Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

22. Silver Eyes

Chapter 22

Silver Eyes

IVAN

The carriage jolted as it veered on the gravel road, dust flinging from the massive wheels.

Fin laid out at the back, two medics swarming over him with various herbs and salves. They had managed to stop the external bleeding upon arrival, but the internal bleeding required surgery in Laias… of what remained of the bustling city.

The carriage veered left again as the city came into view. It was a city of rubble, and the castle was a pile of shattered glass and stone. The rebels had laid waste to it two days earlier.

The information she had given me was incorrect and it wasn’t the first time she’d lied.

My hands burned, the scars flaring as I opened and closed my fists rapidly to quell the discomfort lingering there. It dulled it slightly as I glanced at Thalia beside me.

She stirred against me, her eyes roaming back and forth beneath her eyelids. Her head tilted forward, those amber curls spilling over my shoulder as the wheels hit rock.

She had suddenly collapsed in the forest, the full brunt of exhaustion overtaking her with the display of casting she’d expelled at the rebel.

Heat boiled within me at the memory of his hands, his power wrapping itself around her in possession while I watched helplessly from the ground.

They weren’t even supposed to be here.

Without the display of her casting, she would have been taken. She needed more training, and what had occurred in the forest proved it.

Wrapping my arm around her shoulder, I tucked her underneath, relishing the closeness… the feeling of her.

The darkness had not swallowed her whole.

Vivid images replayed in my mind at her bound against the forest floor, tendrils of dark stuffing their inky fingers down her throat. Her mouth had opened in a silent scream as her eyes glazed over, night sweeping the land.

All I could picture was her dead. A burden I was too ashamed to admit.

I’d grown fond of her company. Her snarky remarks. The way she flicked her hair over her ear in frustration or how her nose crinkled when Fin made a joke. The thought of it becoming nonexistent in this world was a crime.

Even when the darkness seeped into my bones, the icy chill worse than Raha’s frozen lakes, I had held firm. I held firm?—

“Excuse me?” a young girl said, her doe eyes staring at me with anticipation. She shifted where she sat, her gaze darting with the ebb and flow of faelight streaming through the thinning trees.

Dressed in a plain tunic and pants, the unmistakable healing crest rested above her heart, glittering in hues of blue. Her brown hair neatly rested in two braids, the ends falling below her chest.

She wasn’t over eighteen, her cheeks rosy and full of youthful spark. “Excuse me?” she repeated. “Is… is that woman beside you alright?”

“Yes,” I spat, my arm tightening around her. “She’s fine.”

The girl bit her lip. “She has a gash above her temple.” She wrung her hands. “And she needs stitches. I promise to be gentle, your… your highness.”

“Do not use that name,” I ground out, swiping the hair away from her temples. Indeed, a deep gash rested above her left eyebrow, leaking red.

How had I missed it?

The girl chewed on her cheek, her eyes shifting back and forth. “My apologies, Kaydn,” she squeaked. “You… you are him, are you not?” she said as she gestured to my eyes.

The one sign I could not hide. The sign that gave me away at any of the Four Houses.

“I go by Ivan. Do not mention my old name again, and spread the word throughout your comrades.”

She nodded quickly, her head dipping in reverence. “Pardon my question, but what is a High Fae prince doing here?”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “Aren’t you a medic? Do your job and leave the personal shit out.”

She bowed her head low, her body shaking. “I didn’t mean to offend.” Her lip quivered as she set the med kit onto her lap. “May I?”

I reluctantly nodded, shifting Thalia to rest against my chest as I brushed her hair from her face with nimble fingers. “Make it quick.”

The girl, whether knowing not to piss me off, worked diligently and efficiently to dress and clean the gash. She slathered putrid green paste on Thalia’s bruises and cuts, her trimmed nails clicking together as she wrapped fresh linen from temple to temple.

“She’ll need rest. There’ s a med tent located near the front of the city square.” She paused. “Well, what’s left of it.”

“Thank you–”

“Aline,” the girl said softly.

“Thank you, Aline.”

She had done an excellent job as I scanned the linen across Thalia’s temple. Not one error had been made, her skills observed in the delicate needlework and cleaning she’d completed despite the jostling of the carriage.

“I can tend to yours as well,” she inquired, her fingers opening the kit as she reached for a bottle of swirling black liquid.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. A few bruises, that’s all.”

“But–”

I shifted my gaze to hers, a look of cold malice and defiance staring at her. “I’m fine.”

She dropped the topic, her hands resting in her lap as we rounded the corner through the broken gate. She knew better than to test my patience or she knew the rumors. Rumors of who I was… of the hatred I was capable of.

Shouting erupted as we rounded the corner. There were so few survivors, the streets littered with more dead than people standing. Guards, men, women, and children were piled high along the main road.

A few citizens were knee-deep in dirt, shovel in hands as they tossed the dead into massive pits. The place reeked of decay as the carriage maneuvered through the broken wood and deceased.

The rage festered further. A deep wound refusing to close as onlookers narrowed their gazes toward me. Good. Let them direct their hatred at me. Something solid. Something tangible and real.

As we neared the makeshift campsite, a few lowered their gaze in reverence, their fingers crossing in front of their lips. I did not deserve their respect.

I preferred the people who sneered.

The camp consisted of a few pop-up tents spread here and there among the wreckage. A once bustling city reduced to less than fifty tents.

Many of them killed were half-breeds, refugees from the war seeking asylum. Only a few remained from the carnage as they shouldered the hardships of many.

We had settled in a few hours ago, and a tent had been provided to toss our satchels into. I refused to visit alone. A tent sizable for three should be filled with three, not a lone prince—a fake hero.

Passing the broken fountain spurting well water sporadically, I walked through the thick overhanging flaps to the med tent, the intense smell of moisture and mildew filling my nostrils.

My eyes scanned the busy tent for my companions, medics rotating between survivors. There were at least ten wounded to one healer. An astronomical disadvantage for even the best.

A groan flitted to my ear as I passed a man bleeding from his knee, flesh torn from bone.

My nostrils curled at the intense tang of copper floating from him as a healer rushed over, a needle of black stabbing into the open wound. He’d be dead in no time. Another casualty of war I seemed to be keeping track of alone.

A familiar woman stood near the back, her hair separated into two neat braids. Aline .

I walked casually between citizens and medics until I stumbled upon Fin and Thalia’s resting shapes. If not for the bustling medics, it looked like an offering.

The only assurance neither of them fell into eternal slumber was the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests, each one to their unique tempo.

They wore clean clothes, not a speck of dirt or grime marring their skin. Thalia’s face was clean, the high arches of her cheekbones radiating a light pink hue. A few freckles kissed the bridge of her nose like a slight dusting of cinnamon—beautiful markings I wouldn’t mind tracing with my fingertips or lips.

“She’s going to be alright,” Aline stated, her gaze flicking to me as I reeled my mind to ground itself.

It often seemed to wander to such depraved thoughts when Thalia was around, despite my best intentions. It wasn’t like me to neglect my priorities for a woman. A half-breed who despised every word spoken from my lips, but that fire never seemed to fully fizzle away when she was near.

“She overexerted herself. It will take some time before she wakes.”

“How long?” My eyes flicked to the skilled medic, her hands steady as she glanced at her sleeping figure.

Aline shrugged. “Depends on her.”

I pointed to the med kit resting against a dolly cart, one of the wheels threatening to pop off underneath the weight. “Use something in there to wake her.”

Aline’s eyes widened. “If… if I do that, there’s no telling the repercussions or havoc it’ll wreak on her body without proper rest.”

“If she’s not awake soon, you must prioritize it. Understood?” If she didn’t wake up, would I be able to handle it?

Aline bit her lip, but bobbed her head. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” I said as my hands gripped the iron foot board, metal groaning and shifting underneath the weight of my grip as I glanced at her sleeping figure. “I—I’m sorry for how I acted before. I didn’t?—”

Aline’s eyes softened. “I understand,” she said as her eyes flicked to Thalia.

Clearing my throat, my fingers released from cold metal as I said, “Where do you keep your owls?”

Aline flicked her head out the back of the med tent. “Near the fountain–”

I sent her a quick wave before exiting the tent. My strides were purposeful and quick as I headed for the fountain.

A few people attempted to converse with me, but I ignored them as the familiar marble fountain again sat in the middle of the square.

A young woman stood next to cages of owls, their white coats peppered with splotches of black. “I need an owl.”

The young woman’s eyes narrowed, her hand resting on her jutted hip. “What makes you think you’re special enough to procure an owl? Your title means nothing here. Even if you were friends with the King and Queen, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It’s urgent.”

The young woman shrugged, brushing a crumb of dirt from her hand. “Wait in line.”

Hand me an owl and speak of this to no one.

The young woman approached the cage as the iron door opened. The owl perched against her hand as she walked back with pad and ink. I hated resorting to tricks, but this was a matter of importance. She needed an update on what had occurred in the forest, and I needed a distraction before I wound up staring at Thalia until she woke up.

Tying the white note to the leg of the owl, it flew off North to where I knew she’d be waiting.

“It’s nice to see you again.”

Turning around, Chiron leaned against his staff, his body hunched over from years of toiling in the castle. Salt peppered his beard and hair, coating him in regal elegance.

Chiron cleared his throat. “I wish it were under better circumstances, but thank you for coming. I know how dangerous it is for you to be here, but my people will keep quiet about your arrival.”

“Thank you.”

Clicking his staff against the ground, his eyes bore into mine. “I have news. The King and Queen of Laias are dead, leaving me to deal with the city. King Hywell has successfully knocked down another pillar standing in his way.”

“They’re dead?” I breathed, my eyes flicking to shards of glass.

Chiron nodded. “Yes.”

Anger and sadness boiled inside as my hands clenched at my sides. My friends were dead, but maybe— “Wait, what about Asa? Is she?—”

“Missing,” he answered. “We are still looking for her in the wreckage, but no body has been found.” His eyes grew dark as he attempted to straighten, his back continually hunched from shouldering too much responsibility. “There’s one more thing. The rebels found it. ”

My body froze. “Did they take it?”

Chiron’s head dipped in a low nod, a growl leaving his lips. “Yes.”