Page 88 of The Curse of Ophelia

His face fell at my dismissal. “It’s hard to tell without windows. Maybe half a day.”

“Half a day?” I turned away from him, inspecting the bars of my cage for weaknesses.

“Could be more or less.”

“Helpful,” I muttered in a tone I had never used against Malakai before. The rage that had pooled within me since he left mounted again, feeling familiar and foreign all at once. I thought I had escaped the shadow of fury that followed me, but it was like an old friend lying in wait. Malakai’s lies had opened that door again. This fresh wave of anger was for him.

But I wasn’t ready to face it, yet. I needed to survive Lucidius first, though a part of me wondered which was more likely to kill me: Malakai’s betrayal or his father.

“Where are my weapons?” I asked, still not looking at him.

“Lucidius took them when you fell. Unstrapped the ones from your belt and thighs and the…spear.” He stumbled over the word.

“The spear. It’s mine?” Mine, not his as I was led to believe my entire life. It had felt like an extension of myself from the first moment I held it, felt that pulse pass between us. I attributed that to Malakai’s lost presence, but I should have known. That feeling went deeper, the weapon calling to my blood. Awakening something within me.

“Yes.” My heart cracked further, a hole widening within it.

“Okay.”

“Ophelia, let me—”

“No, Malakai.” I finally looked over my shoulder to find his gaze burning into me. “I’m not ready to hear any excuses from you. I don’t want them.”

Silence.

“How do we get out of here?” I asked, turning away again, unable to face the conflicted pleading and ire that mingled in his expression.

“The bars are sealed magically. Only fire melts them. I’ve seen them used. If we get out of the cage, I’m not sure where to go. But we can find our way out, together.” His voice was stronger than before, as though finding a way out of this would fix something between us.

Together. I had longed for together for so long. But now that it was here, just an arm’s stretch away, I was not sure if I could feel it.

I walked to the side of my cage that faced Malakai’s and knelt down, the metal sending chills through the knees of my leathers. Malakai scrambled to me, gripping the bars on either side of his face, awaiting my next words.

I took a ragged breath over the hole in my chest. I wasn’t sure if there was a future in our together, but that didn’t wipe away the past or the present.

“And you’re…are you okay?” My voice cracked over the words. They sounded ridiculous, because I knew there was no world in which he was okay at all. But, Spirits, please let him survive. Despite everything—no matter what came next for us—I needed him.

He sighed, shoulders drooping as his hands slid down the bars. “I don’t know,” he admitted. I waited for him to continue. “Physically, I’m fine right now. The magic here heals all of my injuries and pushes drugs through my system quickly. Mentally…emotionally…I don’t know.”

My heart cracked with each word. I looked into the green eyes I had missed so desperately, but lies and deceit clouded my view of them. I thought back to the utter perfection our lives had been before he left, and it felt tainted. Like we had existed in our own realm. The spotless glass that held our relationship shattered, and I was left standing among the shards. Perhaps it had always been an illusion—that bliss nothing more than a figment of young love.

I pushed away from the bars and settled against the rock, letting the solid presence of something natural steady me. Questions continued to fall stoically from my lips. About Lucidius’s past. About what he planned for us. About who else may be here. And I told him about the Curse, about Damien’s quest, and about the journey to the mountains.

But we never spoke about us. Never spoke about the betrayal Lucidius revealed, and never spoke about what would come next, should we survive.

Anger lifted Malakai’s voice every so often, but he stifled it—answering my questions quickly and obediently like a lashed creature. It twisted my gut, because he had been lashed, and here I was, salting the wound instead of nurturing it.

But I was also hurt, and there was a long road before healing. Despair sank into my bones as I wondered if we would ever heal. Could things ever be the same, or were we destined to be torn apart? I ran a thumb over the tattoo on my arm, feeling his dampened spirit twisting along that thread in my body.

As I looked at the bars towering above us, one realization came to me. I at least wanted a chance to decide if healing was possible. A fierce determination sparked within me. Because healing would not matter if we died here.

Chapter Forty-One

I couldn’t be sure how long we sat in silence after my questions trailed off. It may have been minutes or hours, the only sounds Malakai’s and my uneven breathing, each listening intently for any move from the other, but neither wanting to break the still truce we had fallen into. No matter what came next, we were in this together for now. We had to be if we wanted a chance to survive. But the truth hovered between us—rotten and putrid.

Everything I had learned in the preceding hours swarmed through my mind on repeat. Each time I got to his deceit, it was like a fresh slice to my heart. But he had wounds, too. Physical and mental.

We were both hurting. I had to remember that.

---