by Katie Ashley
Time crawled by in extreme slow motion. I drew in a ragged breath and said, “It’s true.”
The words had barely left my lips when Roarke’s fingers pierced my skin. He jerked the neck of my shirt down. My eyes squeezed shut at the sound of Kellan’s gasp. When Roarke whirled me back around, I still couldn’t open them. I couldn’t bear to see the expression on Kellan’s face.
“This is unbelievable! Completely and totally unbelievable!” Richard said. I opened my eyes when he rushed past me to a phone on Roarke’s desk. He pressed a red button and shouted into the phone, “Send the guard up here. I have prisoners to be detained!”
I gasped. “What about the dream? You know he’s trying to overthrow you. Besides, there’s no evidence we were conspiring with anyone.”
Richard sent a stinging slap across my cheek. Micah rushed forward to defend me, and when the guard burst through the door, they saw Micah about to hit Richard. They rushed forward, knocking Micah to the ground. He fought and writhed against them until one butted him in the head with his rifle. Blood poured onto the marble floor.
Tears stung my eyes at the sight of his limp form being dragged out of Roarke’s suite. I followed behind willingly with the guard barely touching my shoulder. Kellan’s face was the last thing I saw before the door slammed shut. It was a mixture of agony and anger.
Micah slipped in and out of consciousness on the elevator ride down to the basement. Memories of my date with Kellan hit me the moment I was pushed off the elevator. But this time, I wasn’t stopping at the locked music room. Instead, we were led down the corridor and down a flight of concrete steps.
The air felt damp, and a musty smell filled my nostrils. A small holding cell stood in the middle of the corridor. They slung us inside and locked the door. Micah collapsed into a fetal position on the concrete.
I eased down on the floor beside him and pulled his head into my lap. He moaned as he went in and out of consciousness. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re all right,” I said, desperately wanting to ease his pain. Tenderly, I brushed my hand against his cheek. His handsome face was already bruising in a flourish of green and purple.
Leaning over, I pressed my cheek against his. His stubble scratched against my face. “Oh Micah, I’m so sorry. I should have run away with you the first time you ever offered, and then we wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered.
“As long as I’m with you, none of this matters,” he croaked.
Raising my head up, I met his gaze. Such love radiated in his eyes that I felt overwhelmed. Any confusion I had over my feelings vanished. It was like I was seeing Micah for the first time, and I was truly and deeply in love.
“If we ever get out of here, I’ll run away with you and never look back. No more doubt, ever, ever again,” I vowed.
He brought his lips to mine.
A club banged against the bars, and we both jumped. A dark haired man with black, hollow eyes grinned at us. “And just what do we have here? Two jail-bird lovers?” Micah and I didn’t respond. “So sorry to interrupt your love fest, but we want a word with you.” He pointed a finger at Micah, and the guards opened the door. Micah was ripped from me as they dragged him out of the cell and into another room.
Without him, I paced back and forth, wringing my hands. I froze when I heard the man talking to Micah through the air vent.
“So, we’ve got us another Believer, huh? Which faith were you?”
When Micah didn’t respond, I heard a smack and then a groan. “Jewish,” came his pained reply.
“Ah, so you know a little about suffering, don’t you?”
Micah didn’t respond, and the man continued on. “You see, even though we banished religion, marked all the Believers, and rounded them up to the outmost province, you all just keep coming back, like ants at a picnic. Annoying ants that have to be stomped out by a strong boot heel.”
When Micah continued to remain silent, I heard the man sigh. The sound of him pushing his chair back scraped along the floor. “For the last six months, we’ve been fighting off the Abir. We’ve managed to capture some of them, but even after torture, they would not give up any information.” An agonizing silence followed. “Now boy, let’s see if you talk after torture.”
The harsh crack of a whip reverberated around me followed by Micah’s agonizing scream. It pierced through chest and broke my heart. I pressed myself against the bars. “Stop it! He doesn’t know anything. Don’t torture him!” I cried, banging my hands on the bars until they started to bleed.
“Tell us where the Abir’s headquarters!” the man shouted.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK came from the room, and Micah’s screams went on and on. I covered my blood soaked hands over my ears, trying to block out Micah’s pain. “PLEASE STOP!” I shouted over and over.
A guard opened the cell door, and I rushed forward. They caught me by the arms, but I thrashed against them, desperate to get to Micah—desperate to stop his agony.
I only felt the prick of the needle for a moment before everything faded to black.
I felt like I was floating outside my body. I couldn’t feel my arms and legs. All around me there was music—more importantly, it was a woman’s voice. I tried turning my head toward her song. As my mind wrapped around the lyrics, warmth filled me. “Our love grew with the spring. We had dreams and songs to sing as we wandered through the fields of Athenry.”
A song of Ireland—my mother’s homeland and one she used to frequently sing. Most oftenm she reserved it for when I was sick or sad. She would come to my room, gather me into her arms, and begin singing Fields of Athenry just like her mother had done for her before.
My voice felt faraway and buried deep under a mound of sawdust. I tried moving my lips, but nothing seemed to come out. Finally, I croaked, “Mama?”
The singing stopped. “Mama, is it you? Am I in Heaven, Mama?”
Someone eased down beside me and took my hand in theirs. With their fingers, they stroked delicate circles on the tops of my hand as if they were prolonging speaking as long as they could. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not your mother.”
My eyelids fluttered as I tried to take the person beside me. When I finally focused on a face, I gasped. Kellan’s eyes stared out at me from a woman’s face, and I knew it had to be Maureen, his mother. It wasn’t just her eyes that Kellan had inherited. He had her nose, and the color of her hair. It was almost like seeing him in her.
“Glad to see you’re awake. You had me a little worried there. I was afraid they might have given you too much sedative.”
Frantically, I scanned the room. “Where am I?”
“One of the holding cells in the palace.” She must have read my surprise because she said, “I know it doesn’t look like a prison cell, does it?”
I nodded. The fact was the room with its four poster bed and couch and it looked almost as good as my bedroom back home. Maybe better.
“All of the cells down here look like this. It’s thought to be a kindness afforded to certain political prisoners.”
Laying my head back on the pillow, I sighed. “For a moment, I thought I was in Heaven…with my mother.”
While she gave me a comforting smile, sadness filled her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not your mother. But I am a mother, if it helps.”
“You’re Kellan’s mother.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You know my son?”
I nodded. “I, uh, well, you might could say I am his fiancée.”
Her eyes brightened. “You are?”
“I was a couple of hours ago, but I’m not sure of it anymore.” I slowly related previous night’s events in agonizing detail.
Maureen appeared horrified. “But how could Kellan just stand by and let them haul you off to prison like that? And not to do anything when Richard struck you!”
“I don’t suppose he had a choice with his father and Roarke there.”
Tears welled in Maureen’s eyes. “It’s been my hope t
hese four long years of imprisonment that somehow the values I tried to instill in Kellan would take hold, and he would see his father for the monster he is.” She shook her head sadly. “But now, I see it didn’t matter. He’s his father’s son.”
I eased up in the bed. “You’re wrong. Kellan isn’t like his father—he’s even told me he doesn’t want to be like him. I think he’s fighting an inner battle with himself about who he should be.”
Maureen wiped her eyes. “I do hope you’re right…” She stopped abruptly. “Why, I don’t think I even know your name. That’s disgraceful for a mother-in-law not to know her future daughter-in-laws name.”
I smiled. “It’s Cadence—Cadence O’Bryant.”
“And I’m Maureen. You must be Irish like me.”
“Yes, my father was second generation here, and he met my mother on a summer exchange program when they were in college.”
Maureen smiled. “You’re much, much closer than I am. It was my great-grandparents who settled here. But I do love and appreciate my roots.”
I bobbed my head in agreement. “My mother used to sing Fields of Athenry to me when I was little. My dad would always say, ‘That’s a terrible song to sing a child asleep to’, but my mom and I didn’t care. It was her voice that was soothing rather than the words.”
Taking my hand in hers, Maureen said, “Did your parents die in the Great Fall?”
I glanced down at my hands. “No, they were executed for being leaders in the rebellion. My brother and I escaped a transport bound for the Believers Province.”
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“Aren’t you the least bit disgusted that I’m a Believer?”
“Of course not.”
“You aren’t?”
Her eyes locked with mine. “Truth be told, I’ve searched inside myself these past few years, and I can’t imagine what is so very wrong with wanting to believe in something bigger than yourself.”
A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. It had been so long since I had been able to speak about belief to anyone besides Griff or Micah. “That’s wonderful.”
We were interrupted by the door swinging open. A guard entered the room. “Lunchtime.”
At the mention of food, my stomach churned. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat.”
Maureen nodded. “You just rest. We can have them bring you something later when you’re feeling better.”
“Thanks,” I eased back down on the bed.
I had almost nodded off when the door creaked open. “I don’t feel like eating. Please just let me rest,” I murmured from the cocoon of blankets.
“It’s me, Cadence,” a voice said.
Throwing off the blankets, I stared up at Kellan. “What are you doing here?”
“I had to talk to you.”
“You didn’t want to hear anything I had to say last night.”
He raked his hand through his hair, and I couldn’t help noticing his disheveled appearance. It didn’t look like he had slept, and he wore the same clothes from yesterday. He sighed painfully. “You know that was complicated for me.”
“It was complicated for you?” My voice raised an octave. “Were you the one sexually assaulted by Roarke, slapped by your father, and then hauled off to prison?”
“Cadence I—”
“But the worst of all came when I had to listen to the sounds of Micah being tortured.” Tears welled in my eyes, and I choked on my sobs. “I-I don’t even know if he’s alive or dead.”
Kellan appeared to be struggling with whether to tell me something or not. Finally, he sighed, and said, “He’s alive.”
I closed my eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks and allowing the tears to stream down my face. My eyes snapped open at his next question.
“Roarke…did he—?” Kellan appeared flustered. “What I mean is how far did he get before we busted in?”
“Only a kiss.”
He exhaled in relief, and then shook his head. “When I saw what he had done to you, I wanted to kill him.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I snapped, “Yet, you didn’t do anything.”
“Dammit Cadence, I’ve told you my hands were tied!”
“I think you like to believe that because it’s the safe and easy way out. You’re used to standing by and letting your father walk all over you and the ones you love.” At the mention of love, I couldn’t help but feel my cheeks flushing. “You always have a choice—speak up or be silent.”
“What would you have me to do? Go to my father and demand you be freed? You’re a Believer, and I can’t do anything about that.”
“So, you’ll just let me rot here in jail because my only crime is I believe in a higher power?”
Kellan gritted his teeth. “It’s more complicated than that, and you know it.”
“You’re right. I do know how complicated belief is. It took the lives of my parents when they were willing to lead a rebellion and die for their cause. Believing took everything I ever knew away from me. But no matter what has happened to me, I’ll never stop believing. I may have a tattoo burned into my skin, but my belief is burned into my soul.”
He stared at me with a swirling mixture of fascination, disgust, and sadness before shaking his head. “I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact you’re a Believer. I mean, I haven’t known any—haven’t even seen any—since before the Great Fall.” His voice grew wistful. “There was this guy I used to hang around with, Jesse. His family was very religious—they took me to church a few times with them. I never got what all the hoopla was about, but Jesse always seemed different after going. He kept asking me to come, but after awhile I stopped. I don’t know what happened to him after the Great Fall.”
“So, can’t you see there wasn’t anything truly different about Jesse? Just because he was a Believer doesn’t mean he had horns or something. After all, you kissed me and nothing bad happened, right?”
“Yes, I know all that,” he snapped.
“Then why do you still act like Believers have the plague or something?”
“Because that’s what I was taught.”
“Brainwashed is more like it,” I mumbled.
“My father didn’t brainwash me!” he argued.
“Yeah, well, my parents didn’t teach me to hate anyone. But hey, they were Believers, so that probably discredits them, right?”
Kellan’s face softened. “I’m truly sorry about your parents,” he murmured.
“No, you’re not.”
His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Excuse me?”
“As long as you stand by and uphold what your father does, you’re not sorry. He and his regime are the ones who outlawed believers, and they have blood on their hands.” My voice choked off as I said, “He’s the very reason we can’t be together.”
Kellan’s face hardened. “He’s not the reason we can’t be together.”
“Yes, he—”
“There’s someone else who will always keep us apart…Micah.”
I gasped and stepped back—I didn’t like the anger gleaming in Kellan’s eyes. “So you don’t deny you have feelings for him?” he demanded.
“No, I don’t deny it. In fact…I-I love him.”
Kellan’s jaw clenched, and then he turned away from me. Stepping forward, I said, “I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
He snorted in exasperation. “What a cliché response, Cadence. I expected better from you.”
“Dammit, it’s the truth! I never asked to be brought here to the palace. I never asked you to choose me—in fact, I tried to make damn sure you didn’t. But you still did. All I wanted was to go back home and be with my family.”
He sneered at me. “And with Micah.”
“He’s like me, Kellan. Can’t you see that? We’re from similar worlds.”
“So it’s easier with him because he’s a Believer?”
“It’s not just that he’s a Believer. We’ve grown up the same, gone t
hrough similar tragedies.”
“And what am I? Some spoiled bastard who could never make you happy because we’re too different?” he demanded.
I shook my head. “I know you could make me happy, and I do have feelings for you. I-I tried to deny them, but I can’t.”
He leaned over me to where I almost felt suffocated. “Then why can’t you choose me?”
Pushing him back, I said, “Because maybe you don’t want me as much as you think you do.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Is it? Wasn’t there some truth in what you said to me after the pageant? You’re used to getting what you want, and you wanted me. And maybe, it’s the idea of me you like rather than the real me.”
He shook his head. “If I wasn’t absolutely sure, I wouldn’t be standing here fighting for you.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “You just don’t get it, do you? Your father slapped me, and Micah faced a beating to defend me. Your father imprisons me, yet you don’t act. You give me words, Kellan—words that become broken promises.”
Before he could argue any further, the door opened, and Maureen breezed in. The air in the room crackled with burning intensity the moment mother and son saw each other. Wedged between them, I felt inflamed with the emotion burning within them.
“I didn’t know you were here, Kellan,” Maureen said, breaking the silence.
He remained glued to the floor, staring at her like she was an apparition that might vanish at any moment. With a slight smile, Maureen took a tentative step forward. “I can’t believe how much you’ve grown. You were still such a boy when I last saw you, but now you’re a man—a very striking young man.” As her smile widened, I could feel the pride swelling within her. “You look so much like me and my father.”
“I’m nothing like you!” Kellan hissed.
Maureen and I both jolted back like we had been slapped by his words. “You do look like me, you can’t deny that,” Maureen said in a whisper.
“Your blood may run through my veins, but we are not of the same character.”
