From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112

Elara

I confuse reality with my delusions. For a while I feel a body against mine and forget that it’s Cassian until I manage to come out of unconsciousness and see him there, by my side, watching over my sleep. Words get stuck in my throat and want to come out, but it’s impossible. My lips are sealed, and not in a metaphorical way—but a painful and very literal one. The warmth of his kiss on my forehead faded a while ago, and in its place remains only the embrace of cold that keeps me trembling without end. My whole body aches.

My vision is not clear, there’s a haze that prevents me from seeing what’s in front of me. I suppose my body is fighting against the magic, and my energy dwindles with every second I spend here. I believe at some point they entered my cell and connected an IV to my arm to feed me, though i does little if at the same time they’re extracting bags of blood from my other arm.

There seems to be a woman in front of me—is she really there, or is it just a dream! My eyelids are heavy, and it takes a great effort to open them as try to focus my vision. Whoever she is, she notices my difficulties and moves closer, becoming more visible. Any doubts I might have had vanish when a woman with hair red as flames and a slender, curvaceous figure stands in front of me. She crouches until her eyes are level with mine–they are the most intense green I have ever seen, framed by thick lashes. Her hand, with pale, delicate fingers, brushes the part of my cheek left exposed by the muzzle.

“My poor girl. Her touch is as soft ás velvet. “I suppose your stubbornness is something you inherited from me. You shouldn’t have fought so hard against the inevitable. Look where it’s gotten you”

pull away, moving my battered body toward the wall and frown at her words. She stretches the corners of her red–painted mouth into a faint smile, but she doesn’t give up trying to maintain some point of connection between us. She takes my hand between hers and caresses it with her thumbs. Emotions that can only be hallucinations of someone as exhausted as I am cross her face. That affection on her face can’t be real.

“It’s time you learned the whole truth, that you know where you come from.” She studies my face. “I know you were raised in a religion that hides me–they prefer to act as if I never existed, they prefer to ignore me rather than admit they are monstrous and go against everything they preach” She tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I know you know things about me. I’ve watched you all this time. You already know how I made my first children, and though they were close, they’re not perfect. They have weaknesses their enemies discovered long ago and used to destroy the females capable of bearing offspring I couldn’t watch my children perish and vanish, so I thought of creating you. Deep down, you’re a miracle that shouldn’t have happened. I’ve never been able to give birth until you. You’re not tears or anything else you are the fruit of my union with your father, Ataroth,”

My frown deepens, and I try in vain to free myself from her grasp.

“You carry his gifts and qualities that make you stronger than a Pure–that was his gift–but you also share a good part of the nature of those like Cassian. You are capable of helping the bloodline survive, perhaps even strengthen it. I shake my head repeatedly. I feel the information drowning me. I don’t think I’ve truly thought about everything that’s happened until this moment–and the sensation is suffocating. “Yes. Yes, Elara! It’s time you accept it! You were never human. Everything until now was an illusion, one we had to maintain until you were in the right hands. You had to remain hidden among humans, so my enemics–and those of my children–wouldn’t notice until it was time for you to mature. Imagine.” She cradles my cheek, and the heat of the burning muuzzle seems not to affect her in the slightest. “You and Cassian are my finest creations. He has unmatched gifts that thousands dream of, and you.. you are the greatest terror they could ever imagine. You have the ability to devour their soul, to annihilate existence—even in the afterlife. Your blood is exceptionally special. And there are many things even I don’t know. No one knows the magnitude of what you might become, but I’m willing to find out. You just have to wake up, Elara. You have to break the last threads that bind you to this illusion of humanity”

I want to scream and I can’t. In my head I repeat over and over that I want them to leave me alone, that I am nothing of what they y claim I am–but deep down I know all of this is true, and I think that’s what’s truly exhausting. The certainty that a normal life, that freedom, was never a real option. And then there’s my family, who really aren’t my family at all. Just thinking about it makes my soul burn. My mind can’t process that everything has been a lie, and worse yet, doubts consume me. Did they really love me, or did they just see me as the perfect chance in save their real children from a fatal fate?

I scold myself for thinking that way about them.

In the distance, the sound of someone descending the stairs and dragging their feet can be heard.”

“Atarothe will want to meet you someday, dear,” the woman says hastily. “But for that, you must wake up. If not, I’m afraid you’ll die soon” Something resembling red–hot shackles begins to materialize around her wrists. “Where I am, I can’t help you–and he’s been gone for a while. You’re alone. Elara. You only have yourself. Stay close to Cassian. He is your destiny.”

And as quickly as the appeared, she disappears, leaving behind wisps of smoke that vanish in a matter of seconds. I’m granted no rest. I’ve just been subjected to an avalanche of information when the Glack–haired, blind–eyed man appears in front of my cell. He pulls out a ring of keys and selects one to open my cell door. He enters completely confidently, kneels beside me, and with a delicacy no one would associate with someone like hun rehnoves the IV from my arm. I can’t help but stare at him and wonder if I was wrong to say he’s blund–he doesn’t seem blind at all, moves with ani rase uncharacteristic of someone with that disablality.

“Stop looking at me.“1 flinch at the sound of his voice and wonder how he could know what I was doing. “Get up, walk, and don’t you dare try anything stupad. Blindness doesn’t make me incapable of breaking your neck.”

If I could open my mouth, I’d tell him that I don’t belarve for a second that he has the authority to end my late–not if I’m as valuable as everyone seems to think. I can’t speak, so I remain silent and obey. Before we leave the cell, he mukes sure to place two thick shackles on my wrists, and once

12.25 PM ct c

Chapter 112

that’s done, he gives my shoulder a light push to get me walking-

We walk the same corridor of cells, from which sunken eyes look back at me. We climb the dusty stairs and cross the desolate foyer, where parts of the ceiling are missing and windows are broken. As we go deeper into the place, it appears less abandoned and crumbling. The hallways are covered in rugs and some sculptures try to breathe life into the space. Men are posted every few meters, but their human appearance no longer fools me—I know what hides beneath their skin: great beasts with fangs and claws that wouldn’t hesitate to tear my throat out

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