Wicked is the Curse.

29| Glimpse

Chapter 29| Glimpse

Aire faced the Bloodbound in the dark.

She had him here, unable to escape her and she had the freedom to question him. The sliver of time was narrow, but she would make it work. She had to. Either the guard would return or worse, Laochra would; bringing news that the Pretender had decided she was too much of a danger and needed to be ... removed.

"Come and face me Bloodbound."

There was a low breath from his cell, a rumble of amusement. Aire squinted into the dark as the chains clanked around stone. The cells were oppressive in their darkness with only the flickering torchlight outside her cell battling away the panic she felt creeping inside of her.

The leg exposed by the light, covered only by shorn and bloodied trousers, retreated. Even in the dark, she could sense his movement. She could almost make out that long, lean shape stretching up, up.

"What trouble have you gotten yourself into now, sweet one?" He stepped into the bubble of light, "To be punished so severely."

For a moment, she was dumbfounded. He looked worse now than he had in that tiny cell at the bonfire celebrations. Fresh wounds darkened his face and his clothes were wet with weeping wounds. She took her time examining him and he stared down at her, silent and still.

"They're beating you."

Almost casually, he replied, "An astute observation. The fake queen is a curious woman. She has relished the chance to experiment with one of the Emperor's toys."

She didn't like the Bloodbound, not at all; but, she couldn't help feeling that this made the people of Valherin no worse than the Empire itself. Which was rich coming from her, as she had spent the better part of a decade committing crimes and debasing herself in the name of Junhyn. "That is not right."

"I had you shackled and tormented," He reminded her. "Do not waste pity on a creature like me."

"You had us shackled, yes. Tormented by fear, yes. But you protected us from the worst of the soldiers' ire."

"A small mercy. Do not look for grace where it exists only in a thimble." He caught her glancing towards his fresh wounds once more. His gaze was softening, a momentary lapse in his rigid control. "Do not waste your time worrying about my condition here. The fake queen's imagination cannot stretch as far as those who train my kind. Her punishments are loving in comparison."

She regarded him, sickened but thoughtful. If this was loving, she couldn't imagine what his training had been like. She didn't want to imagine it either. There was enough suffering to be seen without having to think about it too. "I came here for you."

"I am honored," that softness was gone, like a candle snuffed out.

She risked a step closer to the bars that separated them. "You are the only person here in Valherin who knows that she is a fake queen."

"As do you." A sigh rattled his chest. It sounded like a rib was cracked, if not broken. Aire eyed the brace around his neck, the shackles at his wrist. The metal bit into his skin and the wounds they left seemed to leak, putrid and wrong. She was drawn closer, curious by his shackles. "They aren't using normal metal to bind you?"

His eyes gleamed. "Observant."

Though it smelled of damp and dark, there was another scent under it. One she was all too familiar with. It burned his skin but made her mouth water, a hungry ache spreading to her jaw. It had been weeks since she had some. Desire curled inside of her, her tongue becoming parched. The feeling tugged her forward.