Authors: Rachel Robinson
Tags: #red heart pendant, #romance, #sadness, #anger, #apocalypse, #Six, #Rachel Robinson, #Love, #immortal, #joy, #Eternal Press, #glowing eyes, #spells, #emotions, #9781629290676, #magical casts, #magic, #surprise, #Finn, #blue eyes, #darkling, #Fear, #Dystopian, #feelings, #Emmalina Weaver, #Emma, #paranormal, #end of world, #6, #the six, #witches
“I see why they continued looking for you for so long,” she says. I finish a bite of food and meet her calculating gaze.
“If I was the same as the others they would have left me be?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Yes. They forget about fated darklings all the time. Once darklings start feeling, they find it prudent to leave them to their life in the circles. The dark witches have better things to do with their time.” She tilts her head and squints her eyes. “You are feeling and the prince still wants you.”
As she says this I know she sees my blue eyes and blond hair, so unlike every other witch or darkling I have laid eyes on. I look at her empty eyes and feel repulsed.
“I wish they would have killed me instead,” I say, ignoring the fact she calls him a prince. It makes no difference the caste he comes from. A witch is a witch.
Her eyes widen in shock. She rises from my table uneasily and grabs the tray. She opens her mouth, and then shuts it. I want her to say something, anything comforting, but I know she will not. She is a dark witch, born of empty heart and nothingness.
“There is a shower in the bathroom, miss…and dresses in the closet.” She points to a large, round opening in the wall. The doorway is swathed in glittering fabric and was not there before. “If you need anything further I am to be your factotum. You may call me Zeda. Call if you need anything,” she finishes her mechanical speech. My stomach lurches, from either the rich foods or her unfeeling demeanor, or both. I feel anger. She has ignored my words so I say them again with more conviction.
“Thank you, Zeda.” I smile. Her lips press into a firm line. “Perhaps you did not hear me. I said I would rather die than be here.” I stalk toward her, willing my eyes to be as blue as the sky of the old world. “Because I would rather die with happiness than live blankly!” I yell. She scuttles back, obviously unused to emotion. “Tell my betrothed that.” I rub Finn’s heart between my fingers in my pocket.
“Tell him yourself, miss. He will be up to meet you this eve.” Zeda closes the door behind her as she leaves. My stomach full, I have no urge to shower or to look in the closet. I pull a dark wooden chair from my table and set it by my window.
I stare so long that my mind conjures Finn, even though I know he is not there. He is gone.
I will be gone too.
Chapter Seventeen
July 18th, Night
I see things in my enchanted room that I never noticed when they were in my reality. My wooden headboard has small figures etched into the wood. Small hearts and stars are painstakingly carved into the sides. I know my mother has done this for me. I run my fingers over the wood and smile, glad happiness has not left yet. I prepare for the worst as I wait to meet the witch that will bring my death. I remove the onyx pendant from my necklace and zip it into my backpack. The witches expect me to show my dark nature and the pendant quells it. I clasp the necklace with the red gemstone back on. Finn’s heart will not leave me.
I cannot bring myself to look in my pack for fear of emotion stemming. Finn has filled it and I am not ready to see what he has selected as my final items. The thought makes me scared. I tuck my bag gently under my bed, and then sit at my desk to gaze into the broken mirror. A strong emotion takes root in my core when I remember the night that I broke the same mirror into a million pieces. My life broke into a million pieces at the very same time. Now, the mirror holds the image of a different woman. My blue eyes hold a small amount of silver. I am more human than dark. My blond hair is shining brightly under the glimmer of my room’s lights. It casts an unnatural brilliance on my things, my past, and myself.
I hear my door opening, a defining moment in my life. I shut my eyes and find my mother’s hug, Lana’s smile, and Finn’s laugh. I think of the circle. I remember my house. I picture the words of my book dancing through my mind. I say the words out loud because they now make sense. “Once upon a time,” I whisper, “there was a girl and she was happy.” I open my eyes as the dark witch from my unhappily ever after enters my world.
“Emmalina Weaver. You are far more beautiful than the others have admitted,” he says, his voice gravelly, his bright eyes trained on my body. I have not changed out of my clothes. I refuse to present myself as a gift to anyone, princes included.
I shuffle from one foot to the other, sizing him up. “And you are…just as I suspected you would be,” I say, intoning my words carefully. I do not wish to upset him nor give him reason to favor me. I want his indifference in this existence. He approaches me carefully and I cannot stop my heart from pounding against my chest in fear. It reminds me of when I could only feel fear. With my onyx gone I know it will not be long before I am vibrating with the dark magic they expect from me. I want to keep it down, to keep myself, but this place with magic ablaze calls to it.
I notice his fine clothing is made of the same rich materials Zeda wears. Deep, dark colors that complement his medium complexion…and his light blond hair. I gasp.
He casts me a baleful look, then introduces himself. “I am Iliam Aithe, the prince of this palace.” He gestures around my room, then thinks better of it when he sees my plain furnishings. It angers me. I ball up my fists at my sides.
“I know you are unused to our names so you may call me Liam,” he says. I take a step backward. He notices. He shuts his eyes tightly for a brief second then opens them. They are now blue—an exacting shade of my eye color. His display of magic does not ease my nerves. It only serves to show what he is capable of…a
small thing
he is capable of. Soon he will be forcing himself on me and eventually he will be killing me.
He taps his fingers together in front of him. “I want you to be comfortable here, Emmalina,” Liam says. I notice he does not say he wants me to be
happy
here. “We will have a long life together. I want to please you any way that I can. As you are to be my princess, your wish is my command.”
My stomach roils. Not only am I fated to be a mother to this man’s children, but he also infers he will force me into his company for a long period of time. I cannot contain my emotions anymore. Horror, torment, worry, loathing, and disgust pulse in my veins. I feel it happening and can do naught to control it. My body vibrates, the electricity buzzes in my form. I see Liam smiling. It is not Finn’s smile, but Louis’s. It is calculating and predatory. I shiver the same time my eyes glow white. The dark magic courses through me so quickly that it pains my limbs after being absent for so long. My arms feel heavy and I doubt I could take a step if I tried.
“You will be a fine princess,” Liam hisses, obviously aroused by my eyes and my magical prowess surfacing. I cannot consider him anything but a dark witch. I look at him hollowly. This witch empties me without trying because he is not Finn.
“What if I do not wish to be anyone’s princess?” I say, regaining both my wits and blue eyes.
“I am afraid there is not a choice, Emmalina,” Liam responds. I expect his answer, though I push on.
“Am I to keep my emotions, then?”
“Do you crave to keep your emotions?” Liam asks while leaning around me to gaze at my window. “I would assume they only bring you pain. It is time for you to be corrected.” I sense Liam’s presence taking over my body, and my room—my personal realm.
“If I wish to die instead? That was my option before I left the circle.” It seems a simple request. He knits his eyebrows and looks genuinely pained by my request. He takes off his rich, purple velvet coat and hangs it over my wooden chair. The coat looks out of place and foreign…it is a trespasser.
“I am afraid I cannot oblige that request. You see,” Liam pauses when he is right in front of me. His eyes that are blue by spell are warm and endlessly full of something. “We are the same, you and I. It rests on my shoulders to bring more like us into the world.” He grasps a strand of my hair. It reminds me of when Finn would do the same.
The same except not.
I swallow deeply.
“All of this because of the color of my hair and eyes?” The insignificance of this infuriates me. When Liam starts shaking his head I know there is more.
“While those things add to your beauty and make you desirable by all, it has little to do with why you are here. Your human mother’s sordid affair was with the monarch of the entire Dark Citadel. His fall from grace and ultimate demise was unfortunate, but as his only heir, even only half-dark, you can remedy his name. Our children will rule the Dark Citadel, Emmalina. Not just this palace, but the entire land. The new monarchy is upon us…it starts with you.”
Eyes wide, I let his words sink in. One thing I cannot fathom is my mother with the king of this unfeeling world. She was a woman full of life and humming with the six. It is incomprehensible that she would choose to be with something so dark and sinister. Somewhere deep inside I already know with verity someone forced her to be with the monarch. Probably in the same manner that I am now being forced to be with Liam. It is why she never questioned my fate because something similar was part of her past.
“What does that make you to me?” I ask. I look at his blond hair glowing in the untrue light. The shape of his nose, the slant of his chin—I know the truth.
“Fear not,
cousin
. Our DNA is perfectly compatible. There have been many generations between us. When the old world fell, spells began passing years far quicker than you can imagine. Even the few remaining humans are unaffected by our time processes. Our magic makes it seem as if a year has passed when actually fifty have gone by unnoticed. Your human DNA makes you a stranger to my genetics. We will procreate successfully, bearing children with unmerciful beauty and strong minds.”
My human stomach forces me to run into the bathroom. I double over the futuristic toilet and watch as the finest meal I have ever eaten splashes into the water. His words cause riots in my body. Liam is still standing in the same spot when I exit. He is looking out my window, seemingly bored with our whole conversation.
“You say you will give me whatever I want?” I ask. He looks at me warily, but proud.
“What can I offer you?” I know what I am about to ask for is selfish, unkind, and lethal, but I do not care.
“I want a different factotum. I want a darkling from my circle. Lana. I want her here with me safe, emotions untouched. I will not be comfortable here without her. I also want to keep my emotions. I do not want any relationship with you other than what is forced for the correction,” I tell him as I raise my chin and straighten my shoulders. I know I wear my worn clothing, but he looks at me like I am regal—awe sparkles in his eyes. He silently nods his consent and rubs his hands together, deep in thought.
“A
feeling
princess. I like that. I think the people will like that. It is a dawn of a new age. I am also quite certain you will end up begging me to make you unfeeling,” Liam says robotically. I know that I will not, so I ignore him and ask my final question.
“When an heir is born, will I be released?” Maybe my mother was wrong, perhaps they will not kill me if he speaks the truth of my royal lineage. Liam smiles widely and my fear returns.
“Yes, you will be
released.
” I do not take his words for face value. His smile is corrupt and uneasy. I already know not to trust his false expressions. He pretends the way I used to.
“Please be ready for your coronation tomorrow morning. Our agreement about your correction will also commence tomorrow night.” I see through his words like the holographs in the hallway. They are translucent, yet firm. His blue eyes flash white with excitement. On a second thought, I ask for one more thing.
“I want my window to work,” I tell him. He shrugs one shoulder and tilts his head to the side. It is a very human gesture. He steadily leers, and then winks.
“As you wish, darkling princess.” When Liam leaves my room I realize what he has done. Instead of showing me outside the palace as I intended, he has made the window into Finn’s house a reality. Finn is there, in his house, staring darkly out his window. His eyes shine wet with unshed tears.
I scream as the terror of my new reality takes root in my heart.
Chapter Eighteen
July 19th, Morning
“I will not wear anything from that closet,” I tell Zeda. I want nothing to do with the fancy clothing with colors that make my head spin. I did remove a large dress from the closet to cover my window. Finn’s face haunts me. He just stares unblinking into the house that used to be mine. He looks empty. I will ask Liam to fix the window because Finn’s pain is unbearable, but I am sure it is Liam’s intent to prove my emotions are weakening me.
I did accept the breakfast Zeda brought to my room early in the morning. I have no problems ordering her around, as she feels nothing. Nothing I say offends her. As a test I told her I requested a new factotum because she was a freak, and she smiled and continued cleaning. Everything her hands touch sparkles a little more than it did before. Her magic is masking my things in tiny increments—making them newer, forcing me to forget.
“You must put on a dress for the coronation, miss,” Zeda says. I glance at the closet with distaste, knowing she is right. I have no desire to anger Liam or the dark witches. For a slight moment, after taking a hot shower, I think I am glad to be in this place. After my skin cools I remember why I am here and what I will have to do tonight. No warm water will take the cold shiver from my spine when I think of sex with Liam.