When The Last Ember Falls

Thirty-Four

Eris:

"It's time to wake up brother," Bronwynn said as his grating voice echoed against the ceiling. Jewels clanked together, giving me clue enough we were still in the throne room.

With my head hanging forward, I tried to open my eyelids but they felt too heavy. With each try, my vision blurred more and more. Only one chandelier buzzed with faelights, the one directly above me, barely giving off enough light for the rest of the room.

"Don't worry, you're just feeling the effects of faebane and my right hook."

I squinted at my hands, vibrant blue chains wrapped around my wrists and up my arms. I tuned into the soft sizzle noise they made against my flesh. Bronwynn or one of his followers had torn my tunic apart, most likely to increase my suffering.

The faebane restraints wrapped several times around my torso, then attached to the stone floor. I tried to stand but the chains restricted me. I was positioned with my arms forced open, my knees crushing into the ground—positioned in defeat.

Bronwynn stepped forward, crouching beside me. "I've waited for this moment, Eris. I wished it was father here and not you. Truly. Unfortunately, the Gryphon killed him and you killed our brothers. So, now that leaves only you to serve as retribution."

I took a wet breath in; the taste of iron and ash coated my tongue as my blood continued to drain down the back of my throat. Shutting my eyes in hopes I would see better when I opened them again, "what do you want?" I seethed. My vision barely improved as I opened my eyes to scrutinize the bastard.

He stood up, taking a gander around, "the throne, the resources. The perfect spot to raid both Prythian and the human realm."

"You were never good with strategic planning."

Bronwynn's humorless laugh bounced through the spacious room. "Patience is a strategy. I have you where I want you, brother." He snapped his fingers, every chandelier illuminating. "Exactly, where I want you," Bronwynn muttered, snapping his fingers once again.

Nesta and my mother appeared on either side of him, both wrapped in faebane, both gagged so they could not speak.

I charged forward, nearly falling on my back. "Release them," I ordered, feeling the coils of fury circle in my chest. A roar vibrating through my entire body, "release them!"

"There's no fun in letting go of prisoners. The King of Hybern told me that when I was captured by his guards. The problem is," he looked in the distance, remembering his time in captivity. "I enjoy pain. I love it, as you saw during our challenge. So much so, he asked me to join him. To take my gift and bring an end to Prythian with him."

I glanced to my mother, her russet-eyes cold and lifeless. I knew she felt broken by Bronwynn's words. That she could not take back the damage that was done.

Trying to control my rage, I then looked to Nesta. Amber tears were building in her eyes, her body still as she fought off the deathly chill of faebane. I'm sure it only reminded her of the past. Every gut-wrenching thing she experienced in this court.

None of this would have happened if I hadn't, if I hadn't taken her that day in the woods.

But she can still save us.

Forcing my voice to be even and low, "break the chains, Nesta."

She hopelessly stared at me, a fiery droplet falling to the floor.

I couldn't understand why she wouldn't. Why she hadn't already done so. Nesta had broken through faebane before; she was capable of wiping out entire armies. "Break them—"