The Awakening (The Bryn And Sinjin Series Book 6), Page 2

  I nodded, studying her carefully. I believed her.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I’m Dayna, future alpha of the werewolves.”

  I smiled at that and hoped she’d find herself in exactly that position, because Trent was no friend of mine. “Why did Luce leave you here?”

  “I don’t know. I suspect because he had to leave suddenly and didn’t have the time to bother with me. Or maybe he left me to die here since I never got pregnant. I don’t know.”

  She grew quiet then and I nodded again, understanding that there wasn’t anything more to say. She’d told me her story and I believed it. That was enough for me.

  Chapter Two

  Bryn

  I jerked my hand back from Dayna’s face. Her story reminded me of my own. We’d both been violated multiple times by soldiers under Luce’s command. I swallowed hard as I contemplated the sheer, twisted evil within that man. I’d fought for him; I’d bought into everything he was selling, and I’d done his bidding.

  And that had to mean that I’d contributed to the pain of others as an Elemental soldier, once upon a time. Others like this girl, now strapped to a rack and nearly dead. Guilt began to suffuse me and I suddenly felt oddly dizzy.

  I took a step back and breathed in deeply at the same moment that I felt my knees growing weak. My vision began to wobble and my body felt as though it were miles from my head. I couldn’t stop myself as I started to collapse.

  “Catch her!” yelled Dureau.

  I felt a pair of strong hands gripping each of my arms just in time to keep me from hitting the ground. Looking in either direction, I found Sinjin and Dureau on either side of me, holding me up. Both stared at me with worried expressions.

  “Are you okay?” asked Dureau. His concern was palpable on his handsome face.

  Sinjin seemed nervous, too. “What happened?”

  “I think it was too much for me to see,” I explained, shaking my head and feeling my mind grow sharp once again.

  “You’re sure?” Dureau asked, eyeing me as though he didn’t believe such was the case at all.

  “No, I’m not,” I answered, “but I’m going with it.”

  I wiggled my fingers as the blood rushed back into them and I was filled with a new sense of purpose. The longer we stood here, Sinjin and Dureau fussing over me, the more dire Dayna’s situation became.

  “Damek’s right,” I announced as I shook them both off and took a step away. “Dayna needs our help, and she needs it now.”

  My heart was still racing, so I took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm it down. The last thing I needed was to lose my balance again.

  “My pet—” Sinjin started in that placating tone of his that really got under my skin.

  I interjected, “I read her mind. And I believe everything she told me.”

  Sinjin nodded and faced Dureau. “As Lady Bryn demands.”

  I was glad he’d decided not to argue this time—one of the hallmarks of my relationship with Sinjin was our ability to disagree about everything. I was slowly realizing, however, that he was always there for me when I needed him the most, and that he’d respect my decisions when I made them. It just usually took way too long to get to that point.

  Dureau seemed like he required additional persuading. “The question is whether whatever you read in her mind was the truth?”

  I gave him a look—we didn’t have much time, and I’d pull rank if I had to because Dayna deserved to be saved.

  Dureau picked up on my mood immediately and corrected himself. “If you’re certain, Lady Bryn.”

  “I am.”

  “Then how do we help her?”

  Sinjin, never one to miss the action, immediately pulled his sword from its sheath at his side. “I volunteer to release her from her bindings.”

  He strode toward the medieval rack, determination etched in his features. I admired his body as he walked—he was tall, well-built, and muscular. His dark hair glistened, even in the shadowy cell. “My rapier shall slash through these bindings as easily as they once slashed through Luce’s arm.”

  I couldn’t help but smile a little at how daring and ridiculous Sinjin looked and sounded. Yes, Sinjin’s narrative was in itself amusing, even if it was annoying at the same time. But my smile was more reserved for the reminder that Luce had, at least, lost something after all the atrocities he’d committed.

  As Sinjin attempted to free Dayna with his sword, the weapon seemed to grow less effective with every flourish of the blade—the bindings appeared to actually grow stronger.

  “Bloody hell,” said Sinjin, looking irritated.

  “Why won’t your sword work?” Damek asked, frowning.

  Dureau looked at me, his glance weighted with meaning. We shared a telepathic connection allowing us to speak to each other in our minds, but I didn’t need Dureau to say anything in the moment. I knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “Because there are wards protecting her binds,” I answered and Sinjin nodded, taking a step back. He then resheathed his sword and faced me.

  “Of course, nothing can ever be easy.”

  “Where Luce is concerned, no,” I agreed.

  Then I grew silent as I realized what the answer was. It was time for the Flame.

  The Flame was an incredible power I’d been gifted with but had only learned about recently. It was some sort of fae gene that apparently only came around every few generations, which sort of explained why I hadn’t heard of it before. It gave me the power to change size and to become a raging fire. Quite frankly, the Flame scared me—but it was powerful, and I had a feeling it was the only thing that could go up against whatever magic was in the way of freeing Dayna.

  I thought about the recent training I’d undergone regarding the Flame. Monsieur D, the mysterious leader of House Gedde, had drugged me and brought me to a magical cemetery, which happened to be his true home in another pocket dimension. There, he’d taught me how to control the Flame, which was best commanded through my emotions.

  I drew in a huge breath but hesitated for a moment as doubt overtook me. This could go wrong in so many ways. What if I wasn’t able to control the Flame? What if it took control of me? What if I wasn’t technically gifted enough yet, and I set us all on fire?

  I took another deep breath and forced the thoughts aside. I couldn’t afford to delay any longer. It was time.

  Okay, Flame, I thought. Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  The Flame responded immediately, roaring up inside of me.

  I felt my body growing warmer. Sparks began to cover me and I felt myself starting to lose control as the Flame took over.

  Stop, I commanded. I summoned you. I’m in charge here. You’re not running the show.

  The Flame appeared to respect my authority, because the roar suddenly calmed. The sparks kept flying, but they were less wild now and the raging inferno that had previously been billowing within me began to simmer.

  The power was still there, but I’d managed to subvert it to my own will.

  Hmm, maybe I had learned a thing or two from Monsieur D, after all.

  With my newfound ability to control the Flame, I was fairly sure I’d be able to free Dayna from her bindings. With my right hand, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife. It was roughly five inches long and sharp as a vampire’s fang, but nothing fancy—just a well-sanded wooden handle and a silver blade. Even so, it had served me well in battle and I knew instinctively that it would serve me well now.

  As I pulled the knife to the side, I called out to the Flame again. I command you to aid me in freeing Dayna, I instructed.

  In response, the Flame intensified its power—starting at my right elbow, extending through my fingers, and ending at the very tip of my knife. The sparks grew higher, enveloping my elbow to the tip of the blade. The rest of my body, however, wasn’t aflame. I was controlling the inferno, aiming it in the direction I wanted it to go. And that was exactly how I wanted i
t.

  I started toward Dayna. Her breathing grew more labored with each passing second, suggesting death was imminent. I wasn’t about to let that happen—not if I could prevent it. With my right arm, I reached the first binding, which stretched across her stomach. The leather was strapped tightly enough that it was cutting into her skin, making her bleed. After three swipes of my blade, now covered with the Flame, the binding tore open. The next one only took two swipes. Soon, each fell apart with a mere tap of my knife. I was beyond surprised when I freed Dayna in almost no time at all.

  So was Sinjin; his arched eyebrows revealed as much. I glanced at him and smiled.

  “Magic trumps brawn,” I pointed out.

  He didn’t respond, other than to return my grin with that devilish one of his that always got under my skin.

  Dayna slid onto the floor once the leather bindings were slit. Damek sprinted to her and picked her up off the cold, stone ground, gathering her into his arms as if she were a child. I was beyond proud of him. Given his less than lucky beginnings as the illegitimate child of Luce and one of the women Luce had used in his experiments, Damek had turned into the best sort of man.

  Dayna began transitioning back to her human form as Damek held her.

  Emboldened by my success, I looked up at the rack and felt anger welling inside of me. I wanted to destroy the thing so it would never hurt another person again. I also wanted to see if I could press my control of the Flame a little further. It was definitely a good idea to practice my power, and what better way than here and now?

  Yes, it was a risky move. I’d never extended my control of the Flame this far and I was absolutely unsure if I would succeed. Not to mention that the rack had been marked with magic—it belonged to Luce, and I highly doubted he owned a single torture machine he hadn’t magically enchanted in some way or another.

  Regardless, I couldn’t in good conscience just leave it there. I had to try to destroy it.

  “Princess,” Sinjin started, eyeing me like he knew I was up to something.

  “We don’t have time—” Dureau started, but I cut him off.

  “We can’t leave it here,” I interrupted.

  Focused on the rack, I felt my anger increase. My eyes narrowed as the Flame extended back through my elbow to take over my entire right arm. A large part of my body was on fire now, but somehow, I wasn’t scared. I felt like I was in control. I reached back with my right arm like I was about to throw something, then launched my arm forward.

  To my complete and utter bewilderment, a bright blue fireball flew from my palm to hit the rack at full speed. The fireball consumed the implement in glowing blue and green flames.

  “Impressive,” Sinjin commented.

  My attention was riveted on the flames as they tore through the wood with a vengeance, growing incredibly tall as they consumed the disgusting thing.

  My ears might have been playing tricks on me, but behind the crackling of the burning wood, I thought I could hear something—the sound of groans or moaning, as if someone were in extreme discomfort or experiencing some sort of displeasure. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I didn’t really care: I was preoccupied with how satisfying it was to see the beastly device meet its end.

  “How are you going to put it out?” Dureau asked, facing me.

  Thank you, Flame, I thought. Return to your resting place.

  The sparks withdrew into my body, and the fire on my arm extinguished itself immediately. Nothing else in the cell was so much as mildly charred. My experiment was a success!

  I looked around the room at my companions—Damek, Dureau, and Sinjin just stared back at me. At first, I worried their expressions were born from fear but then I realized it wasn’t fear in their eyes, at all. It was awe.

  “I was correct to nickname you Joan of Arc, bête noire,” said Sinjin with a practiced smile. “As I recall from the ancient story,” his smooth voice continued, “her melancholic tale ended when she was burned at the stake.”

  “Then how does that have anything to do with Bryn?” Dureau spat at Sinjin.

  Sinjin ignored him. “It would appear, Lady Bryn, that you have fared better with the flames than our unfortunate Joan of Arc ever did.”

  “Yeah, good job, Lady Bryn,” Damek piped up.

  “Your timing is always impeccable,” Dureau responded to Sinjin, sounding put out. Then, he faced me. “Does no one understand that we’re in a hurry?”

  I pointed to the door. “After you.”

  Dureau nodded and started forward, leading the way. He looked back at me as he continued forward, being careful to focus on the path ahead as well as on me.

  “Lady Bryn,” he started, “you need to understand the significance of this moment.”

  “Of what moment?” I asked.

  “You just incinerated an object magically fortified by Luce. That demonstrates significant power.”

  “The dandy makes a salient point,” Sinjin concurred. “Even if his number one concern at the moment should be facing forward and leading the way out of this… lovely abode.”

  Dureau pressed on. “Those magical enforcements should not have been so easy for you to overcome, Bryn. I believe this means you are more powerful than Luce, himself.”

  “What?” I asked, incredulous.

  He shrugged. “Luce’s magic is, no question, strong and powerful. Your ability to—”

  “Yes, yes, dandy, that is all very well and good,” snarled Sinjin. “And while I agree with you, I must point out that time is of the utmost essence and you are doing a fairly terrible job of leading the way from this morose place.”

  I laughed; I couldn’t help it. Sometimes, the squabbles the two of them got into were just downright amusing.

  “I can see where I’m going,” Dureau fired back.

  “Yet you are too busy focusing on the lovely princess when you should be facing forward.”

  A small noise pulled my attention and I glanced back to where Damek was carrying Dayna just behind me. She was opening and closing her mouth as if she were trying to speak, and a small, nearly imperceptible noise sounded from her lips. I slowed down and approached her.

  “Take your time,” I instructed.

  “Can you speak and walk at the same time, my pet?” Sinjin asked.

  “Since when did you decide we’re in such a hurry?” I responded.

  “Since I became human and learned I am now subject to the calls of nature,” he admitted, to which I immediately started to laugh.

  “Regardless of Sinjin needing to use the restroom, time isn’t on our side,” Dureau said.

  I nodded and started walking beside Dayna and Damek. I leaned down to hear her.

  “Lady Bryn, thank you,” she whispered.

  “It’s okay,” I answered, never comfortable accepting gratitude from others. As far as I was concerned, I was a soldier and a representative of my sister’s court so whatever I did, I did for those reasons. There was no need for thanks.

  We grew quiet as we followed Dureau through the darkened hallway. Sinjin took up the rear behind Damek, who continued to carry Dayna. I wondered how long he’d be able to bear her weight. Yes, he was a hybrid, and as such possessed the incredible strength of a Daywalker—essentially, a vampire who could walk in the daylight. But he was also weak from this trip, and who knew how long he’d have to carry Dayna.

  “We can take turns carrying her, Damek,” I offered.

  “I’m okay,” the man-boy responded, smiling encouragingly as if to better prove his point.

  I nodded and faced the darkness that lay ahead of us, wondering just how long it would take us to weave our way out of the dungeon.

  Chapter Three

  Bryn

  It turns out that it took another two hours before we made it outside. In that time, we traveled pathways that led to nothing but stone walls and others that emptied into giant pits of black nothingness. Had we known our way and not had to turn around repeatedly, I imagined it would have taken us
maybe twenty or thirty minutes.

  Dusk was upon us as soon as we reached our destination through an old and battered wooden door. The moon and stars above were the most welcome sight I’d beheld in a long time. And the neverending scenery of pine trees before us was equally intoxicating. The landscape had been completely different upon our entry into the castle, and I could only surmise that the change now had everything to do with magic. I attributed that magic to the Unseelie Fae, which had once called Al-Jafar home. Luce never would have bothered with such “useless” endeavors as beautifying one’s surroundings. But the Fae were different.

  “We should rest and take a water break,” I suggested as soon as I inhaled the night air.

  Damek gently set Dayna on the ground beneath one of the massive trees, settling her on a blanket of pine needles. When I glanced down to check how she was doing, I noticed the abrasions on her face and body had begun to heal. It wasn’t that surprising; one of the chief abilities of weres is healing themselves. Owing to her wretched state, though, I would have expected it to take her longer to complete the process.

  I reached into my pack and pulled out a bottle of water, which I handed to her. Then I found a few snack bars and divvied those up, as well. Damek refused his.

  “She needs it more than I do,” he said, motioning to Dayna.

  “No, Damek, you need your sustenance, especially since you’ve been carrying her all this way,” I argued and pushed the bar back at him.

  “Please… take it,” Dayna whispered in her raspy voice as she smiled at Damek. Then, she turned to face me. “You have… my eternal fealty, Lady Bryn.”

  While I was touched by her words, I was also incapable of forgetting my duty to the Underworld. “And my sister?” I asked.

  Dayna nodded. “You and… your people both,” the werewolf tried to smile but only managed to appear exhausted, “as an extension of… my loyalty… to you.”

  She looked up at Damek with as much of a smile as she could muster—which, admittedly, wasn’t much. “I owe you… my gratitude… as well.”