Page 63 of Steeling Light
And I don’t care about them at all. I’ve been here for hours, and only a short while ago, I felt her cry out through the bond. Before, I’d been at peace and even a bit proud that I’d defied my father. Now, all I can focus on is that Ainslee is close by, but she’s not here. Why would she be in the Keep of Steel instead of at the walls? Pain radiates through the bond like a heartbeat. Constant and unchanging.
I swore I wouldn’t let her get hurt, and she’s still hurting. I want to hunt her down, but I’m not used to the bond yet. As soon as I step out of the barracks, I know that I’m going to feel that molten metal running down my spine for disobeying my father. How well will I be able to find her then?
She’s alive, though. I’m sure of that. “Damn it all,” I finally say and go to the door. As soon as I decide to defy my father’s order, I feel the pain course through me. I snarl, but it doesn’t even slow me down. I reach for the doorknob, but before I’ve touched it, it swings inward toward me, and I have to step back.
My father walks into the room with anger on his face. He’s pulsing with power. Cole and Maeve must have found him and made him fight. Was Ainslee with them?
“You will come with me,” he says and turns around.
I refuse to succumb to my body’s desire to do as he says. Currently, I’m out of the battle. I’m not helping my father. I don’t know where he’s going to lead me, though, and that means I could end up holding a sword against the ones who are in the right.
He looks behind him and says, “Fine. Stay if you wish. I just thought that you’d want to see your betrothed one last time before she returns to the void.”
I followed my father. Just as he knew I would. How did he realize I was betrothed? How did he catch Ainslee? How does he always know where the knife is so that he can twist it inside me?
He leads me to my study. Every step seems heavier than the last as I realize he’s not playing a trick on me. The betrothal bond only gets stronger, and the pain becomes searing and white hot.
When we’re standing outside my study, a soft whimper can be heard over the sounds of the battle outside. Like a wounded animal’s cry, it pulls at my heartstrings. Because I know it’s Ainslee, it’s so much worse. My father steps to the side and opens the door for me to see what he’s done.
She’s hanging from the wall, her arms and legs pinned to it with steel spikes so that she cannot heal the wounds even slowly. Around her heart is a ring of spikes, keeping her body from shifting as my father or I would do, to remove a limb so that we could free ourselves.
Blood runs down the Steel uniform she wears, a mix of crimson and black. Normally, seeing what my father’s done makes my heart sink, but this time, rage bubbles to the surface instead. I run to the woman I love, whose eyes are closed. Her soft whimpers are like daggers in my heart. Her pain is my pain, but it doesn’t slow me down. No, this is a spur that moves me to action.
I run as fast as ever, but my father’s words are faster. “If you release her, I will kill her. You cannot protect this woman from me, and you know it.”
I stop, my hands inches from the first spike I was going to pull from her chest. I turn to him, and without thinking, I reach inside my chest to draw the blade that I’ve trained with my entire life. Two-handed. Black steel. The sigil of our House stamped into the crossguard—two swords over a shield. It is a blade that no one but I could wield without growing, not even my father.
“I may not be able to protect her, but I can kill you,” I say without an ounce of fear.
“No, you can’t,” he responds, “but if that’s what will finally convince you to do as you’re commanded, then try your best.”
He doesn’t stop me with a command. He doesn’t use his most potent weapon against me, and for the first time in my life, I have a clear chance to end the man who has done so many terrible things.
I charge him, hoping to use my significant weight advantage against him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t draw his weapon, and doesn’t call on the Steel Gauntlet’s power. It’s almost as if he’s surprised at my movement.
At the last moment, his right side becomes larger, and his left side thins. The silver commander’s jacket that he wears to every battle hangs strangely as though half of him has disappeared.
I’m ready for it. I know my father’s powers because they are the same as my own. Instead of trying to hit him with my shoulder as I’d do with anyone else to throw him off balance, I plant my feet and swing the six-foot long sword at his chest, along his heart-line.
He bends his knees as I begin my swing, and as I put my full force behind the cut, he simply falls forward and rolls toward me. I let go of my sword before the swing is complete, and the blade goes flying, but it leaves my hands free. My father stands up with perfect grace in the exact place that I expect, and my hand comes down hard with my full body weight behind it. It’s supposed to be a punch to the shoulder to throw him off balance enough that I can get my hands around him.
But his shoulder is gone, and his commander’s jacket is only being held up by a thin bit of flesh. Instead of him being thrown off balance, I nearly fall. My father moves faster than I ever have, and with fingers made of elongated, sharpened bone, he stabs me with all five fingers. They pierce my breast, each finger sliding past ribs as they move to my heart, and I feel them brush every Immortal’s weakness.
I stop moving. A single scratch from those dagger-like pieces of bone on my heart will have me completely incapacitated. “How long have I told you that you are weak, Rhion? Yet even now, you surprise me with your incompetence. It took me less than a minute to best you.”
He looks into my eyes and squeezes just the smallest amount, and I know just how easily he could end me. Still, I don’t beg or cower before him.
“It would be better to die than to help you,” I snarl. “So if you’re going to do it, be done with it already. I will not help you. I will not be your blade to ruin this world.”
He smiles at me. “I had a feeling you would say that. I don’t care why you fight for me, only that you do.” He pulls his hand back, releasing my heart from his grip, and it’s like I can breathe again. I take a breath, and my wounds are healed.
In that short time, my father moved to Ainslee. His bone finger scrapes over the place at the center of the steel spikes, the tip of it leaving a thin line of crimson across her skin. “I will not kill you, Rhion. I will kill your betrothed. I will take her from you, and I will force you to live knowing that you failed to protect her because of your weakness.”
I want to charge him again, but he’s not wrong. He could have killed me without ever having drawn a weapon.
I stare at the woman I love with all my heart. I told her I’d protect her no matter what. I told her I’d watch the world burn to keep her safe. I’ve failed her. The blood running down her chest and dripping to the floor proves it. Her soft cries solidify it. My father’s finger leaves another shallow cut over her heart as he watches me assess the situation. He knows that he’s won.
“What do you need me to do?” I finally ask.
