Author's Note – Trigger Warning
This chapter contains violence, captivity, and death. There are psychological trauma, emotional suffering, and inferred prior sexual violence themes. Nothing is described graphically, but the content is possibly emotionally impactful or will trigger some readers.
I looked at the lines carved into the wall—three weeks since we were taken. After they brought me back into the room with Tessa and Alina, I found out I had been unconscious for a week. It's been two weeks since I woke up.
These men—no, monsters—haven't let a single day pass without reminding us exactly why we're here. Whether it's dragging one of us out, forcing us to listen, or threatening something worse, they haven't stopped.
I look down at my body. They were right about that ointment. It doesn't leave scars. They stopped putting it on me after a few days. I gave the jar to Tessa because they couldn't be bothered anymore. But I'm not allowed to be marked. That was the order. No scars. No visible damage. Just fear.
Tessa found out why they took us. Ashkar wanted war with Drevak. So they stole the royal wives—not to kill us, but to bait a trap, to make Drevak angry enough to strike first.
Malrik wouldn't fall for that. But the question that has been sitting in my chest since the day I woke up is this: Would Kael?
The door slammed open, and we all flinched. Tessa scrambled back into the corner, her eyes wide. Alina didn't move. She just looked up, spine stiff, hands folded neatly in her lap as if she were waiting for it. Two men stepped inside, their armor dented and their faces shadowed by helmets. One of them carried a blade, and the other wore a smile.
"Well," said the man with the smile, scanning the room, "looks like one of you just became completely useless." My stomach dropped. Alina closed her eyes. "Word just came in," he continued, almost cheerfully. "King Malrik has taken a lover. It's a very public one. It seems your royal husband didn't think you were worth the trip, sweetheart." He walked toward her slowly, the blade dragging behind him with a soft scrape. "Orders are orders. Dead weight gets cut."
I shot to my feet. "No—"
"Ah, ah, ah." The other man raised his hand, and three more stepped into the room. Too many. Too fast. "No word on the prince yet," the first one said, turning to me. "So congratulations, princess. You get to live a little longer." He turned back to Alina. "But she doesn't."
Alina looked at me one last time. There was no fear in her eyes, just resignation—as if she had known this was coming and was almost grateful it was over. "No!" I lunged forward, but rough hands grabbed my arms and yanked me back. Tessa screamed as they pinned her to the wall. "Stop! Please, don't!" The man raised the blade. "Alina!" I screamed. She didn't flinch. The blade came down.
It was fast. Hard. Final.
The sound of the blade on her bone turned my stomach. Tessa sobbed. I twisted against the guards holding me, trying to get to her, trying to do something, but it was already done. Alina's body crumpled sideways on the floor, blood spreading beneath her like ink through paper. "Malrik left his queen to die in silence. Think Kael will be any different, princess?" He smirked as he stepped over Alina's body. "One queen down. Let's see how long it takes the prince to notice his bride is next."
My blood ran cold—not from fear, at least not the kind they wanted. I looked at him, lifting my chin even as my stomach turned. Her blood soaked into the straw like it had always belonged there. Don't look at her. Don't look down.
"I hope he doesn't come." He blinked, surprised. The smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, uncertain for just a moment. "Because if he doesn't," I continued, "then all of this was for nothing. Your plan. Your bait. Your war. Useless."
Make them doubt. Make them question. If they think Kael won't come, they may waste the only chance they have to use me. He stared at me, then let out a low chuckle. "Don't worry, princess," he said. "We'll send the body to Drevak. See how long Kael stays quiet then." My jaw clenched. I didn't move or speak. I just kept breathing. The guards holding me released their grip first, their fingers slipping away from my arms as if I were nothing—a discarded tool left on the floor.
Tessa hit the ground when they let her go, curling in on herself with her shoulders shaking. She didn't make a sound. The man with the blade knelt beside Alina's body, grabbing her wrist as if it were a sack of flour. Blood smeared across his gauntlet. I didn't look away. I should have. I wanted to, but I didn't. They dragged her by the arms, her heels catching in the straw. She wore no crown, no jewels, no silks—only blood and bruises.
Yet somehow, she still looked like a queen, even in death. The door closed behind them with a dull thud, leaving us alone. I stared at the floor where her blood stained the straw. There was something about the shape of it, the way it curled toward the wall. I had seen this before, though not precisely, but close enough, in the last vision. The smell. The light. The silence. The cold tightening in my gut. This moment had already been written, and I still couldn't stop it. Tessa didn't move. She remained curled up on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her breath ragged but quiet.
I slid down the wall until I hit the ground, my legs folding beneath me. My fingers twitched in my lap as if they didn't know what to do without a fight to claw at. The room smelled like metal. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wished I could reach back in time and pull Alina away from that blade.
But all I could do was sit in the cold and wonder how many more of my visions would come true before I figured out how to change one.
I closed my eyes, and the battlefield rose again behind my eyelids. Not this room. Not Alina. Kael. The blood. The scream. His body fell into the snow. That future still awaited me. For him. And if I couldn't stop this, how was I supposed to prevent that? Tessa remained silent for a long time, her breathing shaky, shallow, and broken. I wasn't sure she even realized I was still there. Finally, she whispered, "Do you think he'll come?"
I opened my eyes. "Kael?" I asked. She nodded.
I swallowed hard. "I hope he doesn't." Her head turned toward me, confusion flickering behind the red in her eyes. "I meant what I said," I murmured. "I don't want him to come because if he does, they'll kill him. Or worse. This is what they want—Drevak to strike first."
Tessa was quiet, her breath catching in her throat. "But that's the thing," I added, my voice hollow. "If he doesn't come, I die here. And if he does..." My throat tightened. "He dies there." I let the silence linger between us before saying what I never thought I would articulate out loud. "I saw it before we were taken. A battlefield. Snow. Blood. His blood." Tessa's eyes widened slowly. "What do you mean, you saw it?"
"I have visions," I explained. "They come in my sleep. I don't choose them, and I can't control them. But they always come true—unless I make a change. I couldn't stop this, and I don't know if I can stop what's coming."
Tessa leaned in, her voice barely audible. "Does anyone else know?"
I nodded once. "My family and Thalen." She hesitated. "Does he know? Kael?"
I looked back at the blood, at its shape curling like a question I couldn't answer. "I don't want him to know," I whispered. "Not until I can change something. Not until I can stop what's coming." Tessa didn't speak for a long time. She just watched me, the weight of what I had said settling between us like another body on the floor. Finally, she reached out slowly and laid her hand over mine.
"I won't tell," she said. "I swear it." Her touch was warm and grounding, evoking a sensation in my chest that ached.
"Thank you," I whispered. We sat in silence, our hands resting together on the cold stone, surrounded by the memory of blood and the echo of things we couldn't change. For the first time since I left Velthorne, I didn't feel completely alone.