Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II Hodges, Aaron (simple e reader TXT) 📖

Her words gave Lukys pause and he found himself looking away, eyes caught in the lantern light. He savoured the orange glow, even as its brightness caused stars to dance across his vision. Despite everything Sophia had told him, there was still one thing he did not understand.

What am I doing here, Sophia? he murmured, reaching out with his mind.

A sigh slipped from the Tangata’s lips but she did not answer. Lukys forced himself to look at her again and was surprised to find her watching him. He swallowed. The sight of those grey eyes still terrified him, caused something primal in him to cry out.

“Am I to be your slave?” he asked at last, unable to keep the despair from his voice.

No. Sophia rose abruptly. She walked to where the iron door still stood open and for a moment he thought she would depart. But she swung back, fists clenched, lips pursed tight together. She shook her head. This isn’t how it is meant to go.

“And how is it meant to go?” Lukys snapped, anger rising in the face of Sophia’s disappointment. He found himself on his feet. “Was I meant to just bow down to you, submit to my new overlord? Is that what humanity is to become, if you conquer our world? Your playthings?”

We do not want your world, Sophia replied.

You took this one! Lukys hurled the words at her. This city belonged to my friend’s people once. You stole it from the Calafe, slaughtered their families, drove them from their lands. Now you make slaves of those who were left behind.

They are not slaves! Sophia snarled into his mind.

She stepped towards him, teeth bared, her whole body trembling. Lukys was suddenly reminded of what he faced. For a moment he’d managed to convince himself he spoke to another human, to forget what she was. Now that realisation came rushing back and he retreated from her fury.

Sophia’s eyes widened at his movement and the anger drained from her face. Silently she took a step back from him, and he thought he saw something in her eyes…terror, revulsion? Then she shook her head.

They are not slaves, Lukys, she repeated. All chose their fate, chose to live amongst us.

Lukys clenched his fists. “Then I am free to leave?”

Air hissed between Sophia’s teeth and she looked away. You cannot, she replied finally. You have seen too much.

“Then I am your prisoner,” Lukys stated.

A sigh slipped from the Tangata’s lips. I cannot force you to accept our assignment, Lukys. Her voice came as a murmur, as though she barely dared to speak. But neither can I release you, not until you swear yourself to me. The Matriarch would not stand for it.

So you’re to be my jailor? he spat back.

Sophia’s eyes narrowed. If that is how you wish to view it. She turned and strode to the door. I will return tomorrow, and every day after. She pushed open the iron door and picked up the lantern from the bench.

Panic touched Lukys at the sight of the light being taken. “Wait!” he gasped.

Grey eyes turned on him. What?

Lukys hesitated, unsure of what to say. The thought of lingering in the darkness for another day, for all his remaining days, made his entire body shake. Yet he could not surrender his freedom so easily. He thought again of Travis and Dale and the other recruits.

What of my friends? he asked finally. What has become of them?

Silence lingered in his mind, then: A few have already sworn themselves to their assignments, Sophia admitted finally. Most…still resist, as you do.

Reassured that at least his friends had not been butchered, Lukys nodded. Sophia might have been lying, but somehow he didn’t think so. Speaking mind to mind, he sensed it must be difficult to tell a falsehood.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Sophia only turned away, preparing to leave, and Lukys’s stomach twisted again with fear.

Wait! He hesitated. Can…you leave the light?

Looking over her shoulder, Sophia regarded him for a moment. Then in silence she set the lantern on the bench beside the door and slipped out. The door clanged shut. And he was alone in the silence.

13

The Fugitive

Panic ate at Erika as she lay awake in her bed, staring up at the hidden ceiling. Darkness clung to the room and the only sound to break the silence was her own breathing. Maisie was gone again, off completing some task or another for the king, no doubt. But despite the tranquillity of the night, Erika found sleep would not come.

She could not stop picturing the queen, could not stop seeing the hatred in her eyes, the promise for vengeance. Princess of Calafe or not, the woman wanted her dead. And what Amina wanted had a habit of coming true. Would she send Romaine to take his revenge?

No, it would be a true killer, someone well prepared to strike another down in cold blood. Immediately the face of the other man who had ridden alongside the queen leapt to Erika’s mind. There had been a darkness in that man’s eyes, and something else…a familiarity, as though Erika knew him from somewhere. But Erika could not quite put her finger on it.

Grinding her teeth, she sat up suddenly and threw off her covers. Rising, she crossed to the window and looked out at the silent vista. Stars shone in a cloudless sky, but the moon was hidden behind the mountains that bounded the fortress. Somewhere in the distance, though, between the stark cliffs of the canyon, she glimpsed the faintest of glows.

Dawn was already approaching. She shook her head, returning to her bed, though she did not bother to close her eyes. Instead, Erika turned her mind to the king and his actions. Why had he given up the gauntlet to his enemy? Had he truly thought to buy peace with the queen—or was there something more nefarious in his actions?

Erika’s eyes were drawn to her own gauntlet. In the darkness, the faintest shimmer of light could