“For when they come down,” he whispered, tapping on the metal. “At least you’ll look the part.” He smoothed a piece of my hair with a gentle hand and I held myself together as best as I could.
I couldn’t summon a voice to thank him with. Instead, I watched him turn the key to the cell door and walk away without a second glance, propping the tapestry up so I could see the corridor beyond. The semi-circular bars nearest me weren’t going to stop me if I decided to escape, however. It was built to keep in Skinwalkers, not people, and I could probably squeeze through them if it came to it. But I wouldn’t try it. I didn’t want to escape. Instead I sunk my head into my knees and I cried.
MUCH OF THE day passed without a respite from the yelling above me. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but I knew they wouldn’t reach a conclusion that day – maybe not even the next. Nobody upstairs was stupid enough to believe I was a Berserker spy, though the idea wouldn’t shift from their minds easily. They could have at least left me with a book to read or piece of charcoal to help pass the time.
By the time night had fallen I dozed lazily on the itchy straw. The smell and feel of it made my chest twinge. It had been a couple of months since I was last home, sleeping on the rough, straw mattresses, and I missed it. The only source of light came from an oil lamp flickering from the other side of the bars, highlighting the defined edges of the room. Something metallic squeaked, bringing me out of a light slumber and I was suddenly alert. My hands slipped easily from the shackles around my wrists. Only, it wasn’t the door that squeaked ahead of me. My eyes snapped to the grate at the bottom of the gradient as fingers curled around the bars. I drew myself against the far wall and waited while the grate was torn out of the floor with a tremendous CRASH.
A figure rose from the hole. Though his face was shrouded, his trousers were ragged and torn, his feet were bare, and a tatty cloak swished behind him when he turned to face me. The shirt he wore was once white, and the old bloodstains and dried dirt had no doubt changed the colour long ago. The man strode towards me, stopping short as he extended his hand to touch my locket. His hand was strong but scarred, the tough nails sat in sharpened points like claws upon his fingers. I recognised hands such as those and it made me cold.
Berserker.
If I called out to the others above, he could tear my throat out, though Stephan probably wanted me alive. I stared at his sharp nails again as his laboured breathing washed my face with an acrid stench from beneath his mask. Occasional dark veins pulsed in his neck, and despite the hollows beneath his eyes and cheeks I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was handsome before his corruption.
The creature pulled back his shroud, revealing his face, and my hands shot to my mouth as I stifled a cry. I didn’t know whether to be happy or horrified to find Roan standing in front of me with eyes dark as night.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“ROAN?” I WHISPERED. “Is it really you?” He merely stared unwaveringly at me before I forgot what he was and threw my arms around him. “You’re alive. You’re alive, I can’t believe it.”
His arms hung at his sides, offering me no sign of recognition. I let my hands drop and stepped away from him, trying to force myself to let the reality of it sink in.
“Please. Please, Roan. Please, tell me they were wrong,” I begged. Despite my hopes I knew the answer. The crimson-flecked eyes sat intrusively in my brother’s skull and I wanted to scratch them out. I missed the dirty green of them. “Why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t Stephan choose somebody else to be his pawn?”
The sound of Stephan’s name brought him out of his cool, stiff position. He twitched and drooled, crying in frustration as he lifted his hands up to his head and clawed at the skin. His teeth clacked together like he was biting something unseen and he cried out.
“Stephan,” he chattered. “Stephan-”
“Keep your voice down,” I shushed him.
“M–monster. Monster. Collect her. Bring her here.” His sentences were nonsensical. “Bring her-”
His hands clasped my wrist roughly, pulling me toward the grate but I caught. The manacles around my ankles were still fastened tightly and he snarled at the hindrance. He pushed me to the ground hard and pulled at the cuffs on my feet, scraping the skin of my ankles as he yanked them free.
“Roan, stop!” I yelled, hoping they would hear me.
He grabbed at me again and I slapped his hand away. Outraged, he caught me in the chest and sent me into the wall. I wheezed and hit the floor. Roan walked toward me and grasped my raw ankle, dragging me toward the grate with ease. I shook off the daze and kicked at the back of his knees with my free leg. He stumbled and I sprang to my feet, bounding to the bars. I tried to squeeze through but didn’t have the time as he pulled himself to his feet. I grabbed a piece of rubble and banged it against the bars, screaming out.
“Somebody-”
My plea was cut off as he wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed. Something crashed upstairs. I gasped for breath, but managed to speak in broken sentences.
I let my hand fall to Roan’s cheek like last time. Something tingled beneath my fingers at the feel of his bare skin. “If you’re in there, just know that I love you with all of my heart.” He stared at me with a blank hatred I couldn’t bear to look at, and I clutched the rubble in my hand before driving it into his skull until he loosened his grip. “But I won’t fail this time,” I growled, smashing the rock into his elbow.
He howled and stumbled away, clutching his arm. I took my chance and tried my luck with the bars one last time. Footsteps stomped above me and a door crashed as it was thrown open. I struggled, trying to press myself through with everything I had. I squeezed until I couldn’t breathe and my top half was free on the other side.
“Ava!” Ric called. I saw them sprinting down the hallway.
“Come on.” The blood rushed to my head as I struggled to free the last part of me. Roan was back on his feet and launched himself at me; the red of his eyes had bled outward in a terrifying display.
I slipped through, but Roan managed to wrap a hand around my leg and drag me partly back. A screamed wrenched its way out of my throat as my leg tore out from under me. My shoulder cracked against the stone floor and I spun around, making one last attempt to free myself from his grasp as his nails sliced into the soft flesh of my leg. I kicked out at him and flinched as my heel connected with his nose. He howled and jumped backward while I rolled clear of his reach.
I wheezed and turned to him. “Please tell me you’re still in there,” I moaned.