The Heart's Ashes
Page 127

“I am Drake.” His voice was soft, a tone for a child. I turned my eyes to the side, catching a glimpse of his stubble-covered chin and the golden, tan colour of his skin. He reached down and shifted my hair to one side; gentle enough to show he knew kindness. “Do you know of me?”
“You’re the king?” I asked delicately, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.
“So, you’ve heard of me, then?” he asked.
I nodded.
“You know, Amara, if you do, in fact, prove to be Lilithian, that makes us relatives,” he spoke even softer, “—being that you descended from my sister’s bloodline.”
I nodded again.
“Then, you know you must endure the same fate as she.” He rose and stood above me.
Feeling an upsurge of panic shake my elbows and chin, I looked down at my hands—blood-covered, long, thin fingers. These hands were made to play the piano, not to meet with an ending such as this. “Why do you have to kill me?” I nearly choked on my own dry tongue.
“Do you not know?” Drake landed beside me again, cupping my face with his bony fingers. “You are a weapon, Amara—built only to destroy. We must rid the world of your kind of evil.”
“I’m not evil.” I tore my face from his touch. “I’m just a girl. You’re evil.”
Drake took a breath and drew back slowly, his arm rising as Jason’s hand shot out and hoisted me off the floor by the nape of my neck. “You will show some respect, creature,” Jason yelled into my face; I reached back, gripping his wrist with my nails to free myself from the tight twisting of my hair.
“It’s quite all right, Jason.” Drake stood; I kept my eyes on his cloak. “She will learn her place soon enough.”
The king floated back to the table of councilmen, and Jason released me; this time, I fell to my side, my hips wearing the dull impact of the fall. I pushed up on my hand and looked right into Jason’s soulless eyes; you nearly ripped my hair out, Jason. I touched my fingers to the back of my neck, so sure I was now bald there. Why are you doing this?
“Because you are a creature of sin—and you must die.” He looked down at me with disgust, stealing my thought.
Creature? How can he say that? He cared for me, taught me to fly in my dreams, picked wildflowers with me.
The council talked quietly among themselves while Jason stood like a soldier in the middle of the room, me at his feet like a scorned pet, and my heart on the floor in front of me. The side of my hand hurt where he’d forced me to the ground, and I traced the tips of my bloodied fingers with tear-filled eyes. “So, you hate me?” I looked up at him.
His eyes narrowed, staying on the council. “Yes.”
I sniffled, unwilling to even hide my crumpling face. The council stopped talking, glaring up at as. “But…you said you loved me.”
“I said nothing of the sort.”
“Yes, you did!”
Jason’s lip lifted over his teeth as his arm folded diagonally across his chest, coming back down sharply across my lip and nose; I screamed and fell onto my elbow, forced by the sting.
“I don’t love you.” He dropped to his knees in front of me, squeezing my face before I could take a breath; “I never did. You we’re just a game to me.” I looked up at his clenching teeth, twisting my fingers around his wrists as blood dripped from my nose in one tickling line.
“I don’t...I don’t believe that.” My eyes fell past him to see the reaction of the council, all motionless, watching the show with a hint of amusement.
“Did you really think I would love you? You pathetic little whelp.” His hands shook tightly around my face as he laughed, then threw me away again. “You disgust me.”
Leaning on one hand, I pressed the back of my wrist to my upper lip, and through heavy breaths, smoothed the blood away from the burn in my nose.
“She has so much faith,” he addressed the council again. “I read it in her thoughts. She believes she will be saved.”
Drake scoffed with a certain amount of amusement and went back to his discussion, no longer interested in our little show.
My chest tightened into my stomach as I sobbed aloud, gasping through each pause enough to catch a breath. With pleading eyes, I searched Jason’s gaze for kindness, my face crumpling when only a cold, stiff man stared back at me.
“Stop crying,” he said coldly.
My shoulders shook harder. I folded over, dropping my face as the tears rolled in lines of three down my cheeks.
“I said stop crying.”
“I can’t,” my voice wailed out.
“Then I’ll make you stop.” He grabbed the base of my neck again.
“That’s enough!” Drake stood as I cried out.
Jason stepped back, and in a slow, ghost-like movement, Drake swept toward us, his dark cloak gliding over the stone—his feet seemingly non-existent. My sobs quietened with a pause of my breath. Drake reached down to me. “To your feet, young one.”
My hand trembled the slow ascension to his, and I pulled against it to force my shaking legs to a stand.
“Do you know why this is happening to you?” Drake asked kindly.
Lost for words, my lips sat rounded, parted slightly as air moved through them. Up close, Drake’s eyes were like a rare gem; if it weren’t for the malice festering in his soul underneath, the violet flecks over the brilliant blue would actually be very beautiful.
“Did you remove her voice box as well?” Drake turned to Jason, smiling malignantly.
“That can be arranged.” Jason folded his arms.
My lips tightened into a pout and the sobs turned to snivels, my heart calming now with the safety of height.
“Amara.” Drake’s hand hovered near my cheek, his lips tasting my name. “Princess Amara. Beauty beyond words, but a bite of death.” His rounded eyes studied mine carefully. “I must apologise for what we plan to do to you. Were it not for your bloodline, I’d claim you as my own. Please understand, my lovely girl, this is nothing personal.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Then again. Maybe it is.” He laughed wickedly, his high-pitched burst of air greeted with the chuckles of the council at the table—all except one; a man whose face watched mine, studying me carefully, his eyes narrowed, intense—familiar somehow.
“What are you going to do with me?” I drew myself up stiffly.