The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2)

by Catherine Wilson

  “There, my child,” he whispers, reaching up to cup my cheeks. “This is the girl who I needed to see. Now, show me your heat.”

  Just as I feel the burn of his fingers against my skin, I’m thrown to the side, my head pounding against the floor as he rolls to his feet. Sparks invade my vision and my ears throb with a sudden rush of blood. He prowls toward me, fire building within his palms and flowing to the floor like warm waves of water crashing at his feet. Movement catches my eye, and I see Aras causally making his way down the stairs, walking toward Bates’ side. The ring of fire is now nothing but a curling circle of smoke rising into the air. I start to call out, begging Aras to leave him alone, but a sharp wave of heat lashes across my face, leaving a stinging burn as my mother’s power rushes to protect my skin.

  “I said, show me your heat!” Knox’s voice rings throughout the room, but this time, I’m ready for his fire. Instantly, I’m on my feet, orange flames hovering over my fingertips as my boots circle the floor.

  “Oh, I heard, Father,” I seethe, coaxing the flames to grow in my palms, “and I aim to show you well.” I lift my hand toward him, the fire flowing from my fingers, swirling into a brilliant ball of flames near his chest. Astonishment flashes in his eyes—the fire grows bigger with each breath of air that it consumes. Following my will, it begins to move, gliding across the room to where my father eagerly awaits. The oranges and reds flash brighter, their patience growing thin as they beg to be unleashed. But I won’t do it. I won’t let them pounce. I’m no fool to think I’m strong enough. At least, not yet. So for now, I allow the flames to hover at his face, and I dream of the day when I will win.

  Behind him, Aras bends down to Bates’ side, his careful fingers pressed against his neck. Seemingly satisfied, his eyes rise to meet mine. For a fleeting moment, a look of remorse crosses his face. The fire wavers, its flames fizzing out only to light again. Knox’s keen eyes narrow with interest.

  “It’s done,” Aras calls, causing us both to jump as he strides toward Knox’s side. “And our princess proved her worth. Not a bad production, I’d say. Though perhaps we should call an end to this little fire show or else she’ll burn herself out. After all, she wouldn’t be much help to us then, now would she?”

  Knox regards Aras with a brewing mistrust until he slowly tilts his head, turning his focus on my fire once more. “Yes, she certainly wouldn’t be worth much then, but she will still need some practice. You’ll have your work cut out for you on this trip, Aras. I don’t think I need to remind you what happens to you if she doesn’t pull through.”

  Aras shakes his head with ease, as if whatever punishment Knox has in store for him, should I not succeed in their mission, is of little importance. As if he has a death wish written across his perfect, olive cheeks.

  “Now, Brave,” Knox continues, facing me once more, “enough is enough.”

  A dark fire unleashes itself from his palms, darting out to my flames and consuming them whole. A violent smoke pops in their place, sizzling into the air as my father’s heat swallows my fire. Unable to stop it, a gasp leaves my throat, and I’m left standing alone with the flames of my magic still burning on my palms.

  I knew Knox’s magic was strong, but this revelation leaves my world tilting on edge.

  “What is it, child?” he coaxes. “You’ve gone so pale. Surely, you must understand the power of my magic. The very power you should strive to have running through your veins.”

  The flames extinguish, my heat sucked dry and taken over by the protective cool. Steam rises from my fingers, and I tuck my hands behind my back, willing my fear to disappear along with them. Hesitantly, my eyes slide to Bates, who still lays motionless on the floor, and I hope to the stars that there’s something I can still do to make him better.

  Knox follows my gaze, a smug assurance settling across his face. “Now that the unfortunate position of Bates has caught your attention, perhaps we should review your role during this trip to Theron.”

  My shoulders stiffen, and I grit my teeth to stop the slight shake of my chin. Aras watches me with those brilliant blue eyes of his. A hundred different emotions strung tight across his face, yet I can’t read a single one of them. When he catches my stare, his gaze dips down and his lips press together in a thin line, and for a single moment, I’m relieved at what I see.

  The purest of regret swimming in the deepest of confusion.

  Maybe my Aras isn’t completely lost… not yet.

  “Listen to me Brave,” Knox says, calling my attention back to his scowling face. “When you arrive in Theron, you will tell the prince that you want to follow through on your betrothal. This isn’t about Ingrid’s deception or my punishments, this is about two kingdoms that are on the brink of war, and you are the key to stopping it. Do you understand me, Brave? There is your marriage, or there is war. To ensure Theron makes the right choice, you will convince the entire kingdom that I have agreed to allow you to rule alongside the prince, so that Orien and Theron can finally live in peace. Then, on the night of your wedding, when the ceremony is complete, you will kill him, along with the entire royal family.”

  My answer is accompanied with an angry snort. “Oh, is that it? All I have to do is kill them? If that’s the case, then why haven’t you done it yourself? Why send your daughter to do your bidding for you? It’s obvious from our time here that my power is nothing compared to yours.”

  “But there’s where you’re wrong, little one. My power is strong, yes, but that’s not the point. The Royals have their power as well. Together, without a doubt, they can stop my fire from burning them whole. You see, it’s why Theron has stayed safe all this time. Until now.” His eyes narrow as he approaches me, hands outstretched until he latches onto my arm, pulling me toward his chest. “Now, I have you. The girl of mixed blood. Mixed magic, to be precise. You, my child, cannot be stopped. There’s not a soul in Theron who can defeat you, simply because you share their lineage.”

  My mouth works to deny it, to tell my father that he does not speak the truth. But as soon as the words start to form, my thoughts dart back to Reeve when I almost broke through his barrier by the river. His eyes were wide and filled with shock.

  Knox’s words are true.

  “And if I refuse?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

  “Then Aras will kill Viviana. And when he’s through with her, I’ll travel to Ashen, and I’ll ruin every soul living within her walls.” My face tilts away at his words, horror filling my chest, but he grabs my cheek, forcing me to look at him once again. “Then I’ll find your papa. Your perfect, sweet Emory. And I’ll make him wish I would have killed him when I discovered his betrayal so very long ago.”

  Knox’s words settle in thick, a drowning water that fills my lungs. Papa’s face floats in my vision. The people of Ashen bending on their knees as they watched me go. They had faith in me—all of them. They believed I would one day be strong enough to do what was right. They risked their lives to welcome me into their own, and now I boldly risk theirs.

  I don’t know if I can do it.

  “She’ll do it,” Aras says, pulling me from my hopeless thoughts. “She’s too close to Viviana, and she practically worships Emory. We’ll get the job done, and then Theron will be yours.”

  Knox lets go of my face. The force of his grip leaves imprints on my skin. He watches Aras for so long that I fear he’ll try to burn us both, until he finally relents, backing away from my side and taking his powerful heat with him. “Very well then, Aras. If you think she’s ready, then I expect you to leave out by morning. As you can imagine, Theron is anxiously awaiting their future princess’ arrival, and you should be there within two days. If at any point you find Brave to be the least bit uncooperative, then you have my permission to take the appropriate action.” He turns toward me, stepping forward to clasp my shoulder. “And I’m sure you understand those consequences, daughter. Until we meet again.”

  And like an evil spirit disappearing into the ni
ght, he’s gone. The black smoke clinging to his tunic and trailing his boots as he walks out the red doors. Silence fills the chambers, and I pull in a deep breath, hoping Aras will follow his lead. Instead, I look up to find him moved, his hand placed gently on Bates’ back as he kneels beside his face. Aras catches me watching, and I brace myself for the punishing words that never come.

  “He’s asking to speak to you.”

  “What a pleasant joke, Aras,” I mumble, not willing to trust the sound of my voice. “I’m more than aware of Bates’ current position. You don’t need to goad me otherwise.”

  Aras doesn’t respond to my words, but bends his head down once more, his brow pinching in thought. My eyes are so busy taking in Aras’ strange behavior that I almost miss the subtle movement of Bates’ lips. Leaping forward, I rush to his side, my hands hovering over his burns. Bursts of cool mist leave my hands, making a small, but purposeful trail of renewal down his charred arms. Bates’ gray eyes roll to meet my own. Both regret and understanding brew in their depths. His lips part to speak, but I press my finger against them, knowing what he has to say next, and praying he doesn’t say it all the same.

  “No,” I whisper, blinking away the tears as they pool along my lashes. “Please. Don’t you say it, Bates. I know you think it will make this all right or justify the deeds that have been done, but it won’t. No matter how much you believe it. No matter how much she believed it, it won’t make this go away. It won’t make this better.”

  Bates’ lips form a soft smile against my finger—a move that takes almost all of his strength—and I know without a doubt that my battle is lost. “Even the darkest night has light,” he whispers as my finger shakes against his lip.

  And then he says it again. And again. And again.

  Ten times total, until he thinks his words have finally met their mark. Until they are burned across my flesh, melting into my bones, begging to make me whole. And when he finally stops, and I no longer feel the gentle puffs of his breath against my skin, it is only then that I allow my trapped sobs to fill the air.

  I can’t let this happen. I can’t let him go.

  Cold leaks from my fingers, desperate rushes of ice pushing against his skin. My sobs turn to cries of anger. My blood boils but fights to cool from within. My hands race across his tattered clothes, searching for skin I hope to heal. My breath starts to heave in frantic spurts, and my vision fills with the black dots that I first met in the woods so very long ago. I’m lost in a daze of rising steam. A pathetic wish to heal.

  Until finally, the room around me loses its light.

  “You’ve got to stop,” a low voice soothes against my ear as my cheek falls flush with the red carpet beneath our feet. “You’re going to hurt yourself. It’s too late. We’re too late.”

  My lids flutter open at the words, a deep remorse floating in their tenor. My eyes remain clear for the briefest of seconds, only taking in the dark hair falling over his smooth skin before the black consumes me again. For the first time ever, his comfort doesn’t reach my heart.

  “I’ll never forgive myself,” I whisper, not caring if he hears me at all.

  But just as the darkness calls me home, reaching out and pulling me away from this cruel place of death and sorrow, his quiet voice finally finds its way into my heart.

  “Neither will I,” he says.

  Fourteen

  The night is a long one, filled with tears and wishes and the frantic beats of sorrowful hearts. I’m not sure if we can go on today, but Vivi assures me that we can. It’s what Bates would want, she says, and for him, I believe I’d do anything.

  I’m really not sure why I expected any less from my little sister. She is the beast of this duo. The one who will always keep us afloat. If I didn’t have her to comfort me after Aras half dragged/half escorted me back to my room, I think I’d still be passed out in the bed, pretending to join Bates in the stars. It doesn’t escape me that somehow, through all the tragedy she has faced, she still manages to control her sorrow. Makes it worth something and rises above.

  She always rises above. One day, maybe I can, too.

  “Where is he?” Vivi demands for the fifth time, her boot bouncing in tune to a silent beat against the dirt. “When he brought you back last night, he said to meet him by the stables at dawn and not a second later. I swear if the sun gets any higher, somebody is going to be burned, and it’s not going to be me.”

  Beside us, Sireen shifts on uneasy feet, probably second guessing her sanity for wanting to go with us on this journey in the first place. I can’t say I blame her. If I were in her position, I’d have run long ago.

  “Don’t worry, Vivi,” I soothe. “Once he arrives, I’m sure you’ll be wishing for these private moments of peace. I have a feeling we won’t be getting any after this.” Vivi responds with a half-hearted shrug, digging the toe of her boot into the dirt. “Besides,” I continue, “perhaps we weren’t the only ones who had a long night.”

  This time, Vivi’s eyes pop up in disbelief, and her twitching limbs freeze as she takes me in. “A long night?” she asks, pale cheeks turning pink. Though I told Vivi of Aras’ interesting lie, when he convinced Knox that Bates was already dead in order to buy me time, she didn’t seem as affected as I was at hearing it. She was actually even angrier that Aras didn’t stop his death from happening to begin with. “Out of the three of us, he’s the one who deserves it the most, yet something tells me he fell right asleep as soon as his precious little head hit the pillow.”

  “And whose precious little head are we speaking of?” Aras grumbles as he appears behind Vivi’s shoulder, a large pack in tow. His raven hair curls in a mess around his face, and his blue eyes are rimmed with red. Dark shadows line his cheeks, and the scowl on his lips tells me that he’s as ornery as a wild boar.

  Vivi spins in alarm. “Don’t you look delightfully savage today?” she sneers as he drops his pack at our feet. “You do realize this trip is bound to be just as unpleasant for us as it is for you?”

  Aras rolls his eyes, the motion only highlighting the red lines that snake against his whites. “And I have every right to be, missy. I’m the one who has the pleasure of escorting three useless women through the woods.”

  “Humph,” Vivi puffs, while I debate whether to reach out and take her hand, lest she decide to slap it across his face. “Three useless women who could light a fire up your—”

  “Viviana!” Sireen interrupts, rushing to her side. “Look at that braid! Come, we must tighten it up before we leave.”

  After she tugs a reluctant Vivi to the side, the two walk away toward the open stables where Sireen will apparently make her adjustments. Aras stares after them with a dry amusement. “Sounds like it needs a little loosening if you ask me,” he jests.

  “I guess it’s a good thing no one asked you, isn’t it?” I chirp, determined not to let every interaction with him bring back the memories of poor Bates dying at my hands. “Now, if you want this journey to go as planned, then I suggest you speak to Vivi as little as possible. Ashen knows you only rile her up, and if I’m going to go through with Knox’s plans, we’ll need her on our side.”

  And though I don’t say it, Vivi will be on my side no matter what—even when I risk our lives by turning against Knox. But Aras doesn’t need to know that. He doesn’t need to know anything as far as I’m concerned.

  “And what about you?” he says, folding his arms across his chest and tucking his chin to meet my eyes. “Do I rile you up?”

  Heat floods my chest, and for the first time since Aras left us cold and alone to face our father’s wrath, it’s not from magic, but from something else. “Absolutely not,” I bristle, hoping my cheeks don’t deceive my words. “I’m afraid you’ll find that not many women find such crude arrogance to be an attractive trait. You mustn’t confuse my annoyance for desire, friend.”

  “Is that what we are now? Friends?” he asks, his dreadful dimple catching the early morning light of the sun. “And h
ere I thought we were enemies, Penelope Brave. Perhaps this journey won’t be so horrible after all.”

  His playful words, so true to our beginnings, make an awful play for my heart, diving in deep and seizing it whole. I’m not sure what’s brought about this sudden change in Aras—the quiet resurrection of a boy I used to know. But he’s still not quite there, not yet. And for now, I’ll let my rising hopes lie hidden. “Oh, it will be horrible,” I say, trying my best not to return his grin. “I can promise you that.”

  Aras’ smile turns wolfish, and he opens his mouth to speak, when a shiny, black coat catches his eye. Venturing out of the stables as if he hasn’t seen the light of day in ages, a dark stallion prances on large hooves. His head bobs as whiffs of breath puff from his nose and rise into the cool morning air like a swirling steam. Beside him, a tiny vision of black braids appears. The reins are held tightly in her small, but capable hands.

  Vivi, it seems, has found her horse, and by the looks of it, he’s the biggest four-legged creature to walk the lands.

  “Oh, no. I don’t think so, Princess,” our lovely guard shouts. “He’s not one of the horses I ordered to be prepared for our journey, and you best step away before he loses his wild temper and tramples you to death.” Gone are Aras’ probing smiles, replaced with a narrow look and an even tighter grimace. He spares me a single glance of desperation, as if I can somehow fix the untamed, stubborn little girl known as my sister. When he’s met with a cautious stare of my own, he shakes his head, trudging quickly, but carefully to her side.

  “This sweet thing? Trample me?” She laughs, pulling the stallion’s nose to her lips and greeting him with a soft kiss. “Why, he’d never. He’s the only one that would meet my gaze when I first walked in. Friendship at first sight, this horse and me.”

  Aras growls at her words, marching forward until the horse spots him, raising up on two back legs and pawing its massive hooves into the air. For probably the first time in his confident life, Aras balks. His shoulders tense under his white Orien tunic, and he surveys the pair from a safe distance away. “So says the girl who has never ridden a horse,” he sneers, crossing his arms once more. “Forgive me if I’m not inclined to trust your judgement.”