gloomy cells under the keep, and the twisted, white mass of bones that covered the entire length of the ceiling, the fight in me came back. There was no way I would just allow myself to be placed somewhere it appeared people never left. Not even when they died.
Delano hadn’t been prepared.
I broke his hold and made it to the end of the hall only to realize the sole exit was the entrance. I squared off with him but was cornered, and with backup in the form of another who had eyes that were almost as gold as Hawke’s, I was dragged into the cell that had a thin mattress on the floor and then shackled, the cold iron snapping over my wrists.
And then I was alone.
I turned around, seeing no way out. The gaps in the bars were too narrow, and when I pulled on the chains, the hook they were connected to didn’t budge.
Panic bubbled up as I took a step back. How had this happened? How did I go from anticipating a future that would be all mine, where I controlled what I did and what happened to me, to this? To being chained in a cell, surrounded by people who wanted to chop me into pieces?
I knew the answer.
Hawke.
The slice of agony cutting through my chest overshadowed the pain in my stomach. My throat and eyes burned. Hawke…he wasn’t even mortal. He was an Atlantian, His people had created the Cravens that had become an unstoppable plague upon this land, the very same creatures who’d murdered my parents and almost killed me. He supported the Dark One, who had killed the last Maiden and was after me. Hawke and the wolven were the embodiment of anything the gods had turned against and the humans had rose up against. They were why the Ascended had been Blessed by the gods.
How had I not seen him for what he was? Could I be that foolish? Or was he simply that clever?
Or a mixture of both?
Because Hawke had been good. He’d said and done all the right things, and I’d been so desperate to make a real connection with someone, to experience life and feel alive. So desperate that anything that may have served as a warning wasn’t even acknowledged. He’d come to Masadonia with one order: gain access to me. He had done that and more. Gained my friendship, my trust, my…
A pulsing, pounding anger and sorrow swept through me. I wanted to scream, but the sound couldn’t make it past the knot of emotion in my throat.
Why did he have to…do what he had? Everything he’d said and done was nothing more than clever artifice. When he told me that I was brave and strong. When he said I was beautiful. His seemingly single-minded focus hadn’t been based on duty but on orders. And I’d believed it. I’d fallen for it.
Was anything true?
His pain was.
That much I knew, but the source of it? I could no longer be sure.
Lifting trembling hands to my face, I tucked back the hair that had escaped my braid. Why did he have to go so far, though? Why did he have to get under my skin and into my heart? I didn’t just trust him. I’d given myself to him. All of me.
And it had been a lie.
He’d known from the beginning who I was, from the very first night in the Red Pearl, and I’d unknowingly exposed so much about myself to him.
Moving to the corner of the cell, I sat on the mattress and slowly leaned against the wall, breathing out a slow, measured breath as a fiery ache sliced over my stomach. I glanced down at my right hand. The knuckles were bruised and swollen from the punch I’d delivered. My smile was quick to fade. I doubted Hawke showed any sign of injury. He was an Atlantian.
My stomach tumbled.
A part of me couldn’t believe it. He seemed so…mortal, but why should that surprise me? Atlantians could pass for mortals, just as the wolven could. I’d kissed an Atlantian.
I’d slept with an Atlantian.
I squeezed my eyes shut as bile climbed up my throat. I couldn’t think about that. It made screams echo in my mind. I needed to focus.
What was I going to do?
This whole town was full of Descenters and Atlantians who wanted me dead, and I couldn’t be more grateful that Tawny had remained behind. Obviously, I was being held until the Dark One either arrived