Damn.
Memories return from before I was dragged here. I remember the wedding. The ceremony had just finished when Vann appeared. We ran to the greenhouse together and…I saw his mating marks.
Heat floods my bones, causing me to physically sit up, pantingslightly as the phantom lips of my memory bruise my own. I had given no resistance—I had leaned into his touch, grateful when his familiar calloused hands scraped over my bare skin.
And then I remember Mrath and Arion. The violence and fear that choked me.
I bring my clammy hand to my forehead, rubbing it. Everything is a mess. I came here to solve a problem, to save the people I love, and to sink into a new life that might make a modicum of change not only in Enduvida but also here in Shvathemar.
And now, Vann has ruined that for me. Again.
Something constricts in my chest. My body seeks him for safety, but my mind knows that when he finds me, ruin follows.
My stomach growls, and I wonder how long I have been without food.
A faint glow bleeds through a small hole in the wall beside me. I crawl toward it, pressing my ear close enough to hear the echo of movement from the other side. Nothing distinct about the person, only the drag of breath and the soft clink of metal. I imagine it’s another prisoner.
“Hello?” My voice scrapes out like a stone coming up my throat.
A part of me wonders if it will be Vann. Would it be cruel or kind to put me so close to him?
It would be idiotic as you already tried to run away together once,Cursed One taunts.Rest assured, the two of you will be on totally opposite sides of this prison.
I frown.
“You are right,” I murmur, still trying to look through the hole.
I am glad you woke up. Without that thing in your chest, you seem to heal very slowly.
I tilt my head to the side.
“You mean the Fuegorra?”
Yes, that. You’ve been…different without it.
I can’t disagree, but I’m surprised she’s noticed. “Different how?”
More vulnerable. I feel like there’s so much more room in here. I was starting to enjoy myself, and then it felt like you were dying.
“Were you worried about me?” I whisper. In this desolate place, itfeels good to talk. The gentle vibrations soothe my dry throat as saliva coats my vocal cords.
If you die, then I lose any chance of experiencing this world again.
A pause.
For a time, at least.
“Funny. It seems the times I’ve been closest to bringing life to someone else are also the times I’ve been closest to death.”
The words slip out of me, unbidden, and suddenly, I return to the night I lost my child. There was so much blood. I was so weak.
And now this presence inside my brain tells me they are able to experience life through me.
Unease breezes through the cell, settling over me like a coating of snow.
You have a child?the thing inside of me asks.
I recoil.