Baddie Alina and slightly better Darkling?
What if Alina and stayed the night of the winter fete instead of running away? What if she had chosen the Darkling over Mal? What if the Malina ship sank fast and the Darklina ship sailed?
All these charact...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As I sat on the floor in a small tent, shackles over each wrist, I reflected on my reaction to the Darkling's confession. Yes, he had lied and manipulated me, but he eventually told me. If he had wanted to continue using me, he would not have told me he was the Black Heretic. He must have known it would be a huge turn-off, but he had risked it anyways so that he could stop lying.
It would be so easy to just accept that he was the Black Heretic, tell no one, and continue doing whatever I was doing before I found it out. So easy.
But I couldn't. I couldn't keep kissing someone who had, even if it was only for a while, lied and taken advantage of me. Someone who was a murderer. Someone known throughout Ravkan history as cruel and ruthless. Even if he did love me, he would have to prove it. Prove that he wasn't lying when he told me he loved me. And even then I didn't know if I would be able to forgive him.
Either way, I needed to get out of the chains. Closing my eyes, I focused on the light from the setting sun seeping its way into the tent, melting the chains away from my wrists and ankles. Standing up, I stretched. Seeing the shadows of two guards standing outside the tent flap, I burned a hole in the other side of the tent. Why should I respect the Darkling's property when he had me tied up? The tent needed to be replaced either way, and this made sure that it would be replaced.
As I strolled out, soldiers stared. I glared back, then put a mocking finger over my lips. "It's rude to stare, boys."
One soldier opened his mouth to say something, maybe to call one of my guards, but then he stopped. I had sent a cord of hot light snaking toward him. It was pretty since I made it the same color as the sunset. The grass was burnt everywhere the light touched, and the boy's eyes widened and he quickly walked away. So maybe I was in a little bit of a bad mood.
The rest scattered silently. Good, I thought. Maybe sometimes it is good to be feared.
I made my way through the camp quickly, doing the same thing to everyone who looked too long. Finally, I found the Darkling's tent. The first time I saw it, it was scary and imposing. Now, the extravagance was ridiculous.
Marching straight in, I looked around for him. Then I found him. I couldn't look away from the Darkling's lithe form lounging on a plush chair, glass in hand and a bottle of kvas on the table. He didn't even look up from the book he was reading.
Not acknowledging me, the Darkling continued reading. I knew that he knew that I was there, and I refused to stand there awkwardly, waiting on him, so I walked forward and snatched both his book and the glass of kvas. Making myself comfortable on his bed (which I knew from experience would drive him crazy), I arranged the pillows so that I could sit, drink, and read comfortably. I curled up under the blankets and began to read. Taking a sip, I realized that I had been wrong - it wasn't kvas. It was wine. Very good wine. Of course, the General of the Second Army couldn't be bothered to drink something that peasants drank. Why would he, when he could get fine wine whenever he wanted - at no cost?
