Scorn and Devotion

Chapter 27

Warnings - injury, gore, mentions of rape, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of trauma, murder, talk of torture, kidnapping, mentions of suicide, asking someone to kill someone else, talk of addiction

"I would hold you if I could," Timothée said softly. "But my arm." I looked up at Timothée who was pale and holding his arm much differently than before. It was obvious now he was trying to halt the flow of blood. I didn't have enough energy to form words, but I nodded my head ever so slightly at him.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" purred Abraxas from his throne. He looked like he was caught between the emotions of anger and intrigue.

"Not at all your Highness," Timothée said with a roll of his eyes. He must still have adrenaline pumping through his veins to be so brash to the Dark Lord. As for me, my stores of energy had been so depleted that the thought of doing anything but sitting here, sounded like utter Hell.

"Guards, escort them back to their rooms," The Fae King waved his hand lazily and guards hefted both Timothée and me off our feet. One on either side, they clutched us by our shoulders. Pain shot through my injured shoulder. I had no energy to snap, or maneuver, or inform the guards of how badly they were hurting me.

When the guards had taken us all the way to our room, our feet never once touching the floor, a small kernel of strength had begun to regenerate inside me. Our cell door was blocked by Gadina.

After I had had some rest, I had to ask her what her ties to Abraxas were. He seemed to trust her easily. I wondered if he knew how gentle she had been when patching us up, or how she had told us things she hadn't needed to.

"I'll take it from here," Gadina said sternly. She grabbed us roughly, and the guards

simply nodded and turned away. She must hold some high rank or power to address them so. It took me a moment to register the lavender-colored light leaking from her hands as we were escorted into our cell.

"So you beat the Wyvern," She said cruelly, but her face held no malice. Now that we were behind a closed door, her magic light darkened to violet and streamed more heavily from her hands.

"I bet you think you are mighty special," she gave out a horrific laugh, one that sent chills cascading down my spine, and yet her countenance stayed pleasant.

"Guards, let their first meal tomorrow be full of mold," Gadina ordered as she pulled a bag out of her dress pocket and hid it behind our chamber pot. "That will truly show them just how special we think they are."

I finally understood what the female was doing. She was hiding her attempts to help us. Her magic had been healing us since she had taken hold of our arms, she had hidden rations for us in that bag. She was putting up a good front for the guards who were likely to report her behavior to the King. Who was she in this land? If she was truly our ally, we had to find out what kind of power she held.

She gave us a quick nod and went out the door, slamming and harshly locking it behind her. I tested my ankle gingerly and found it still ached, but I was able to stand on it without it feeling odd or unnatural. I had never broken a bone before, and the complete sense of wrongness had been surprising to me.

"That was kind of her," Timothée said, trying to manage at least a half-smile. I took him in for a moment. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He was pale and gaunt looking from loss of blood but his arm had stopped bleeding. The cut was jagged and awful-looking. I lifted my eyes to his face and met his emerald orbs.

Before I knew what I was even doing, I threw my arms around him. My left hand tangled in his hair while my right clutched his shirt. I pressed my face against his chest, letting myself soak in the realness and solidness of his form. He was alive.