A darklina story~How would the story end if the battle at the climax of Seige & Storm between Alina and the Darkling happened at a different place and time-After the Darkling became the reigning king. What would have happened if the Sun Summoner sur...
‼️This chapter of The True Saint contains depictions of assault and violence. Please proceed with caution.‼️ _______________
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ᗩᖴEᗯᕼOᑌᖇS ᑭᗩSS with no change. One of the men had come in once to exchange my melted chains with new, thicker ones. I do not fight him, not wanting to jeopardize my safety with the Darkling so close. The only sound is the buzzing of the single oil lamp hung above the doorframe. The silence eats through me as horrible scenarios pass through my head and my imagination runs wild. What if the Darkling has already been captured? Maybe Ravka is under attack and he had to stay behind to help. No, I chastise myself. The Darkling is fine. Ravka is sitting quietly awaiting our arrival. I cannot help the pit at the bottom of my stomach that says things are wrong, though.
My worries are interrupted by muted shrieks and screams from outside. The screeching is not human, however. It is unnatural. It is the sound that haunts my nightmares each night. It is the sound of abominations that are created, not summoned. Nichevo'ya. I should have known that the Darkling would use Merzost. Nonetheless, I am too tired to be mad at him for it. There is the cling of metal blades being drawn from their holsters. Guns are being loaded and shot continuously. Human cries echo in the hallways outside of the bunker, still a ways away. Abruptly, the door bursts open and King Grimjer comes in with a group of his men. Somehow, I know this will be the end of this torturous experience. One side will win and the other will be killed. I hope for all of Ravka's sake that it ends in the Fjerdan King's blood, not ours.
"It is time to watch your lover be cut into pieces. After you watch him suffer, you will be next to die slowly and then every witch that belongs to your army," one of the Drüskelle snarls. I scowl at him with scrunched eyebrows. The screams outside continue as I hear flesh being torn open by nichevo'ya. The bite on my shoulder throbs. These men seem awfully calm for how many Fjerdans are being slaughtered. The Drüskelle pulls a dagger from his belt and steps toward me. By the time I use my powers to melt my restraints, they can put a bullet through my head or injure me. I am trapped.
King Grimjer holds up a hand to stop him. "No. I want the Darkling to see me kill his demon wife. It will be much more... meaningful if I do it." As the screeching gets slowly closer, I begin to question just how many nichevo'ya he created. How much vitality did he give to Merzost in order to fight off the mass of Fjerdan soldiers?
My voice breaks as I insult back, "I did not know you were man enough to kill, Grimjer. I thought your henchmen always did that for you so that you wouldn't get a bloodstain on your expensive shirt."
Grimjer takes the knife from the tall man and he inches closer to me. My back hits the wall as I scoot away from him. He lunges forward and grabs me by my hair. "Quiet now, drüsje. The show cannot start until your Darkling arrives." Grimjer pulls me up as far as I can stand with the chains raddling on the ground. My muscles tense up as I feel the press of the cold blade against my throat. At the same moment, I hear a loud sickening snap right outside the door, most likely whoever was guarding it, and the slightly ajar door swings open completely in a cautious manner, revealing the Darkling. He looks tired. The line of his jaw is further defined and his cheekbones are sharper, but he is still effortlessly beautiful.
