Dawn of Ash (Imdalind, #6)

Frozen in place, I watched him, his voice echoing through me as the rhythm of the steps behind me ripped against my pulse. Sain had barely ceased to speak when he collapsed to the ground in body-seizing sobs.

“Ovailia!” Damek’s voice cut through the cries unexpectedly, my spine jerking as I turned toward him, all of the confusing emotions swirling though me as I fought the need to take everything out on the man before me. It was something that was a real possibility, and judging by the fear that overtook the despicable man’s face, it was something he expected.

He withdrew under my gaze, his eyes wide with fear as the sound of Sain’s forced sobs continued to ring around us.

I couldn’t help smiling at the fear that crossed over Damek’s face. At least I knew I could still make people wilt before me.

“How many times have I told you,” I snarled, the fear on his face increasing with each word, “not to call me that?”

“Yes, my lady.” He cowered, his back moving into a curve so low I was certain he had been practicing.

Damek recoiled in a movement so eerily similar to the man who lay whimpering on the cave floor behind me that I stiffened. My magic flitted between the two of them with the same confusion I had been fighting, a decision I never thought I would have to make becoming clear.

“I’ll be a good servant,” Sain sobbed, the words so clear through his cries that I knew what his intentions were. I knew what he was trying to do. More than that, I knew what I had to do.

Sain’s twisted game weaved around me as I stepped toward him, kicking the point of my heel into his ribs with such force that I was confident I heard something crack.

His pain screamed against the rock and ricocheted back to me even louder than before.

“I’ll be good. Trust me. Trust me.”

“Pick him up,” I ordered my father’s guard who still cowered behind me like the mongrel he was. “I am certain my father is expecting us.”

Damek nodded before he walked over to the old man, his magic surging powerfully as Sain jumped and screamed in pain, his body writhing with whatever the sadistic man was doing to him.

Unexpectedly, my heart jerked, an unfamiliar knot in my stomach springing to life at the sound of his pain, a remorse I never thought I would feel digging into me.

I tried to ignore it, but with each scream, it strengthened until I was sure I would kill Damek and run if I had to endure another moment of his games.

“Damek, don’t play with the food,” I spat, my voice shaking uncontrollably at what I had done, at the emotion that had taken over me.

I tried to hide the shake, tried to hide the emotion, but Damek heard, anyway, his eyes a thin line as he turned to face me, the lapse in judgment unmissed.

“I’m not the only one who’s playing with him, it seems.” Eyes narrowing in warning, he stood before me, even though, this time, he did not recoil.

The twist in my stomach intensified.

“I don’t like having to constantly remind you of your role with me, Damek,” I hissed, my voice a hard line as I pushed the emotion away, spitting his name out like acid. “You do what I say. You listen to what I ask.”

“No offense, my lady”—his words were as hard as my own, his eyes digging into me as he took a step closer—”but I am your father’s guard, not yours.”

Damek’s smile was wide and greasy as he moved away, Sain dragged behind him on a tow of magic. His voice was loud as he howled in what I assumed was genuine pain. That was, until he looked up at me, his eyes wide and strong even as he cried.

Tension bound me as my magic stretched to him, as his eyes locked me in place, the words he had said before echoing through me with the force of a drum. “Trust me!”

Sain’s sobs returned as we turned the corner, his body joining the panic again as we moved through the wide hall that led to my father’s quarters. The hall was as destroyed and disheveled as it had been for the last few months. Ilyan’s former belongings were thrown about, piled in ripped and broken heaps of rubbish, smears of blood and who knew what else splattered over them. It was all foreshadowing what I was really walking into.

As I entered my father’s quarters, the destruction from before was gone. The sterile space was even more frightening after the hall we had left, because here, everything was in its place, everything the way he liked it—from the perfectly made bed to the tables covered with trinkets collected from his kills to the little girl who cried in a pool of blood.

My heart seized at the image, this one unfamiliar for the perfection he always demanded.

The child looked up at me as we entered, her eyes wide and full of confusion and betrayal, her life meaning little more than the rags she wore. The shards of fabric were drenched in the bright color I was convinced was her own.

The reality of what I had walked into became frighteningly clear.

Sain’s sobs silenced as the tense weight of fear moved over both of us, Damek continuing to drag him over the floor behind him, as if he had forgotten he was there.

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