Page 66 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
"Very normal," Sirrax assured him, though I could hear the strain in his own voice. "Knot designed to bring maximum pleasure. Ensure mating successful. She feel good, yes, little mate?"
I could only whimper in response, my ability to form coherent words long since abandoned.
The warmth of Sirrax's body behind me, the gentle touches of my other mates as they settled around us, and the deep satisfaction thrumming through our bonds all combined to create a cocoon of safety I desperately needed.
I felt the others arranging themselves on the bed around us—Marcus curling up beside me where he could keep a protective hand on my arm, Antonius settling behind him, Septimus and Tarshi finding their place together on my other side. Even Jalend moved from his chair to the foot of the bed, unwilling to be separated from our makeshift nest.
I lost track of time after that, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure that bordered on transcendent. Every few minutes, another wave would build and crest, leaving me gasping and shaking in Sirrax's arms. The others took turns comforting me, stroking my hair, whispering reassurances as the dragon's knot kept us locked together, until eventually as the sky lightened outside, the knot retracted and I fell instantly into a deep sleep, Sirrax still buried inside me.
22
The summons came at dawn, delivered by a nervous young initiate who wouldn't meet my eyes. Aytara wanted to see me, along with Livia and Tarshi. There was something she needed to show us, something that couldn't wait.
I almost refused. After what had happened last night—after I had put my hands on Livia with violence in my heart—I didn't deserve to be in the same room as her, let alone wherever Aytara was planning to take us. But the voices in my head whispered that hiding would only prove what a coward I truly was, and for once, I found myself agreeing with them. I dragged myself out of bed, still groggy from whatever it was the healers had given me to make me sleep. I wasn’t feeling much better after washing and dressing, but the shadows in my mind were quieter than normal, which was something.
The journey began innocuously enough. Aytara led us through familiar corridors of the temple, past the healing chambers and meditation halls. But instead of stopping at any of the places I recognized, she continued deeper, through a heavy bolted door I'd never really noticed before. The polished stone gave way torougher walls, then to crude tunnels carved directly from the mountain's bones.
Livia walked beside me, carrying one of the two torches that provided our only light. She treated me exactly as she always had—no fear in her eyes, no hesitation when she brushed against my arm in the narrow passages. It was wrong. She should be afraid of me. She should hate me for what I'd almost done.
She's pretending,the voices whispered, their chorus growing stronger with each step we took into the depths.She's terrified of you. They all are. You saw the truth in her eyes last night when you showed her what you really are.
I wanted to argue with them, but how could I? I had felt the darkness surge through me, had felt my hands move with intent to harm the woman I loved more than my own life. The memory of her terrified face, of the way I had tried to hurt her, and those that came to protect her from me, played over and over in my mind like a recurring nightmare.
"Taveth?" Livia's voice was soft, concerned. "Are you all right?"
I couldn't look at her. "I'm fine."
Liar,the voices hissed.Tell her the truth. Tell her how much you enjoyed the fear in her eyes. Tell her how part of you wanted to hurt her, to make her scream.
"No," I said through gritted teeth, not caring that the others could hear me arguing with the darkness in my head.
The tunnel sloped downward, and with each step, I felt the pressure in my skull intensify. It was like being slowly crushed by invisible hands, the weight of something vast and malevolent pressing down on my mind. The voices grew louder, more insistent, their whispers becoming a roar that threatened to drown out my own thoughts.
You know what you are,they said.You know what you've always been. A killer. A monster. Last night was just thebeginning. Soon you won't be able to stop yourself, and she'll finally see the truth.
I stumbled, catching myself against the rough stone wall. My breathing was coming in sharp gasps and sweat beaded on my forehead despite the cool air of the tunnels.
"The pressure is getting stronger," I managed to tell Aytara, my voice strained. "I don't know how much longer I can—"
"Not much further," she said without turning around. "You need to be strong, Taveth. What I'm going to show you... it's important. More important than you can imagine."
Strong. The word would have been laughable if I'd had the energy to laugh. How could I be strong when I was barely holding myself together? How could I be strong when the darkness was winning, when I was becoming everything I'd fought against?
I felt a hand settle on my shoulder—Tarshi's hand, warm and steady. Immediately, some of the crushing pressure eased, as if my twin's presence was pushing back against the weight trying to destroy my mind.
"I can feel it too," he said quietly, his voice tight with strain. "Like shadows pressing in from all sides. Like being slowly crushed by the darkness itself."
The relief of not being alone with this, of having someone who understood even a fraction of what I was experiencing, nearly brought me to my knees. But it also made the guilt worse. I was dragging my brother down with me, sharing this curse that should have been mine alone to bear.
Livia's small hand found mine, her fingers intertwining with my own despite everything. Despite what I was, what I'd done, what I might do again.
"I'm here with you," she whispered, her voice fierce and determined. "You're not alone in this. You're not going through this by yourself."
But I was alone. Even surrounded by the people who claimed to love me, I was isolated in a prison of my own making. Because the truth that none of them wanted to acknowledge was becoming clearer with every passing moment: the voices weren't separate from me anymore. The darkness wasn't some external force I was fighting.
It was me. It had always been me.
And last night, when I had looked into Livia's eyes and felt nothing but rage and the desire to hurt her, I had finally seen myself clearly. Not the man I pretended to be, not the person they all believed I could become, but the monster I had always been underneath.
