CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The hooded man pauses outside an imposing door, purposefully giving me time to try and compose myself. His hand halts on its way to knock on the door and he looks in my direction, his face still obscured by his hood. My internal struggle must be clear because I nod at him and the stream of foreign, and yet now so familiar, emotion bleeds its way into my core. Taking a deep breath, I take what he offers to help steel my nerves. I clench my stomach muscles in an attempt to hold on tighter to what I have no doubt will be my lifeline as we enter on the General's command.

It takes a moment or two before my eyes adjust to the new light, after the dark hallways lit only by torches. The light in the General's large room is soft and I unwittingly emit a low gasp. Directly opposite the doorway is a wall of glass through which are velvet green hills, not unlike my dress, and the sky. Still grey, as it was from the bathroom, but the contrast of the sky with the gently blowing grass is almost mystical. It reminds me a little of the fields from my dreams, the only place I've seen so much green.

'Sir.'

The hooded soldier's voice startles me from my reverie and I see the General lounging in a heavily cushioned chair to the right of the window, a pile of papers on his lap. In front of him, a fireplace is built into the wall and sends a lovely, welcoming heat into the room that's at odds with the apprehension in my gut.

'You may sit,' the General waves a hand at the large dining table. 'I'll be with you in a moment, I just need to catch up.'

I take in the colourful wall hangings from where I sit. They're quite lovely, really, and I'm sure took great skill to complete; but wish I could see out of the window, instead. Tonight might be the last time I see the sky.

Surreptitiously, my eyes find the hooded man, who stands ramrod straight by the door. I stare at him and my heart rate steadily evens out a fraction, as if I can steal some of his strength. I can't be sure with his hood on, but I feel as if he is staring straight back at me. The thread of emotions between us thrumming. The General appears at my side and hands me a drink. I make myself look away from the hooded man and take the drink, inclining my head in forced thanks to the General.

A deep red liquid fills my cup and I inhale. Wine. It smells good but makes my heart ache as memories of my time with Phoenix make themselves known. That was when I last had wine. Before I said goodbye to it all, without even knowing. The General holds my gaze, his purple eyes set under dark brows, before looking suddenly at the hooded man.

'Leave,' he commands. 'You're dismissed for the night.'

I clench my stomach harder, holding to the connection, silently begging him not to leave. How did I end up with a soldier as my only potential ally? I try not to look at his back as he walks through the door and terror trembles my hands. His blanketing emotions that hide my fragile inner flame remain but I do not let the small relief show on my face. A small voice questions if holding on is a good idea. For all I know, that could be playing right into his hands, or the General's. Perhaps they are the same. But, even if it is a false hope, it is the only one I have.

'Stand,' the General commands.

I rise, not game to break eye contact and reveal even a whisper of the fear that is growing now we are alone. He steps toward me, a hand outstretched and I have a flash of memory of the burning pain that accompanies his touch. Stepping back, I knock into the chair I have just left. Its timber legs scraping against the stone as it moves slightly.

'What is your name?' he asks, dropping his arm back to his side.

'Alice,' I say, righting myself.

'That's your real name?'

I nod.

'You weren't known by anything else?'

I think of what my mum used to call me, but I won't give that over to him. The name the lady at the orphanage couldn't pronounce properly.

'No,' I say.

He nods slowly, a soft smile coming to his mouth. The purple, ringed eyes are a fraction less cold than I have seen them before. I remember, now, why Odhran's seemed familiar. They all have ringed eyes like the beggar. Perhaps the hooded man keeps his hidden because his are not.

The General takes another step towards me and, just like when he came close the first time I met him, I find my resolve to not back away again. He lifts his wine glass up and towards me.

'We should drink to our new arrangement,' he says, smiling.

I stare at him, unsure what I am supposed to do here.

He reaches out to touch the elbow of the arm that holds my drink and I try not to flinch. But there's no pain. Instead, he applies a gentle upwards pressure to direct my glass closer to his.

I take the not-so-subtle hint and clink my glass to his.

'To us,' he says.

My stomach turns.

'Let's sit.' This time he gestures to the large, plush chairs arranged around the fireplace, the window to my left. 'I'll be frank with you, Alice,' he says. 'I did not offer for you to stay simply out of the goodness of my heart.'

I try to school my features into something that doesn't betray my shock. Did he really think I thought he was being kind? I fight the urge to lower my barrier to try and read him. I don't know how many things I can do at once with my gift and letting go of the other man's calmness … I don't think I can.

'You don't know me very well, yet, but I would like to correct that.' He leans forward and reaches towards me, placing two fingers on my knee.

I stiffen.

His fingers move in a tiny circle on the dress, as if he's also captivated by the velvet. Bile rises in my throat.

'I asked you to stay because we are to be bonded.'

My brows lift.

'Bonded?' I hear myself ask and he smiles like this is a good reaction. A strand of his white hair falls around his face. The hint of lines around his eyes are just beginning to show.

'Yes,' he says. 'I know it is slightly more … unusual now for this to happen so quickly, but I feel like I have known you for a long time. I can't help but think we have been destined for this.'

I shake my head, blinking.

'I – I don't know what that means.'

He frowns. 'You said you'd stay, bonding just makes it official.'

'Oh,' I breathe.

Standing, he places his glass on the small table beside his chair. He takes my hand and pulls me with him. Everything in me wants to stop. To fight.

There's nothing about his purple, ringed eyes I trust.

But I remember how easily he drove that knife into Will. I'm too far from my cell to imagine I could run from him easily. My body starts to shake with the effort of staying this close to him. He rubs his neck, scratching something there before cupping my cheek. I swallow the acid in my mouth.

'We'll do wonderful things together,' he whispers as he leans in, his mouth approaching mine.

I shove him back. Hard. He crashes into his chair but straightens before I can blink, striking me with the back of his hand across my cheekbone, whipping my head to the side. I didn't even see him move back to me. My cheek stings and I lift my chin.

A white noise in my mind is getting louder. I had thought it was the result of being struck but it should be disappearing by now. Sweat breaks out on my palms and my knees shake below me. Flashes of that day clamour in my mind. My mother telling me to hide, smiling, the blackness, the blood that started to drip off the end of her nose onto the floor. And the sound, over and over. The sound of something smashing in her skull.

My vision starts to swim and I can't tell if it's the memories or happening now. I don't have any recollection of the General, but then, I didn't see any of their faces. Was he there? Did he do it? Does he know me? The sound in my ears is now at screaming pitch and I jam my hands against them to try and stop it; but it's coming from the inside. He grabs my shoulders and the searing pain shoots down my arms.

'That wasn't polite, Alice. I asked you to bond with me. The correct answer is “yes”.'

I shouldn't be able to hear his voice, I know I wouldn't be able to hear mine. Burning hands grip my face and I scream. Blindly, I grapple for the safety of the well of emotions inside me, it's all I have to hang on to. His fist slams into my stomach, doubling me over and I hit my head on something on the way down. I can't see what. He kicks me in the stomach before I'm yanked upright, my hands still desperately trying to stop the screaming in my ears as I'm pushed against what feels like the wall. My breathing comes hard, the wind knocked out of me, and he lands another blow to my torso. The room spins around me, blurring. He places both palms on my chest and my flesh burns. I expect to feel it dripping from me. Pain eddies around me, choking the breath from my lungs. The smell of burning fills my nose.

The time he touched me in the fire room felt like nothing compared to this. This actual searing of my skin.

'If you will not admit who you are and join me willingly, I will simply take you,' he says, pressing his molten hands harder into my skin. I struggle to understand. And then the tiny little flame I've been instinctively protecting slowly makes its way from under the blanket of the hooded man's emotions. Emotions that have thinned as if he's too far away to reach.

Gold flickers towards the General's hands.

I'm lying on the floor when I blink into painful consciousness. The General crouches over me, his long tan boots at my eye level. He's not touching me, but the white-hot burning remains on my skin and I whimper. The heat in my chest pulses through my body and I fight to remain conscious; the darkness at the edge of my vision tinges with purple.

The silver cloak the General wears tonight is pooled out behind him like moonlight. His eyes find mine and I refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking away even as my vision blurs.

'I'm sorry,' he says quietly. 'I just – she was everything. Instead,' he pauses and I close my eyes, my mind giving way to the tidal wave of pain, 'she wanted to run away with that human bastard and reduced me to this.'

He hoists me up.

'I don't want to hurt you, Alice,' he says. 'I never wanted to hurt her, either. But we will be bonded. Even if I have to keep bringing others in here, day after day, to show you what I will do until you agree … we will be bonded. I would suggest you do so before I have your friend brought back here, too.'

He drags me to the door, gently shoving me out and shutting it behind me.

On shaking legs, I stumble my way along the fire lit hallway, stunned I've left the General's room. That he let me walk away after that. My skin is on fire, nostrils filled with the scent of burning skin, fabric and hair. My laboured breath drags in my chest. I'm not sure where I'm going, I can only focus on moving away from the General. I need running water. If I can find my way back to the bathroom, the dirty bath water might still be there. I round a corner and collide with a solid figure. A soldier.

Please not Odhran, please not Odhran. Although even he might take pity on me, now. His face morphs into horror as he takes in my burns.

'Please, help me,' I whisper. 'I need—'

He reaches towards me and I flinch away. I can't bear the thought of being touched. I make to move past him, but he disappears down the hallway at a run. I try to follow but my body won't cooperate and I slide to the floor.

Out of the darkness, the man reappears, like an apparition. On his heels is the hooded man and I let myself feel a little flare of hope. He saved Will's life; he can stop my burning.

Wordlessly, I look up at him and wish I can't feel his overwhelming emotions when he looks at me. The concern and worry that's almost drowned out by his barely contained rage. I'd give anything to be able to turn them off. He slowly reaches his hands out and I try to scramble back, my head spinning and sweat from the pain dripping into my eyes.

'Lish,' he says in a low tone. I don't think he's used my name before, I didn't know he knew what it was. 'If I'm going to help you, I'm going to have to touch you. If you can walk, I don't have to do that just yet,' he continues, 'but I need to get you someplace else, and I will carry you if I must. Okay?'

I drag myself to my feet and take a hunched step towards him, my face and body screaming. He takes this as agreement enough and begins walking. He sets a fast pace and I push myself to keep up. The other man follows behind.

My mind is shifting, out of reach. All I can feel is burning.

Arriving at a narrow door, the hooded man thanks the other and asks him to remain outside. There is a small bed and I stumble towards it, suddenly desperate to lie down. The hooded man approaches, and I close my eyes, tired of fighting the waves of pain that try to suffocate me. The thick thread of emotions he gave me earlier is stronger again and I imagine wrapping myself in it, giving myself to the embrace and gradually my heart rate slows.

'I'm going to have to place my hands on your chest,' he says. I can't decipher what's in his voice.

He waits a beat for my subtle nod, and I hiss at the contact of skin on my burns. I don't need to look at myself to know I have two handprints there. The heat that radiates from his hands is excruciating at first, adding to the burning already in my skin. Pushing away the vision of those mauve eyes that feel as if they have burned not just my skin, but my soul, I give myself to the pain.

It hurts to open my eyes, so I don't. Breathing is hard and a sharp pain in my side says my ribs might be broken; but the blows to my stomach fill me with particular disquiet. It seems stupid now, but I'd dreamed of children once. I don't know how much my broken body will take and still be able to deliver on that dream. Tears gently make their way across my cheeks to the bed beneath me as I let it sink in that it doesn't matter how broken I am or not, I will now never have the opportunity to try.

The General will never let me go.

The familiar hum and crackle of the hooded man's energy brushes against my senses but I pay as little attention as I can to his emotions. He places his warm hands on my side. I can't help but sigh into the gentle touch, a sensation I didn't realise how much I'd missed. His fingers tense slightly on my skin.

'I'd wanted children once,' I whisper. His hands still before they resume their soft exploration of my different hurts. 'I imagine he will have made that impossible now.' I don't know why I say it, but I can't bring myself to be a stranger to this man. The one whose emotions I am learning like my own and bury myself in every day. The one whose face I don't know.

He draws a long breath.

'I will heal you as best I can … if you … want children …' His voice is quiet before he trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. The warmth of his hands is spreading through me like a gentle fire now, coaxing my little gold flame back to life as the pain starts to subside.

The laugh that escapes me is hollow.

'And whose shall I have? The General's?' I ask and he flinches at the loss and anger clear in my voice.

I give in to the darkness behind my eyes then and I dream, not of mauve eyes, but amber.

•

Pieces of conversation filter through to me and I grapple to hold onto the words that try to slip back out of my mind. Gradually, the hum of the hooded man's emotions returns to me, even before I've opened my eyes. The steady buzz along my skin when he's not trying to send me additional strength. Then it's more like a coil of rope. But neither are things I have felt before and I'm still not sure what to make of it. If I wasn't currently at the mercy of the General and the Whispers, I'd be more interested in finding out more about how this works. How there are others like me.

But, in my current circumstances, it doesn't seem particularly important.

' ... the fuck did this happen?'

'Best I can tell,' the young one says, 'it was going fine and something made him lose it.'

'Well, that's fucking obvious,' a prickle of anger reaches me. 'But why? He's normally so controlled.'

There's a pause and I concentrate on breathing, this room smells so different to my cell.

'He actually burnt her,' the hooded man says. 'Since when has he gone from painful touch to burning touch?'

I crack my eyes open and find the large man with his back to me, talking to the younger one. The one who has been part of my guard most nights. I let my eyes run back to the larger one, the breadth of his shoulders. How he takes up much of the space in the room. His dark hair.

He flicks the hood back on.

'I need—' he starts.

'He said he wanted to celebrate my staying,' I say, the hooded man whirling to me, 'and I shoved him.'

I push myself up to sit and all of sudden he's crouched in front of me, steadying me by my shoulders. My head spins slightly and I close my eyes again until it settles, breathing into the warmth his hands spread through my limbs.

Hesitantly, I brush my fingertips across my face and chest and both arms through the holes in the dress. The skin there is soft and raw but not textured as burn wounds would be. I blow out a breath slowly as I release the thread of the hooded man I'd somehow kept coiled in my gut even as consciousness failed me. The gentle hum that exists when he's near crackles in places along my bare arms.

'I'm okay,' I whisper and I feel him step back as I open my eyes again, dropping his hands from my shoulders.

'Well,' the young one says, 'I guess we know why he lost control.'

'We need to bring things forward,' the hooded man says, looking towards him. 'She can't stay here any longer.'

The other one nods slowly, clearly considering what needs to be brought forward and my heart leaps.

'Why would you help me?' I ask. 'What makes you so sure I won't give you both away?'

The hooded one turns slowly to me.

'Would you?' His voice is quiet but there's a lethality in it that sends a shiver down my spine.

I stare at him, where I imagine his eyes would be. But while what I say is important, I can tell by the sensation of him that he knows I never would.

'No.'

I watch his chest fall with his exhale.

'I need to go,' he says. 'Haryk will take you back. There's something I need to take care of.'

Haryk, I think. I smile. It's nice to know his name. I can't feel him like I can the hooded one so I've felt like I don't know him as well. Not having his name amplified this gap and now it's a tiny bit smaller.