From Slave To Queen (Athena and Michael) novel Chapter 130

Chapter 130

1 hesitate a few seconds before lifting my gaze and facing my greatest nightmare. Yet, my need to save her is much greater. I lock eyes on what lies before me—on the Elara 1 remember so well–leaning over the table with her hands behind her back and her face pressed against the surface, Some shards have embedded in her cheeks. Behind her, a faceless man lifts the skirt of her dress.

“You couldn’t do anything for her, Cassian.” Rhory’s voice whispers.

I try to find him, but I’m alone, facing a scene that could be a nightmare and yet is a memory that has haunted me for centuries.

“Son, leave!”

Elara’s face changes, revealing traces of my mother’s features. Slowly, they blend together, confusing me. It becomes harder and harder to distinguish what is part of my memory and what isn’t. I bring my hands to my head, shaking it from side to side to drive away the images–and if happens. The feminine screams are replaced by the groans of combat, and the castle’s smell by the scent of the forest, mingled with blood and sweat. Llook around for the shapeshifter, more than ready to make him pay and break his mind. I fail. He seems to have vanished as quickly as the memory he brought to the surface.

We retrace our steps and return inside to Drystan, who looks much more exhausted than when I left. A new tremor shakes the ground–not from the countless enemy footsteps this time, but from something much bigger. The chandelier sways back and forth, making its crystals tinkle. I look ip and then at my friend, communicating without words. That was a damn explosion, and something tell me I know exactly where it happened.

“Wait here

“No way you’re going down there alone”

He completely ignores what I’ve said and runs with me, assigning responsibility to one of the better–trained guards. I know the battle outside is won now I worry about what the hell is happening in the dungeons. I descend the stairs recklessly, blinking through the clouds of dust. My boot hits something soft. I look down and see what appears to be a severed arm. Drystan and I exchange glances before moving on. My ears ring as we continue forward. Rage blinds me when I see the cell doors hanging loose and chunks of stone fallen, I approach and burn with fury when I see the massive hole in the wall. A tunnel opens outside the castle, loose dirt still falling from it. Of course, Ragna is gone–but it’s not too late to catch her.

Without thinking, I run into the tunnel, followed by my right hand. It’s irresponsible of us to go alone, without reinforcements, with no one knowing where we’re headed. We run at full spend. I try to sharpen my hearing as much as I can, but I don’t hear her footsteps. She can’t be far- there hasn’t been much time since the explosion. I catch a scent I’ve come to recognize during her weeks of captivity. I stop and sniff the air more carefully. It’s strong here.

“Do you smell it?” I ask.

“She can’t be far.”

But minutes pass, and we find nothing Ragna’s scent grows weaker, and when we backtrack, we smell it strongly in the same spot–but there’s no one there. We frantically examine every inch of the tunnel. We reach the exk, No one. Not even footprints on the ground, which makes everything stranger and more complicated

Rage takes over. Involuntarily. I make the ground tremble beneath our feet Drystan pats my shoulder in an attempt to calm me.

“We caught her once, we’ll do it again.”

I grind my teeth.

“Her capture cost us dearly. I won’t pay such a high p

price again.”

“You won’t.” He grips my shoulder tighter. “Things will get better, I’m sure. We’ll face this, and you’ll come out stronger.”

I take a deep breath, blink to disperse the rage, and then face my friend, trying to flash a cocky smile.

“Are you saying I’m not strong enough?

Drystan bursts out laughing

“That’s what you got from my

y motivational speech?” He shakes his head, amused. “You won’t be if you keep starving yourself and never sleeping. If you want to be strong for her, you need to change your attitude.”

I don’t know how to explain to him that I don’t want to feed on anyone but her. I’ve become an addict. Everyone else’s blood tastes like copper They don’t have that wild note roaring in their veins. I can’t sleep either, because in my dreams, I see her. Sometimes she’s in her bed, just like in real life, other times she’s on the edge of a cliff, jumping again and again imo the roaring waves; and in my worst nightmares, she’s just as | remember her–her hair shines, her smile is shy, but she’s not with me. She’s in someone else’s arms, offering him her blood and her smiles. I’m selfish because I want her with me. I want her to look at me and sinile because she wants to–because I make her happy. I want her to give me her blood because she enjoys the ecstasy of feeding and being fed as much as I do. I want to give her my blood in return. I want her to be mine, body and soul Maybe I want to belong in someone tou–I don’t know

Chapter 130

“Come on, let’s go back. There’s nothing more we can do here?”

We return to the castle. I assess the situation: the dungeons are mostly deuroyed, the gardens have suffered some damage, the main stairs show partial collapse–but otherwise, everything is fine. Nothing a few days of repairs and cleanup can’t fix. Bloodstain removal is a specialty here. I order Mavka–miraculously still alive after the disaster–moved to one of the guest rooms now that the dungeons are destroyed.

Evanora is at the foot of the stairs leading to the upper floor, watching the aftermath of the massacre from the safety of the indoors. The wind whips her face, and her eyes seem lost in nothingness.

“We need to talk I say curtly.

She blinks out of her trance, and both she and Drystan look at me incredulously, aware of my opinion of the banshee.

-What do we need to talk about?” she asks.

“Is it possible Naja is helping the shapeshifters?”

She frowns.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

I take a step closer to her, and from the corner of my eye I see Drysian’s movement. He tries to approach the banshee, thinking there’s a chance I might hurt her. Despite the differences I may have with her, I wouldn’t do anything to Evanora if it meant hurting my friend. I’m a monster–but even mansters need at least one person who sees them as more than something despicable. That person is Drystan to me.

“It’s not enough for me that you don’t believe it’s possible. I want you to be completely sure.”

“Why?”

He completely ignores Drysian’s protective closeness.

“They got past the protective spells that surround the grounds.

Also, we didn’t feel or hear their presence until they were practically on top of us. That’s not possible, not without magical help.

“It wasn’t Naja,” she states “I’m sure

“Are you?”

She bites her lower lip, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. For a moment, she avoids our gaze and stares off into nowhere, deep in thought.

“Just like I have my own reasons to be wary of you,” she says, at which I raise an eyebrow in slight surprise. The past few weeks made it clear that her wariness doesn’t include Drystan. I’m sure they’ve grown closer. “Naja has something against them. She doesn’t like them. I’m sure she didn’t lend them her magic.

“And what if it was Eleazar who g

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