The Darkness That Binds Us

Chapter 18: The Truth

Brightness. I awake to the shining white glare of sunlight through silted curtains. It hurts. I screw my eyes shut, pounding forehead creasing.

Without thinking, i turn from the light. Rolling onto my back, cradled head sinking even deeper into the velvet cushions. My eyes flicker open without me realising. I am staring at a starless night sky. No, not a sky, a dome of obsidian flecked with mother of pearl...

I shoot bolt up right, heart clawing at my ribcage. I can see everything. The rucked black silk sheets. The deep pine-green drape of canopy curtains; The carved ebony murals; the cold swirling marble floor; the chaise; the darkling.

He isn't wearing a kefta. He's in bedwear, a sight which seems wholly unholy. Long, loose-fitting, basalt grey silk with a black fanned smoking robe which pools around him, glistening iridescent in the sunlight. His hair is wild and unkept, a swirling black tangle of storm clouds which hangs heavy above impossibly long eyelashes.

Sitting there, wrapped in the thinnest of garments, hunched over a steaming cup of tea, unfocused silvery-eyes staring dully into its depths, the darkling looks so... vulnerable, so naked, so unbearably human...

Then, his eyes cut up sharply, focusing on mine.

This is too much. This is all too much. I can see every single ink-black hair on his head with perfect clarity, every faded trace of a scar over his flawless snow-features, the curve of his lips, the cut, everything.

I should be dead. Nausea hits me as i realise the extent of my miserable failure. The murals on the wall seem to slither, coiling in on the room. Curtains shift. Sheets ripple. The black marble floor is a whirlpool, pulling me under. I failed you again Mal.

Depression, defeat and despair mix to make a potent cocktail. The walls close tighter, there's barely space to breathe, i reach for the darkling, but he is the only thing that seem's distant. Sat in the furthest corner of the room, i can not reach him.

Aleksander.

"Al.." I try to speak, but gag instead. A sharp pain tugs at the back of my raw throat, "Alek..."

"-Shhh!" his index finger flies to his lips, hovering there, "Shhhhh..." he smooths the sound over in his mouth "...don't try to speak."

I struggle to sallow the bile in the back of my throat, choking on it, the world rocks unsteadily and i feel myself sway with it. I start to fall forward, bracing my arms out in front me. I groan, a low, guttural sound.

"Shhhh..." the world continues to spin. "Shhhh... I know, Alina, it's okay, your safe." He's using that same patronising whisper-tone again. "You're at the little palace, nothing is going to hurt you..." the world begins to slow.

"Close your eyes." Despite myself, my eyelids can't help but slide shut, letting the cool darkness wash over me. "That's it, just listen to the sound of my voice... Can you do that for me, Alina?" I sallow hard, ignoring the pain.

"Good." He breaths, his voice the barest shadow of a sound. "Now, listen to me Alina. You can't speak -not forever, just until the Corporalki are done healing your throat. It is vital that you don't talk..." he explains calmly, "you risk permeant damage to vocal cords. Understand?" I open my eyes to scowl at him. He returns an impassive, evaluative gaze, studying me closely.

The disorientating nausea is gone, but i still feel light-headed. My arms quiver silently, as though debating whether to give way. I feel woozy, which i image a side effect of the blood loss, but i have to ask.

"How..." I croak. "How many days?"

The darkling doesn't answer, which is the all the answer i need. Everything inside me sinks. I look down, biting my lip until it bleeds. I start to groan again. "No..."