Pulling my arm up over my head, I pounce, ready to thrust the blade into whoever is attacking. As my body flies toward them, a hand reaches up and grips me by the neck. The person is healthy, and as they rise to their feet, they pick me from the ground, dangling me in front of them. The dagger falls from my hand and sticks in the ground below. The hand tightens around my neck. My eyes are wide, and I gasp for air.
This is it. This is where my stories going to end. This isn't how I imagined any of it. I have so much left to fight for.
I kick, but I can't reach them. Just as I think they're about to make the finishing grip, cutting off the air to my lungs, they lower me back down to the ground and use their other hand to pull their hood back.
"Willem! What… What are you doing here?" He releases his hold on me, and I stumble back, rubbing my skin.
Willem bends down and pulls the dagger from the dirt, looking at it suspiciously. He smirks and flips it over, holding it by the blade as he hands it back to me. "You need to stop fighting with your hands and use the power inside of you."
I shake my head, sticking the dagger back in its sheath and pulling the front of my dress down. "I can't. Drogaem has put a lock on my magic. I don't know how long he will keep it there."
Willem stares at me for a second and shakes his head. "It shouldn't be that long. Even the most cunning and talented beings cannot hold another's magic at bay for long. They can affect parts of it, but that is a powerful magic that tends to drain the person."
I brush the dirt off of my cloak and pull it tight around my shoulders. "It doesn't matter anyway. I tried today, and I barely broke the surface of his curse before he stopped me. If I can't use my magic, and I'm forced to fight him, I'll never win. I can't even beat you."
Willem rolled his shoulders, and I can see the edges of his wings poking from beneath his cloak. It hurts my heart, knowing that Kane once had such beautiful wings. Willem lets out an exhausted breath. "There's a difference between Drogaem and me. Drogaem relies purely on his powers, and those powers aren't even natural. His physical strength is nowhere near what mine is. But none of that matters. I wanted you to know I got your letter. I understand you're in a bad place, that everyone is in that place, but we're relying on your magic."
I scoff, turning away from him, staring back at the Castle. "Then, we may all be doomed."
Willem shuffles his feet behind me, but I don't turn around. "Then you better start practicing. You could be so much stronger than Drogaem if you would just try."
I am trying. Willem has no idea. He is stuck in the Castle like we are. He is amending Kane's wounds daily. He isn't being controlled…
I turn, no longer hearing him. He's gone. In front of me is nothing but darkness, and I shake my head, finding it frustrating how little he helps me. I start to head back to the castle, finding my mind fluttering all over the place. There was a relief seeing Willem's face, but he left me even more confused than I was before I came out here.
I stop for a moment and glance toward the city, feeling a profound sadness in my heart. I can remember the first time I heard the celebrations from the streets. None of the beings below are alive, at least not like humans, but they still live their lives, have joy, continue on. And if I don't do something, that will all end.
The sound of footsteps turn my attention back toward the castle. I grip my cloak closed and look around, fearful that it's Drogaem. If he finds me, he will punish me. He knows, even if he acts like he doesn't, that the rebels are close by. But even with the deep penetrating dread in my chest and the unnerving sense of another, I see no one. An eerie chill runs down my spine, and I hurry to the steps, making my way back inside. My meeting with Willem has done nothing, but I have to have hope that he has something planned, otherwise, I don't know how much longer I can keep it up.
Chapter 7
Kane
I stand in the center of the throne room, waiting for them to chain me to the wall again. It seems as if this torture will never end, but my rest last night has given me extra strength. Little by little, I will renew myself. Sitting on the throne chairs, Drogaem is lost in thought, and Briar sits next to him, the massive crown on her head, tired bags beneath her eyes. She was in bed with me when I woke, but I knew she hadn't been there all night. I worry about what happens to her at night. I fear that Drogaem hurts her, and she doesn't tell me. But no matter how strong Briar is, if he were to bed her, she wouldn't be able to hold that back from me.
Her soul is immortal, but her body is still human. With that comes human emotions, human frailty, and that innocence that I find almost arousing when I think of Briar.
Drogaem's eyes tilt up toward me, and I do my best to hold my shoulders back despite the pain from my broken and tattered wings. He looks me up and down and stands, using his magic to force Briar from
