Page 16 of Queen Takes Sunfires 1
Rationally, I knew that wasn't fair to either of them. There had been extenuating circumstances and reasons, I was sure, that I had never been told. Giving them both the benefit of the doubt was beyond me, though. I'd grown up watching a wolf king be mistreated by his queen. Dreading her hand on the leash. Not because she was cruel or unjust. No.
Because my father had gone so eagerly to that surrender.
Hewantedto be caged. He wanted to be controlled. I couldn't justify a wolf king with such a submissive urge. He'd been weak. He'd been afraid. He'd rather live on the other side of prison bars than risk making a mistake or losing control in a moment of fierce joy or rage.
I'd take the rage, thank you very much.
Even if it meant I would never know the power a queen's blood could give.
7
Karmen
Istared at the door a moment, wondering at his abrupt exit. Nothing I'd known in my life had prepared me for such an enigma. He was rude and harsh and barely spoke more than grunts and snarls, especially when he was angry. Which seemed to be most of the time. But he'd taken me away from the immediate danger. I could only trust that this place was as safe as it could possibly be.
Even though my skin burned as the sun crept higher in the sky.
My mouth still ached, but I ignored it. Evidently, I was as talented at ignoring pain and discomfort as the wolfman was at embracing his rage.
The room was exactly as I'd specified. Small, dark, with no windows or other exits. The door at the opposite side of the room led to an equally small and dark bathroom. Dingy, yes, but I could deal with that. I'd seen entirely too much grandeur...
I froze, letting that thought play out.Images of gold upon gold upon gold fluttered through my mind. A room that had been my prison. Walls and floors of gold. No other colors to soften the harsh gleaming gold. Even the pillows, cushions, and rugs were gold. I looked up...
Searing pain made me flinch and quickly look down, eyes streaming at the memory. There hadn't been any ceilings. That was what had been bugging me as we'd driven through the city. These buildings all had ceilings and roofs. But in... the city...Hiscity...
What is the fucking name?Frustrated, I stared at myself in the dirty, streaked mirror. Shock edged out my lingering irritation at my spotty memory. I looked gaunt and weak with dark hollows beneath my eyes. My cheekbones stood out stark and angular. My eyes were sunken and weary, as if I'd seen unimaginable horrors.
I had. I just didn't remember them. Thankfully.
My hair was dark red and striped with wide golden highlights. My eyes were mostly brown, I thought, but tinged amber. There was something weird about my eyes. A warning, I thought. But the tidbit escaped me.
I held my arms out, examining the rest of my body as if I'd never seen it before. My arms were thin and scrawny. So were my legs. I allowed the hospital gown to flutter to the floor and turned, looking over my shoulder at myself in the mirror. My skin was ridged with thick, white scars. Looking closer at my arms, I confirmed they bore the same scars, though fainter and shaped differently. Pockets of scar tissue, almost like fingerprints.
Shuddering, I pushed that thought out of my mind. I wasn't ready yet. I didn't want to remember.But this time, my mind was determined to replay that memory like a horror movie inside my own head.
He was as golden as the room, the palace, the entire city that had been built for him. Liquid, melted, searing gold. Every touch was blazing pain. He liked to see agony in my eyes. It was the ultimate adoration for him.
Suffer for me, he used to say.Show me how much you love me.
And I had. I’d borne the pain in silence. I hadn’t fought him or tried to stop him. I’d known it was impossible. He owned me, body and soul. I couldn’t escape.
All I could do was survive.
The memory faded, though my brain twitched and flinched with lingering horror. I stared at my hollowed, hopeless eyes. My scarred body. There was a deep, precious well inside me that had once been overflowing with bubbling power that had been full of promise. Now that well was bone dry and cracked. I didn’t think it would ever hold joy or power again.
But I was still here. I looked at myself in the dirty mirror, and for the first time in ages, I was free to let emotion shine in my eyes. A hint of hope. The fire of determination. The flicker of my long-burning rage.
I’d been forced to swallow those emotions for so long that they’d eaten me from the inside out, destroying my life. My memories. My power.
He hadn’t taken my power from me.
I had lost it. No, I’d destroyed it. So he couldn’t have it.
I stared at the image in the mirror and I didn’t recognize myself. But pride sparked in my eyes.
I had stood in the fires of solar hell and lived to tell about it. I had withstood the rage and cursed affection of a golden, vengeful monster. I’d been burned to a blackened, crisp husk, but I still lived.
Even his sunfires would not destroy me.
