Of Silver and Beasts (23 page)

Caben doesn’t speak, and the trickling of the stream and lap of the pool becomes the only sound as we float in compatible silence. I could drift off, fall asleep in this peaceful place, but I know we still have a mission to complete before the Reckoning.

This thought awakens me, and I touch my feet to the bottom of the pool and begin to wade toward the edge.

I hear Caben’s heavy groan. “No you don’t,” he says, and captures the bottom of my tunic. He tugs me through the water, back to the pool’s center. “Not yet. This could be our last reprieve, and I plan for us to enjoy it.”

As I turn to face him, his fingers slip from my shirt to my waist, grazing my stomach. My skin prickles, and I shiver, matching the trembling water around us. His deep blue eyes meet mine, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple working. Slowly, he begins to inch up my tunic—

“Wait.” I place my hand on top of his.

He cranes an eyebrow. “It should really have time to dry before we go back.”

Logically, that makes sense. But the heated look he’s giving me says so much more. And regardless of the attraction I may feel for the prince—a woman would have to be blind—and whether or not we actually escape this hell . . . what then? We share an intimate moment once, and go back to our stations in life, simply pretending nothing happened?

Or maybe I’m reading too much into his gaze. He’s a man, and physical desire is self-serving. He may die . . . and he probably wants to bed a woman one last time. Everything about his character screams he’s not one who thinks past the moment.

I could lose myself for now, give in to the pulse quickening my blood with need, but I’ve never shown a man the clamp over my heart. It would have to be something I did for a different reason if I ever chose to do so. Not merely because I may die soon.

As I push his hand away and start to swim off, he grasps my waist, encircling his firm arms around my stomach, and pulls my back to his chest.

“Don’t run from me,” he breathes into my ear. “I’m not asking for anything. Not even whatever it is your hiding. Just stay here.”

His legs intertwine with mine, and I swallow down the burning lump that’s closing my throat and making it hard to breathe.

Caben holds me closer to him, his breath warm against my neck. “Before my father put my mother away, I took everything so seriously. She would make light of all situations, living life for the moment, and everyone was energized by her presence.” He pauses to pull air into his lungs, and his chest expands, pressing against my back. “But when her moods spiraled, the lights went out in her eyes, and her anger was a sharp contrast to her love. After a spell that left me permanently scared, my father removed her from the palace, and I was told I’d never see her again. That I had to focus on my obligations to my country, and family—especially those who need extra
attention
—were a distraction.” He laughs hollowly. “But, she’s also the reason why I steered clear of weapons—I don’t like them.”

My breaths become labored as I try to breathe normally. I close my eyes and feel the burn of threatening tears. Why is he telling me this? Don’t, Caben. Not now. Don’t choose now to drop your walls. We need them.
I
need them.

He continues, his voice strained. “I hated my father for choosing the kingdom over his family. For abandoning her, and for forcing me to do the same. I knew she never meant to harm me; it was the madness in her mind. And I thought becoming more like my carefree mother would keep me close to her while also punishing him. Only, when you speak of duty and loyalty, I realize that I’ve been doing her an injustice. I’ve been running.”

I wrap my arms around his and feel the tremor in his body. “Caben . . .”

He shakes his head, the rough, stubbled skin of his chin grazes my neck. “I abandoned my father when the Otherworlders attacked. I ran, left him there, but in my mind, I thought I was teaching him a lesson—showing him how it felt to have someone you trust dismiss you. But”—he releases a shaky breath—“I didn’t believe he’d be killed. I didn’t think the Otherworlders would get past the guards. Truly, I’m no better than him.”

Turning around in his arms, I bring my arms up and lock my hands on his face, forcing him to look into my eyes. “He told you to safeguard the crest. He wanted you to flee and to protect your kingdom. You did what was right, regardless if at the time you thought otherwise. You’re carrying around guilt that doesn’t belong to you.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and grips my waist. I can feel the fight in him, trying to let go of the shame he’s held on to since the death of his father. But I know how that shame, that
guilt
can become your world, and his pain sears me.

I trace my fingertips over the white scar along his cheekbone. “How old were you?”

He bites his bottom lip, then says, “Thirteen.” His arm tightens around my waist, and his free hand pushes strands of damp hair away from my face. “I still want to believe in her—that she didn’t mean it.”

I nod, because I understand that need to believe in those who are supposed to protect you—not hurt you. “She’s sick, Caben. And you have the chance to make amends for your father and her by ruling your kingdom with both duty and love. Nothing is lost. You can have what you desire.”

His eyes penetrate mine, and his hand stills in my hair, cupping the back of my neck. “But what if what I desire is unattainable.”

The atmosphere of the cave steals the air from my lungs, crushing my chest. Before I can reason a response—any rational reply—Caben presses his forehead to mine and inhales deeply. His eyelashes brush against mine, and I close my eyes, feeling his breath against my lips.

His mouth lowers closer toward mine, and as the warmth of his breath smolders my lips, I take his hand and begin inching it downward. Toward my chest—toward the casing of the clamp—and part my lips to meet his.

A cry pierces the silence.

Our trance is broken. It’s followed by another wale, deeper and more desperate.

We jerk our heads in the direction it came from. Another sector; one of the other leagues. He glances at me, fear igniting his blue irises, just before another scream shatters our secluded cocoon.

Caben steps before me and places them in my hand. He doesn’t say anything as we yank on our clothes. My eyes can’t help but wander to the toned muscles of his arms and legs as he fights into his pants. I give my head a hard shake, tearing my gaze away, and another high-pitched wale sounds out, capturing my full attention.

He grabs my hand, and we hunch down and hustle through the opposite tunnel. We splash though the shallow stream as a grinding noise echoes off the rock walls. The high whirring sends a shiver splintering though my system, and my skin prickles.

Up ahead, a dim light peeks through a crack. I drop the light-stick down the front of my sopping tunic, dousing our light. As we reach the opening, the noise rings out in clear rhythmic buzzes. Some kind of tool—a drill.

Caben drops to his stomach and angles his head over the ledge. I tug his arm to pull him back, but he holds up his hand. “They can’t see us.”

I’m not so sure about that. If it’s Otherworlders down there, their eyes are made for this dark world. I bet they can see down here just as clear as we can see in our bright world.

But my curiosity wins out, and I lie down next to Caben, the water soaking my pants.

Below is an exact replica of our training room. For a moment, I wonder if we’ve simply went in a circle until I catch a glimpse of a contender that I don’t recognize. He’s strapped to a chair, his bright yellow hair fanned out over the back. Two Otherworlders stand on either side of him, one holding a tool with a sharp point to the contender’s open mouth. The other forcing the yellow-haired guy’s mouth open as the drill fastens metal wiring to his teeth.

I grind my own teeth to keep from shouting out.

The piercing shrill of the drill drowns out the contender’s screams as the Otherworlder adds more metal to his mouth.

It’s barbaric. Caben reaches over and grips my hand. Whether to offer comfort or to keep me from jumping down there and killing them, I’m not sure. Maybe both.

Finally, the man’s screams stop, but the drill doesn’t. He’s either gone into shock or he’s too drained to fight anymore. When the Otherworlder pulls back the drill, I get a full view of what’s been done to the contender.

His mouth has been transformed into a killing device. Silver razor-sharp teeth glint against the ultraviolet light. The Otherworlder holding the contender’s mouth closes his jaw, testing his bite. It snaps shut with a sickening
snap
.

I’ve seen many inhuman things from the Otherworlders since they invaded my city. But this mutilation makes the mercury fire through my veins like a heat-seeking projectile. It’s too much—too callous—even for them. Bax might be a part of their evilness, but I could never imagine him doing this to one of his contenders.

And with this thought—

Lilly
.

Oh, Alyah. What have they done to her?

Every muscle in my body tenses. I release Caben’s hand and spring to my feet, pushing myself into a position ready to launch.

Caben draws up and wraps his arms around me from the side, pinning me to the wall of the tunnel. “Kal,” he breathes next to my ear. “Focus. There’s nothing we can do now.”

I wrestle one arm free and grasp his jaw, turning his face toward mine. “Lilly is down there—”

“She’s tough,” he snaps. “Think about it. Why would they tamper with a Nactue?” His eyes widen, begging for my reasoning. “They won’t chance weakening her before a match. That contender is a low rank—a Dark Horse. Remember? They have nothing to lose with him.”

Caben’s right. Bax told us that Tobias was to battle an equally ranked contender: Metal Mouth. I shut my eyes and release my death grip on Caben’s face. Then I slam my hand down, sending my anger into the rock floor.

Noise comes from below again, banging and jostling.

“Are you back?” Caben asks.

I nod, my movements forced. It must be enough because he slowly releases me, then turns to look over the edge. Saying a quick prayer for control and wisdom, I beg Farrah to bestow me with her will. There’s some reason I’ve been brought here; some purpose. I pray being made to watch my sisters die is not part of it.

Scooting closer to the opening, I hunch down and peer over the side. The Otherworlders have packed away their torture devices, and the contender has been removed. The training facility is empty, and a still quiet sets my nerves on edge.

“She’s in one of those chambers,” I say. “I have to go down and find her.”

Caben forces out a strained breath. “I’m coming with you.”

I shake my head. “No. You have to be able to get back if I’m caught. The Nactue need someone from all the leagues on their side if there’s a plan in motion.” I look at him. “Now isn’t the time for your manly pride, Caben. I can take care of myself.”

“You think that . . . ?” His lips press into a hard line. He jerks his head sideways. “Never mind. Go do what you need to do, Kal. I’ll wait here.”

As much as I want to reassure him and make him understand, I need to uncover the truth of the Otherworlders more. In my soul, I understand why I took that vow—why I chose my empress and duty over myself. There is no room for matters of the heart.

It becomes a weakness.

I can’t allow the prince’s pain, no matter how close to my own, to cloud my purpose. Getting him back to his kingdom, saving Empress Iana and my country
is
my purpose. I can’t even allow the worry for my mother to invade my thoughts.

In a way, I’ve
forbidden
myself, and it was a conscious choice.