Amara (Tales of a Goddess Book 1)

Ch. 15

Amara POV

I'm still reeling from their revelations when Maddox's words register fully. My breath catches, my heart thudding in my chest. "Chains?" I whisper, a sharp edge of fear slicing through the confusion in my mind. I grip the fur throw tighter around my shoulders, a poor barrier against the cold dread creeping into my bones.

Jasper's face softens a fraction, but Maddox's eyes are focused, almost calculating. There's no room for argument in his expression. "We need to keep you restrained," he says with a slow, deliberate tone that chills me more than his words. "For your safety... and ours."

I flinch but manage to hold his gaze. "You're going to chain me like some animal?"

Maddox's lip twitches into a wicked smile. "If it keeps you from burning down my kingdom, then yes. Precisely like an animal." He leans closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But it's more than that, Amara. I need to enter your mind. Understand what's happening inside you. If you are the reincarnation of a goddess, we need to know which one. We need to know the extent of your powers."

Jasper moves with a grace that belies his uncertainty, retrieving a set of dark iron chains from a cabinet. The sight of them sends a shiver through me. They aren't ordinary chains; they shimmer faintly with a dark, almost sentient energy that prickles against my skin even from across the room.

"Maddox," Jasper murmurs, his eyes flicking between the two of us, "are you sure about this? We don't know what she's capable of yet."

Maddox's eyes remain locked on me. "Exactly why we need to find out. She needs to be bound, so she doesn't tear the place apart while I delve into her mind."

The collar around my neck feels heavier with each passing second, as if it knows what's coming and is preparing for it. My body trembles, not just from the cold but from the anticipation of what's to come. Being chained and having Maddox invade my mind sounds like a violation, but what choice do I have?

I glance at Jasper, seeking some hint of mercy or understanding, but his face is guarded. His lips press together in a tight line, and he nods, almost reluctantly. "It's for the best, Amara. You need to be still for Maddox to enter your mind safely."

My hands curl into fists, nails biting into my palms. "And if I refuse?"

Maddox chuckles darkly, the sound rumbling from his chest like a distant storm. "You're not in a position to refuse, princess." He steps closer, and the space between us seems to shrink to nothing. "If you cooperate, this will go smoothly. If not—" his gaze flickers with a dangerous light, "—well, I'm sure you can imagine."

The air grows heavy, charged with tension. I realize that whatever is coming next, there's no avoiding it. I square my shoulders and lift my chin, even as fear coils like a snake in my gut. "Fine," I say, voice firmer than I feel. "Do what you have to do."

Jasper gently takes my arm and guides me to the headboard, setting me up against the piles of pillows and blankets. He handles me with an almost tender care, but there is no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. "Stay still," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. "This will be over soon."

I nod, my breath shallow as he draws out chains attached to the walls, hidden as I hadn't seen them earlier. He wraps the chains around my wrists and ankles, securing me to the bed. As the final clasp clicks into place, a sharp chill runs through me, and I realize these chains are also imbued with magic—something deep and dark, meant to suppress the power that even now thrums just below my skin.

Maddox prowls towards me, looming over me, his eyes glinting with a dark kind of hunger. "Ready?" he asks, though it's less of a question and more of a statement. He straddles my waist and his hands hover above my forehead, fingers twitching slightly with anticipation.

I don't trust myself to speak, so I just nod, teeth clenched. His palms settle on my temples, and a cold, creeping sensation spreads from where he touches, sinking deep into my skull. My muscles lock tight, and I feel an invasive pressure, like icy tendrils snaking through my mind, prying open doors that were never meant to be touched.

The world around me blurs, and suddenly, I'm not in the room anymore. I'm back in that dream—no, not a dream, a memory of power. Maddox's presence is with me, his consciousness merging with mine, and I feel him searching, digging through my thoughts.

Images flash past—my childhood in Lyridia, my sister Stella's cruel gaze, the nights of crying alone in my room. Then, deeper still, he finds the dormant power I've felt for so long but never fully grasped.

There is a surge of energy, and I see myself again, transformed with silver-white hair crackling like a storm. Maddox is beside me, but this time he is more than just a dark god—he is an amplifier of my wrath, an echo of a forgotten war. I hear his voice in my mind, a low, rumbling presence: "Show me who you are, Amara. Show me your essence."

I resist at first, instinctively drawing back from the probing darkness of his mind. But he's relentless, pulling me further into the depths of myself, peeling back layers of memory and identity. I feel something shift, and then I'm not just Amara anymore—I am Nyxaline, a name that echoes through my consciousness like a bell tolling in the night.

I see flashes of battles waged and empires brought to ruin. Nyxaline, the Goddess of Wrath and Redemption. She is fury incarnate, a beacon of vengeance against the unjust, and yet, also a force of renewal for those who seek forgiveness. The visions grow intense, a whirlwind of destruction and rebirth. I see Maddox's god form beside mine, wielding power not just to destroy but to balance the madness with reason.

Maddox's voice cuts through the chaos, sharper than before. "You are Nyxaline," he murmurs in realization. "Goddess of Wrath and Redemption. A force of both destruction and rebirth. This is why you were drawn to Sylvaria—because here, we thrive on the edge of chaos."

I gasp as the knowledge crashes into me. Everything in me seems to surge with that revelation. Suddenly, Maddox is yanked back, his mind withdrawing from mine like a receding tide. I'm left breathless, my body trembling against the cold stone, my wrists chafed and raw against the chains.

When my eyes flutter open, Maddox is staring down at me with a mixture of awe and calculation. "You're more dangerous than I imagined," he says, almost reverently. "And far more necessary."

Jasper, who has been watching from the edge of the bed, steps closer, his eyes wide. "Nyxaline," he breathes. "A goddess of wrath, yes, but also of rebirth. This could change everything."

Maddox releases a breath, his eyes still on mine, filled with dark fascination. "Indeed. This is just the beginning, Amara. You have no idea what you are capable of. But don't worry," he adds, a wicked smile playing at his lips, "I'm more than happy to help you find out."

His words hang in the air, and though fear still pulses through my veins, there is also a strange sense of clarity. This isn't just about survival anymore. It's about power—mine, Maddox's, Jasper's—and what we're willing to do to claim it.