Page 126 of Only Flames Remain

I felt truly alone.

One thing remained secret from the Ashbourne’s still. They had no idea I was Sorin’s fated, or they surely never would have risked capturing me. Who knew what hellfire their actions would rain down upon them for this.

“Hello!” I called, standing from the cot and making my way toward the iron bars of the cell.

I gripped them tightly. I had expected to feel their poison leeching through my flesh the moment I touched them, but I felt nothing.

I truly wasn’t fae, then. That begged the question of where in the seven hells my magic came from.

“Is anyone there?” I called again, trying my best to peer around the bars into the darkened corridor beyond.

The only glimpse I was able to manage was of torches flickering along the walls, and cell upon cell stacked left to right.

Nobody answered me.

I sauntered back toward the cot and plopped back down onto it in defeat. No sooner had I pulled my legs up beneath me did I hear a rickety door opening at the end of the corridor. My instincts told me to stay put, and I thanked the nine gods that they had, as Queen Dyata ambled into view.

I recoiled from her, pressing myself against the back wall of the cell to put as much distance between us as possible.

“We meet again,” she said, clasping her hands before her.

Her fingers were adorned with diamonds and jewels far exceeding what one might call ostentatious. Her pale, silk gown was adorned with an opal tulle skirt that hung from a pearlescent bodice. A golden crown sat atop her head. More diamonds dripped from her pointed ears, catching the light as she turned toward me.

“All too soon,” I sneered.

My dress was torn and tattered, covered in soot and saltwater from the ship. The garment had been marred beyond repair. My black hair fell in a messy braid down my back, my cheeks stained with tears. I couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at the dichotomy between the two of us, separated on opposite sides of the iron bars.

“We have much to discuss,” she said.

I shook my head. “I don’t much feel like talking.”

Queen Dyata chided me. “Oh, child. If only you had a choice.”

“Don’t I?” I challenged. “You need me.”

She inclined her head, eyes narrowing. Anger swirled in her gaze as a growl erupted from her throat. For a moment, she appeared more animal than human.

“Don’t for one second think you aren’t replaceable. Just because I have agreed to let you marry Kallias, it does not make you invincible. I could easily allow him to marry Astryn Hunt, as originally planned.”

“Then why don’t you?” I asked, standing from the cot, spurred on by my anger. “Let him marry her. Perhaps she is a better fit for him after all.”

She raised her brow at this, taking a step forward. “Is that so? You are so eager to give him up? You sailed across the sea to assassinate a dragon for him. A mission with great risk and little chance of survival.” I scoffed at that as she continued. “The prince still lives, so you failed at that. I assume you failed at retrieving the relic as well? I didn’t see it with Kallias. There have been no reports of its sighting.”

I shook my head. “I couldn’t find it.”

Queen Dyata gave an unsurprised grunt. “Useless little human.”

A wicked smile spread across my lips as I held her gaze. “But I’m not human at all, am I?”

She didn’t appear all too pleased to be reminded of that.

“What do you need the relic for, anyway? What sentimental value does it hold for you? Or is it something else entirely?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she crooned, though the words lacked their usual venom.

I wanted to sail through these iron bars and wrap my bare hands around her throat. But I held my composure before her, shoulders back and jaw set. The picture of propriety despite the raging storm inside.

“It’s more important than that, isn’t it? It’s something you need in the war to come. Something that will give you an advantage…” I mused.