The king’s hands pulled my focus away from his son’s. “Oh, to taste you now. Make me feel alive again.”
I pushed against his chest, feeling the snap and stab as his hands twist tighter at my hair, ripping out a fistful of strands. My eyes stung in pain, and I suddenly felt the material at the back of my neck loosen and rip away at my skin. Fire sliced at my flesh as though someone was peeling up one layer at a time, the music in my head instantly ceased, and the overwhelming loss of hope scraped through the open wound.
Mathias lurched forward, hands reaching out, but then he vanished.
I shoved my elbows out and pushed harder against the king, squeezing my eyes through the burn of the pain at my back. A terrible chill crawled over my body as I struggled, turning the blood in my veins to ice.
A sudden rush of heat slammed in front of me, and Mathias was there again, pushing one of the other girls into his father’s arms and yanking me away. I fell back, leaning against him, dizzy and shivering. His cool breath fanned out on the back of my neck, dousing whatever fires I had just suffered there. He held me upright as I slumped into him and whispered my name.
Raine.
The word coated my body and slid like syrup down my spine and tingled at the curve of my hips down to the tips of my toes.
Then I was airborne, my feet flew up, and I was tossed like a potato sack over Mathias’s broad shoulder, both his hands splayed across my bottom to keep me balanced. I didn’t have time to scream or the air to breathe as he stormed toward the exit.
Behind us, the king, with a new pet in his hands, didn’t even notice he had a replacement. I watched as the girl with the wine-stained lips wrapped his arms around his neck and began grinding her body against his.
When we reached the doors, Mathias eased me off his shoulder, sliding me down the front of his body. I tried to wrench free, but he held me tight against him with one hand on the small of my back and the other grasping my neck.
“Now you’re going to see what happens to stupid girls.”
His icy tone made me look up. His eyes were fierce, his body trembling and rigid and tight against mine. I had a sudden fear my heart would rupture and explode in my chest from how hard it was slamming against my ribcage. He had to feel it too.
His lips straightened into a thin white line, and a hush fell over the room. His eyes flashed a small look of regret at me, then stared straight ahead at whatever was happening behind me. I swallowed back my fight as his expression turned bleak and distant.
I felt my face scowl. “What do you think—”
Before I could finish my thought, I was spun around and his gloved arms wrapped themselves across the front of my chest to hold me still. “Quiet, now. Watch.”
I struggled against his cage-like grip, then stilled as my eyes focused on what was ahead of us.
We weren’t in the ballroom any longer—or maybe we were and the long shadows that covered everything made it look different—I wasn’t sure. A throne sat in the middle of the room. It was an enormous monstrosity, carved out of wood and covered with bits of black onyx and what looked to me like bones. The king was sitting upon it, leaning forward as both of the blonde-haired girls kneeled at his feet.
“What’s happening—“
The rest of my question was muted by Mathias’s gloved hand that instantly covered my mouth. I wondered if I could bite through the material.
“I promise you,” he whispered in my ear, “you do not want to be heard.”
My body stilled at his warning, and from his body a restless wave of energy pulsed from deep within that I could feel against my back.
Before us, the king slowly slipped the gloves off his arms and began stroking each of the girls' faces, caressing his long fingers over their jaws and lips in small, gentle sweeps.
I tilted my head to look up over my shoulder toward Mathias, his hands, still gloved, falling from my lips. He looked forward, yet I knew he wasn’t watching the king; his gaze was low and expression grave, as if he couldn’t bring himself to witness it.
What did he want me to see? He wouldn't want me to watch the king and the two girls get all freaky, right? There was no way in the world I was going to stick around to watch that train wreck.
Mathias gently tucked my hair back and pulled his head down against my ear. “You need to watch. Settle down, Princess. And try not to scream.”
The one arm he had crossed over the front of my body tightened. Shit. I was about to watch some live dead-man porn. And I hated anyone who called me 'Princess' like I was some spoiled, overindulged female who got everything she wanted. If that were me, I’d be home with a pile of books next to me, drinking my favorite wine while all these dead assholes rotted in Hell.
One of the girls was slithering up over the king’s lap, softly moaning while the other sat on the arm of his throne, kissing him. I felt static charge through the air, and my arms and legs broke out in goose bumps. Something was happening I didn’t notice at first. The girl kissing the king—her hair—it was long and curled and golden when she sat eating the worm-filled chocolates, yet now it was gradually losing color. Little by little, the yellow hue turned pale and white and fell in clumps onto the king's chest and throne.
“What in the actual fuck?” I whispered, stunned.
“Watch,” Mathias growled low behind me. “Learn a lesson.”
The other girl was straddling his lap now, her shirt and bra discarded to the floor. She rolled her hips sensually over his lap, the material of her skirt bunched up around her waist, and as she did, her hair dulled to a soft grayish white. Even her skin, which a few minutes before had a healthy olive glow, now looked anemic and translucent. Each girl’s face, even through writhing with passionate sighs, became gaunt and hollow; like the king’s touch was sucking the life right out of their bodies.
Terror clawed up out of my throat. I wanted to scream for the girls to run, but Mathias’s hand pressed against my mouth again and the only thing that erupted from me were tears. They blurred my vision and streamed down my cheeks and over the leather covering his fingers. He still held me captive.
Everywhere the king touched them, skin blushed and turned a stark alabaster white, yet the one girl continued to ride him slow and steady, heady and erotically. Under both girls, the king looked rosy-cheeked and alive, his lips parted, his eyes closed, and the most primal sounds came from his mouth.
This was what they did to feel alive? The emptiness in my stomach ached. I watched the king, transfixed on his pleasure, and the girls, both so aroused and in a state of pure ecstasy, neither realized they were quickly dying.
And that was supposed to be me up there.
Mathias had stopped this from happening to me. Suddenly, his gloved grip on me didn’t feel like chains, but a safety net. The bridge of my nose burned; singed with the tears I tried to hold back. My breaths quickened as the girls became more and more emaciated, taking on a dangerously cadaverous look. My knees gave out, and Mathias held me up, forcing me to watch as they turned to skeletal-like creatures, squirming and squiggly in some sort of frenzied rapture.
I couldn’t cry out. I couldn’t find air. My nose clogged, and the leather of his glove still pushed against my mouth. I clawed at his arms, trying to break free, but he wouldn’t let go. I slapped at his arms, reached up, and yanked at his hair.
“Have you seen enough?” he whispered harshly against my ear.
I nodded my head vehemently, then he let me go.
My knees buckled, and I fell hard, biting into the back of my hand so as not to make a sound. I struggled for air, gulping and heaving as the mortifying scene continued in front of me. I didn’t want to see any more, but I couldn’t look away. The girls had shriveled away to nothing more than translucent grayish skin stretched taunt over sharp bones. I didn’t understand how they still moved and breathed looking the way they did—not like horror movie monsters, but real creatures born from nightmares.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Math
ias stepping back in a shadowy corner, and I became feverously unraveled.
He made sure I was okay before. He can’t leave me alone!
I scrambled across the floor toward him but lost sight of him through a sudden haze and fog. A darkness crept over the room—a dreadful blackness that moved over everything, swallowing it whole. The king and his grotesqueries dissolved into muted grays and soft sighs until nothing but a sense of heavy despair filled the room.
My legs stood, seemingly of their own violation, sparking a violent thunderstorm inside my heart. I searched through the spreading blackness for something familiar, terror crawling up my spine at what I would witness next. I took a small step, and my foot kicked against something. The sound of an empty bottle of wine rolling over the stone floor lit fireworks across my collarbone.
I stilled and closed my eyes, listening. The walls seemed to breathe, inhaling and exhaling a slow, rhythmic song. They swelled and moved, shifting themselves carefully around me. The entire place felt as if it were alive, from every stone to every speck of dust.
Then a small patch of pale light spilled over me. It traveled along the cracks of the stones and reached out to touch the tips of my toes. And there, sitting in front of me, evolving from the nothingness stood the piano.
I reached out with trembling fingers and hit one key, middle c. Behind the note, I clearly heard weeping from somewhere deep inside the castle.
I slid my fingers over the cold ivory keys, breathing in deep, and pulled out a tune that hummed softly through my mind. I had never heard it before, yet it held a familiarity that was so real, I couldn't deny I once knew it well. The lulling melody floated up from the instrument, and from just under its sound came the hushed whispers of reverent prayers.
As I played, there was a soft muffled movement behind me, and I silenced my song instantly, the last note lingering as if fighting to be heard.
I peeked over my shoulder, my fingers still trembling and hovering over the instrument.
“Did you think the dead touching the living would be anything different?” Mathias whispered hoarsely.
“But you warned me? He would have hurt me, and I thought you were the one who wanted me dead.”
“I wanted you gone. Upside. Where you belong. Why would I want you dead? That would—”
“That would what?”
His eyes penetrated mine in silent words, yet I couldn’t decipher them.
What was he trying to tell me?
“You have a heart in there somewhere.” I smiled. Jesus, now I was making flirty jokes? He just saved me from getting zombified, and maybe I was just still in shock or something.
“I did once. It’s dead now. Broken.” He sighed. “I hardly remember.”
“I think you’re lying,” I said, moving away from the piano. Looking at him, I could find no clue as to what he was thinking, but I was going to keep asking questions if he continued to give me answers. “Those two girls? They’ll stay here? Forever like that?”
“They never stay. They go somewhere else.” His gaze stilled lingered on mine. His words seemed at war with his actions, like he was fighting against telling me a secret.
“Where is Addy? Is she somewhere else?” I asked, stepping closer. We were less than an arm’s length apart now, close enough for him to hurt me, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t dare.
“I hope so. I hope it’s a place where the sun shines on her forever and fear and pain are no more than a fading memory.” He sighed, stepping away, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “You should be finding a way out of here, not wasting time talking with me. Now that you know some of the dangers here.”
I ignored him. It was probably another foolish act on my part, but I wanted to understand things here. I wanted to understand why he helped me, why I was here at all, what this place truly was.
“How long have you been...” I couldn’t use the word 'living', could I? “Uh…lingering like this?”
A dark, haunted look crossed over his face, and I watched his Adam's apple bob with a swallow, suddenly becoming mesmerized with the way his lips moved as he tried to think up the words to answer me. “It wasn’t always like this here. There was a peace, once.” His eyes darted down, and his voice lowered. “But when my mother’s soul was shattered, my father changed. It made him a monster. Everything that once was good and pure disappeared. Only the darkness stayed.”
“I’m sorry about your mother. I know how that feels.” I didn’t though. I had no recollection of my mother. But I didn’t want him to stop talking to me.
“It never stops hurting, losing someone,” he said quietly. “Maybe if you forget them, but that’s the thing, you never want to forget them, do you? Even if they’ve forgotten you.”
Somehow I knew he wasn’t talking about his mother any longer. My chest tightened, and I was instantly struggling to breathe. His lips moved as if he were going to speak to me, but then his mouth snapped shut. We were closer now too; somehow, the space between us had lessened without either one of us realizing, and my heart thrashed wildly against my ribs.
He blinked and straightened like he’d hit some invisible wall between us and shook his head, backing away.
“You drew the pictures of me. The ones in your book,” I spat out.
His eyes flashed with fire, and his lips tightened. “No.”
“Again, you’re lying to me,” I said, advancing closer to him. He had every chance before to hurt me, to throw me to his father, and he didn’t. I wondered how far I could push him. “Doesn’t it bother you? Being a liar?”
This time Mathias advanced on me, calling my bluff and devouring the distance between us instantly. “Stay here for a while, princess, and you’ll get used to it. You lose all sense of your precious humanity. Soon you’ll be able to lie and feel nothing at all.”
“You feel something. You didn’t let him touch me.”
“Just leave,” he said, turning to walk away from me.
I grabbed for his sleeve, tugging him back, and a growl ripped from his throat. He loomed over me, nose flaring, eyes brilliantly blue and angry, but I didn’t cower back or move away. “Leave, girl. Or it will be me who lays hands on your skin.” I broke out in a cold sweat, and my heart sped faster at the threat.
Then I watched him fade away. It was almost dawn.
“You need to find a way to leave,” his voice echoed, and his last word was, “Please.”
Chapter 20
I bolted for the door with his words still hanging in the air. As I ran through the hallways, dark black vines grew through the cracks in the stone walls and blades of blackened grass pushed up through the crumbling parts of the floors. The palace aged quickly around me, turning into its haunting daytime shell. I ran so fast, my heart rattled audibly and my lungs burned with fire. Mathias had answers, and I was going to find them.
I slipped into his room, chased by shadows of things that were long ago taken from the world. Skirting past nightmares and things I only believed lived in my imagination, I closed the door quickly behind me, then stood rooted halfway between his decaying bed and reading table, breathing hard.
There were books and parchment piled up on the wooden desk—covered in dust and ash. Some were scattered over the floor, and a dark, feathery plume inside an ink bottle lay turned over beside them, a stain of black dried ink beneath.
Again, a low weeping drifted in echoes through the room. This place was the pure definition of sadness and loss.
I traced my fingers over the surface of the table, reading the spines up the stacks of books. Aesopica. Theogony. Thick books of ballads and poetry. Leather bound notebooks written in what looked like hieroglyphics. Rolled up scrolls tied with thin braids of rope. Ancient Greek books of fables and gods. History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides. Works by Plato and Aristotle and Shakespeare. Along the wall of the table were more books with names I couldn't pronounce, books I thought might possibly no longer exist in my world.
In front of his chair, op
en as if someone just took a pause from reading, was The History of Ravenswood, clad with beautiful inked illustrations and lyrical lettering. Along the margins were messy notations, scribbled in a fast hand and dotted with question marks and asterisks. I touched my fingertips to the words, wondering if Addy had written the book and Mathias’s hand had taken notes throughout it.
I pulled out the chair and sat down, carefully flipping the book to the first page, hoping to read as much as I could before it turned to dust.
I skimmed quickly through the pages. Ravenswood wasn’t always a place of sadness and grief; it was once a wondrous waiting area, an afterworld where mankind reunited with the other half of their soul.
A minor god ruled over this afterworld, but he grew bored and restless and began pacing the Earth. There he fell in love with a mortal woman, so much so that he pretended to be human and wed her in the ways of mankind and gave her two children. He loved them enough to give up immortality and became just as mortal as them.
When the other gods realized what he had done, they punished the lesser god, destroying him and his entire family, cursing them to live in the afterworld for eternity.
From the day his beloved wife found out what he had done and all the ways in which he had deceived her, her human heart became full of hurt and resentment. She was now imprisoned in the afterworld and would never be reunited with the other true half of her soul. She became distraught and resentful and found vengeance by destroying her own soul.
As the mortal god’s beloved was torn from his arms, from out of his head grew a crown of skulls and thorns, and cruel black hate filled his heart. No longer was this a place of hope, but an underground tomb of grief. King Hemlock was his name, and just as his namesake implied, he was a poison to this world.
Ravenswood (Ravenswood Series Book 1) Page 16
