Page 26 of Between Soul and Vessel
I didn’t but . . .
Something was wrong. With me.
Like the prairie ground in the summer, starved from months of having no rain, my skin began to crack apart. At first, the fissures were small, but then, they started to grow bigger, until my body was full of them.
And Von, my mate, my love, my everything—he looked so desperate. So tormented. So completely and irrevocably destroyed.
“No!” he roared, his hands sliding over my skin, trying to keep me from shattering.
It broke me to see him like that.
My lips moved on their own accord. “It’s okay,” I told him, my voice soft. My vision began to blur. “You have to let go of this dream so that you can save me.” I placed my hand over my stomach. “Saveus.”
I awoke to the sounds of someone coughing, hushed conversations, and sputtering sobs. The last sound, I realized, was coming from me. I forced a breath of air into my trembling frame, silencing my desperate cries. Slowly, my eyes flickered open, and my blurred surroundings began to sharpen.
Opal bars surrounded me, shooting all the way up to the ceiling, sectioning me off from the vast, dimly lit dungeon. A small bowl of water, which reminded me of a dog’s dish, sat in front of me, right beside the doorway that led into my cell. Surrounding me were dozens of cells similar to mine, some with a bench, some with a tiny single bed, and some with nothing.
The majority of the prisoners wore sacks over their heads, a braided rope wrapped around their necks, keeping the abrasive-looking fabric in place. Small eyeholes were cut into the cloth. Nearly all of the prisoners looked to be men—judging by their builds—although due to the lack of light, it was hard to tell for sure.
However, there was one other female prisoner, her cell across from mine. She held her hand up against her mouth as she coughed and coughedandcoughed, the sound echoing loudly off the stone walls.
“Would you quit your hacking?” mumbled the prisoner in the cell next to hers, his voice barely audible through the thick fabric. He was curled up on a bench. “I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Can’t help it,” she wheezed, her lungs rattling in her chest before she started to cough some more. “I’ll be deadcome Saturday’s games, anyway.”
Games?I wondered.
“Same,” said another, then another, and another. Others nodded, a solemn look filling their eyes.
I realized the majority of them were going to die this weekend. I didn’t know what they had done to deserve such a fate.
A small voice inside of me whispered,Nothing. They didn’t do anything to deserve this. You can save them.
I ignored it.
There was a time when I’d once thought myself a savior, a defender of innocent life, but I hadn’t even been able to protect myself.
I couldn’t even protect ourchild.
I rolled over, turning toward the wall. I realized that my bottom felt wet, and so did the floor. Cheek sliding against stone, I looked down—I had been dressed in a plain, cotton shift. Down below, the fabric was wet, clinging to my body. My legs slid against the cold and unforgiving floor as I pulled them up toward my chest, my arms wrapping around my knees.
And so, there I lay, the Goddess of Life, covered in my own urine.
I wasn’t a savior. I wasn’t a fighter. I wasn’t a warrior.
I was nothing.
The Goddess of Nothing.
Footsteps sounded in the distance, growing nearer until they stopped outside of my cell.
“Open it,” said a female voice—one I had heard beforebut couldn’t quite put a name to.
“Alright,” replied another.
Keys jangled at the entrance. Hinges squealed as the door swung open. I didn’t bother to look.
“Set it over there,” the first voice directed.
