix with the thick, sour air of fish, rust, and salt.
A second dose was needed when Victoria started to rouse. In the event of an emergency, there’s a counter tonic that can be wiped under her nose to aggressively pull her from her sleep. I can’t have her awake and worried. It demands too much from me, the unsealed bond festering. I need to get us safely on land before worrying about her place here.
Beyond the docks, the port is alive. Filled with any and all who will smell her. There’s an undertone of whatever true identity she is, but it’s utterly stained with the life she has lived. From the foods she’s eaten to the oils used in her hair.
