Page 63 of Throne of Ice and Blood
Drawing up short, I come to a halt on the pale ice floor and just stare at their empty cages. It’s the middle of the night. What in Mabona’s name could the Icehearts be subjecting them to now?
“Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”
I snap my gaze towards the sound of the voice.
Pain pulses through my heart when I find Lavendera sitting in the middle of her cage, rocking back and forth and gripping her hair with both hands.
“Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop,” she whispers over and over again.
I hurry over to her cage and drop down to my knees in front of it. “Lavendera.”
She doesn’t look up. I try to reach through the bars, but she’s sitting too far away for me to touch her. Her fingers are squeezing the flowing brown strands of her hair so hard that her knuckles have turned white, and she keeps rocking back and forth. Pain hits me straight in the chest again.
“Lavendera, please,” I whisper back. “I can help you. Just tell me what you’re feeling, and I can help take that emotion away.”
Her head jerks up and her gaze snaps to mine.
It’s so sudden that I jerk back in shock.
“No.” Her eyes are wide and panicked as she stares at me while letting her hands drop down from her hair. “Don’t mess with my head. Don’t you ever mess with my head. It’s already too crowded. Too crowded.” A sob suddenly rips from her throat, and tears line her eyes. “I’m so tired.” Another sob. “Oh Goddess, you have no idea justhowtired I am.”
I just stare back at her, horrified. Do the Icehearts even understand the kind of torture they’re putting her through just by locking her up like this?
“I promise,” I begin. “I won’t touch your emotions unless you want me to. But please…”
I trail off.
The tears are gone from Lavendera’s eyes. And so is everything else.
Sitting there in the middle of the cage, she just stares at the wall behind me with vacant eyes. As if she has completely disconnected from the world around her to escape the pain.
My heart squeezes hard as I watch her.
And that ruthlessness that has been growing inside me seeps deeper into my soul, intertwining with all the rage and pain already festering in there.
I will get Lavendera out of here. I will get them all out of here.
And I will burn this fucking castle to the ground.
Even if it means that I have to manipulate every single human in this city to do it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Silently cursing the fact that I’m wearing my infuriating iron collar, I try my best to flirt the way normal people do. Which I’m quickly coming to realize is something that I might actually be quite terrible at.
The dragon shifter in front of me furrows his brows and watches me with both confusion and suspicion evident on his face. I decide to press on anyway. Draven is currently in the room that this shifter is guarding, where he is reporting his progress and plans for capturing the Red Hand, and I need to take every opportunity I can to sneakily interrogate anyone who might know where the other entrance to the emergency escape tunnel is located.
Since I can only sneak out when Draven is away, which is always at night, I haven’t been able to search the mountainside for the tunnel. It’s pitch black out there. I would be more likely to break my ankles trying to climb across the stones than actually finding the entrance. And since I can’t go there when it’s daylight, because Draven keeps me glued to his side at all other times, I need to find someone else who can give me the information that I need. Which hopefully is this guy.
“You must be incredibly skilled if you have managed to get this job,” I say.
The guard before me shifts his weight, the slight move making his silver armor glint in the sunlight streaming in through the window, while he continues watching me with eyebrows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You’re guarding the Empress and Emperor’s personal meeting room. They wouldn’t give that position to someone who hasn’t proven himself.”
A hint of pride pushes out some of the confusion on his face, and he straightens his spine ever so slightly. “I suppose you’re right.” Then he seems to remember who he’s talking to, because the satisfied smile disappears and hostility takes its place as he narrows his eyes at me. “Though what would you know about skills and work ethics,fae.”
He spits out my race as if it tastes foul.
