Chapter Fifty-Two

255 3 0
                                    

Velaria

Velaria had been heavily drugged with faebane, she realized as she tried to open her eyes and her vision had been blurred. The last thing she remembered was being woken up in her room, the sun already streaming in, and a rag that smelt of the metallic faebane was shoved over her nose and mouth.

She tried to move, tried to get a better perspective, but she couldn't move. She was...hanging from something.

Chains clanked together above her as she tried, and struggled, to move, the ringing sound echoing.

Velaria looked up and cursed. She had been chained heavily to the wall, her chains anchored into the wall high above.

"Lovely to see that you're finally awake, dear Velaria," a smooth voice said. "I may have instructed them to give you too much faebane, but it did the trick."

Velaria's face twisted into a growl as Tamlin stepped forward, a ball of light in his hand.

Tamlin smirked, raising his hand and letting the light spread out. It soon filled the entire room, and Velaria gasped as she saw exactly what, and who, surrounded her.

She gagged, taking in the smell and sight of rotten flesh. Two fae were chained to the floor, their hair and skin so bloodied she couldn't tell exactly which court they were from. The one on the right had wings, feathered wings of the Seraphim, that were broken in all of the wrong angles and feathers missing all around. The one on the left managed to lift his head up slightly, the simple motion seemingly making him struggle. He stared at Velaria, his eyes devoid of all feeling and emotion, leaving only a void of despair.

They were both bloodied and bruised, some wounds dressed and some completely covered in caked blood. Some of the wounds were fresh, but others were old, already scarring. The Seraphim had large scars in the shape of x's over his wings, blood soaked over his once gorgeous feathers.

"What are you doing to them?" Velaria snarled at the High Lord of Spring, trying to stagger towards him but failing.

Tamlin raised an eyebrow. "I'm experimenting."

"Experimenting how?" Velaria growled. "You're torturing them."

Tamlin tapped a long finger to his chin, the stubble that had been there now completely gone. "I'm taking their powers, Velaria," he said simply, as if it was just an ordinary activity. "You didn't think that I'd start with you and the High Lords, now did you?"

"You took lesser fae and are taking their powers for practice," Velaria said slowly, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

Tamlin grinned, his fangs exposed. "Precisely," he said. "And now...now, you get to watch."

Velaria couldn't do anything as he stepped back and opened his arms wide, winking at Velaria once before power shot out of him like a pair of floodgates opened.

Velaria's mouth dropped open, her gut twisting. She had never seen the true lengths of his power, had never even felt the power in the way she was experiencing it now.

Its very existence utterly nauseated her, the scent of it flooding all of her senses and overtaking her. It was evil, pure evil, that radiated out of Tamlin.

The black, coiling power snaked across the floor and through the air, tearing its way across the floor like a savage animal on the prowl. It reached the fae and stabbed into them, spearheading into their flesh.

The Seraphim cried out, the power striking his shoulders and straight through his wings. The fae next to him struggled to move closer to him for comfort, but the power hit him, too, striking his heart, and he slumped to the floor.

A Court of Dreams and PromiseWhere stories live. Discover now