Chapter 410: The Disposable Pawn

Zephan;By the time the sun begins shifting lower across the sky, even I am tired.

It’s afternoon, and we’ve barely eaten proper meals or taken rests.

The maids brought food, but he was so eager not to waste anytime he barely ate. I had to force him to eat something, and I’m sure he’s burned through all that by now.

Still... he doesn’t relent.

Any longer, and I’d have to order him to stop for the day. We’ve spent hours out here.

Elián stands opposite me, panting as he awaits my next order.

Sweat has dampened his hair, his breathing is uneven, and his hands are trembling slightly from overuse.

"Again." He breathes, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Elián."

"Again." He cuts me off, and I scoff at the stubborn little viper.

"You can barely stand," I note, and he waved a hand dismissively.

"Again. Just show me one more time." He replies, and I stare at him.

At his stubborn, exhausted, and determined face.

Then I sigh.

"Fine."

I raise my blade and eye him.

"One last time."

His grip tightens on his practice blade, too.

I move first. Making sure to be slow and predictable to give him plenty of time to react.

It’s the same opening I’ve shown him all day. The same movement he’s failed to counter dozens of times.

Before I’m done, Elián shifts. His foot slides, and his body turns.

Not perfectly, but correctly.

Then his blade moves, and—

Tap.

His wooden sword hits mine. Redirecting it away from him.

Silence follows. We both freeze.

Elián blinks at me, and I blink at him, stunned.

Then he looks down at his blade, and back at me.

"...Did I do it?" He asks with anticipation, and a laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

"Yes." I laugh, and his eyes widen.

"Really!?"

"Really," I confirm, and for the first time all day, a genuine smile appears on his face. Not forced, but real.

Triumphant and adorable.

The sight of it makes my chest ache, because I realise how long it’s been since I’ve seen one of those on his face.

Finally, he sighs in surrender as he starts lowering himself to the ground.

I don’t ask questions. I just lower myself onto the grass beside him, too.

We remain silent. Letting the sound of our pants ease into the gentle afternoon, while staring at the clouds.

Finally, I glance at him. Because I haven’t had the chance to talk to him. I mean... really talk to him.

"How’s my niece?" I question, and I watch, and his expression softens—melting like snow on Nagarian sand.

"My daughter is doing fine." He replies, and I smile.

Daughter.

The word still feels strange because I don’t know how he’s so sure the baby is a girl. But then again, it feels so right.

Elián then looks at me, smiling faintly, before taking my hand, then carefully placing it against the curve of his stomach.

His skin feels warm under his robe. For several seconds, that’s all I feel...until a gentle tap graces my palm.

I freeze. Another tiny movement follows... Then another, and my eyes widen.

Elián laughs softly.

The sound is quieter than it used to be, but no less beautiful.

"She’s active today." He whispers, but I remain silent, and I don’t trust myself to speak right now.

This precious little being...she feels... real. Not a future... not an idea, or a possibility... but a person.

My niece. My family.

A small smile finally pulls at my lips as I look back up at Elian’s face.

"She’s strong," I confess, and Elián smiles proudly.

"She gets that from her fathers."

The statement earns a proud huff from me.

For a small moment... Things almost feel normal again.

Almost.

Then Elián shifts closer.

He rests lightly against my shoulder, with his head resting above my heart.

The movement makes me glance down, but I find that he’s staring ahead.

He’s thinking again. Always thinking lately.

Finally, he speaks...So quietly, I almost miss it.

"I won’t let anything happen to you."

My entire body goes still as the word settles like wet paper against ceramic.

He won’t let anything happen to me??

I’m his Alpha. His protector...His mate.

Even though he’s a Premodial, he has no idea how to use or control his powers. I’m supposed to be the one making promises like that.

Not the omega leaning against my chest. Not the mate carrying my niece.

...Not him.

Slowly, I look down at him again. But he isn’t smiling. He isn’t joking, or being... dramatic.

He’s serious. Completely serious.

Suddenly, I remember every strange thing he’s done lately.

The training, the endless studying and questions. The silence, the determination...The way he keeps looking at everyone like he’s memorising them.

Like he’s preparing for something.

A cold wave washes over my chest. Because it finally dawns on me.

Elián is preparing for something. Something dangerous.

And whatever it is... He intends to face it alone.

The realisation terrifies me. I know that look in his eyes. I’ve seen it before.

On soldiers marching toward impossible battles... On kings making sacrifices, on people who have already made difficult decisions they won’t take back.

And right now... the young man resting against my chest looks exactly like one of them.

Determined to do something... that might destroy him.

********

Bram;

They’re trying to kill me. That’s the only conclusion that fucking makes sense at this point!

Because what the actual fucking hell!?

It’s been days. Freaking days since they last sent anyone down here!

There’s no food, no water, NOTHING!

I know they hate me. The feeling is mutual, but do they actually want to kill me?

Starve me to death?

There’s no way they could have just forgotten me down here.

Do they think prisoners survive on air!?

My stomach twists painfully once more, and I grit my teeth as I bite through the pain.

I refuse to let them win.

I refuse to let Rhydian win. Or Igma, Or Liandria...any of them.

By the time they come back here, they won’t find me hunched over, whimpering for food. I’ll once again hold my head up high and show them that they are not enough to break me.

They’ll never be enough to do that!

The entire family is filled with lunatics. How hard is it to feed someone?

Honestly. At this point, even dogs are treated better.

The thought immediately spoils my mood further. Because I know exactly who would enjoy hearing that comparison.

Calisí.

That insane witch.

I knew she was a madwoman from the moment I met her.

The moment she put that collar around my neck... and made me crawl. The moment she treated me like some obedient little pet.

I realised in that moment that she did not respect me.

But if she thought that...that rubbish was going to break me... She thought wrong. So wrong.

A bitter laugh escapes me as fresh thoughts take up my mind.

It’s funny.

I betrayed everyone I’ve ever known. I have thrown friends and family under buses. I have fought, bitten, and clawed my way to the top. I’m not going to let it all fall to waste now?

In this abandoned, dilapidated cell. Hell no!

A sound suddenly breaks through my thoughts, echoing through the dungeon.

Footsteps.

My head immediately snaps up, and relief washes over me in ways I will never admit out loud.

Someone’s coming.

Finally! It’s about damn time.

I immediately bury my joy and straighten my back. Arranging my face into annoyance instead.

Because I refuse to look desperate. Even if I am, they have no reason to know.

"You’ve finally remembered I’m down here," I call into the darkness.

"It’s about time!" I add, but whoever it is, doesn’t hasten their steps.

I listen to the infuriatingly slow, steady steps, and I roll my eyes. Haven’t they made me wait long enough!?

"Honestly, this kingdom is unbelievably irresponsible." I spit, and still I get no answer. I can’t even get a scent off this person.

"Do prisoners normally starve to death here?" I add, but I’m met by my echo and the insulting silence.

I keep my gaze narrowed as I look through the bars, into the never-easing dark.

"If this is your attempt to break me, you should know that you all have failed woefully. I’m tougher than that!" I scream in pure rage this time, and finally, the footsteps stop.

Finally, a figure emerges from the shadows, and the moment I see him...

Every ounce of relief and arrogance I just gathered inside me dies.

Because the person standing there is not a guard.

It’s not Cassia, Rhydian. Liandria... or even Igma.

This person is a stranger. A young one.

Too young.

He looks like a rebellious teenager would... Tall, lanky, but with this aura that’s... imposing.

The first thing my mind keys onto is his smile. And the fact that there’s something deeply wrong with it.

The smile stretches too wide across his face. Not in the way a happy smile would look.

He looks...almost amused.

It may be my first time ever seeing him, but something about his eyes...that smile, and his aura tell me that there’s something wrong with him. Upstairs.

He looks like the kind of person who constantly laughs at jokes nobody else can hear.

A psycho.

I’ve studied people enough to recognise a crazy person’s eyes when I see them.

And these eyes...? A shiver crawls unpleasantly down my spine as I hold his gaze, and his smile grows even wider.

Who is this?

The stranger studies me quietly, and I stay completely still as I watch his every move.

His bright eyes move slowly over my face, my shoulders, my hands, and then back to my face.

Like he’s inspecting livestock.

"Well." He finally breaks the silence in a voice that is awfully and suddenly cheerful.

"You look awful." He adds with his voice echoing through the empty dungeon.

I blink at him, then scowl at the words.

"Thank you," I reply sarcastically, and his smile turns into a grin.

"You’re welcome." He beams, and in this very moment, staring at his face, strange, stupid face, I know that whoever he is, I already hate him.

He strolls closer to the cell without a care in the world, and I raise a brow.

There’s no fear in his eyes or movements. No caution or concern whatsoever.

Then again... why would he have any?

It’s not like I’m capable of doing anything from inside a cage.

I watch him carefully as he looks into the cell. At the chains holding me bound, the shameful bucket in the corner where I’ve been doing my business... and the animalistic, miserable state I’ve been kept in.

I notice how strange his clothes are. Yes, everyone in this fucked up world dresses weird and all, but his attire is a different kind of strange.

They are dark and travel-worn.

And from the little time I stayed with the witches and warlocks, I can see and feel the faint traces of magic rolling off him. It makes my stomach tighten.

The aura coming off him is warlock magic.

Wait. Is this young boy a warlock!?

A fresh wave of relief crashes into me as it all falls into place.

Of course.

Of fucking course!!!

He’s from the Covenstead!!! They finally sent someone!

I sit up straighter.

Trying not to appear too eager. Well... trying, and failing.

Because Light knows I’m desperate to get the hell out of here. I need to sleep in a good bed again. And have some food and water before I lose it.

"Took you long enough," I say flatly, and the young boy blinks. Then points at himself.

"Me?"

"Who else would I be talking to?" I snap, and he stares.

Then suddenly, he bursts into laughter.

Not a chuckle. Not a laugh, but a full-bodied fit of hysterics.

He doubles over, clutching his stomach like he just heard the joke of the century, and I stare at him in confusion.

What in the hell is wrong with him? What’s so funny?

The laughter continues until eventually he wipes tears from his eyes, and I lift a brow.

"Oh, that’s good." He breathes, and I narrow my eyes.

"What is?"

"You." He replies, and my jaw tightens.

The boy laughs again, and with every pitch of infuriating laughter that escapes him, I feel my anger grow.

"I haven’t even said anything yet, and you’re already entertaining me." He laughs, and I tilt my head as I stare at him.

What does he mean?

"Didn’t Avaren send you?" I ask, and hums.

"Technically." He replies, and I can finally let out a proper breath.

So, I was right! I knew it.

The Covenstead hadn’t abandoned me.

Why would they? After everything I’ve done for them. After everything I sacrificed.

I’m stuck in a woman’s fucking body for their sake. What bigger sacrifice is there than—

"Actually," the warlock interrupts my thoughts, and my attention returns to him.

"That’s not entirely true." He adds, and my stomach does a little flip.

"What?"

The warlock grins, and I swallow.

"Avaren didn’t send me. The elders did." He replies, and I stare at the boy who’s beginning to get on my every last nerve.

The warlock stares back, then he leans closer. Like he’s about to reveal some top-class secret.

I subconsciously lean in too, and his grin grows.

"They sent me to kill you."