Chapter 111 Secret Exposed
Through the bond, an explosion of dizzying, blinding agony ripped through my own skull. I gasped, my vision swimming with black spots, the phantom pain dropping me to my knees. The remaining guard didn't bother to hold me up; he let me fall, my hands hitting the cold floor to catch my weight.
"Fascinating," the Emperor whispered.
I looked up through the curtain of my messy dark hair. The Emperor was standing at the bottom of the dais, his blind eyes fixed on me. He wasn't angry that Klaus had attacked his guard. He was thrilled.
"The texts spoke of a two-way street of suffering," the Emperor mused, gliding slowly toward where Klaus lay bleeding on the marble. "But to see it in practice... to witness the tether reacting in real-time. It is a marvel of ancient magic."
"Don't touch him," I croaked, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the pristine floor.
The Emperor ignored me. He stood over Klaus. He nudged Klaus’s bare shoulder with the toe of his velvet slipper. Klaus groaned, shifting weakly, his strength entirely sapped by the blow and the collar.
"Commander Thorne," the Emperor said softly. "Draw your blade."
Thorne unsheathed a long, jagged hunting knife from his belt. The steel gleamed in the sickly yellow light.
"Make a shallow cut across the Admiral's right shoulder," the Emperor ordered. "Nothing fatal. Just enough to part the muscle."
"No!" I screamed, struggling wildly against the floor, but the guard stepped on the hem of my heavy skirt, pinning me down.
Thorne knelt beside Klaus. He grabbed Klaus’s shoulder to steady him, placed the jagged edge of the blade against the pale, unscarred skin, and pulled.
The blade sliced cleanly through the flesh. Silver blood welled up instantly, spilling over the dark iron chains wrapped around Klaus’s chest.
Klaus didn't make a sound. He clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut, swallowing the pain.
But he couldn't hide it from the bond.
A sharp, searing line of white-hot fire erupted across my own right shoulder. It was so intense, so brutally real, that my body reacted instinctively. I screamed, my back arching violently as I clutched my own shoulder. My fingers dug into the thick grey wool of my dress, expecting to find torn flesh and warm blood, but the fabric was perfectly intact. The skin beneath was smooth.
The pain was a ghost, but the agony was entirely real.
I collapsed onto my side, panting, tears streaming down my face as the burning sensation slowly dulled into a deep, throbbing ache.
The Throne Room was dead silent. Every vampire in the gallery was staring at me, their red eyes wide with a mixture of horror and scientific curiosity.
"It is perfect," the Emperor breathed, a wide, grotesque smile stretching his skeletal face. He clapped his bony hands together. "The blood-bond is absolute. They share the rot, they share the cure, and they share the blade."
He turned away from Klaus and glided toward the large, ornate object sitting to the left of the dais.
The gilded cage.
It was constructed of solid gold bars, standing ten feet tall and six feet wide. The door hung open on silent hinges, revealing a plush, dark red velvet cushion covering the floor inside. It was a beautiful, meticulously crafted prison designed for a songbird.
"Put the Witch in the cage," the Emperor commanded.
Two guards hauled me off the marble floor by my arms. I fought them, kicking wildly, my bare feet slipping on Klaus's silver blood.
"Klaus!" I shrieked, twisting my torso, trying to break their crushing grip.
Klaus forced himself up onto his hands and knees. The silver blood dripped from his shoulder, mixing with the red blood from his face. He looked at me, his sapphire eyes burning with a helpless, devastated fury.
Do not fight them, his voice echoed weakly in my mind, a frantic whisper pushed through the stifling void of the iron collar. They will break your bones, Nerissa. Please. Just yield.
I stopped kicking. A ragged, defeated sob tore from my throat. I let my legs go limp, forcing the guards to drag my dead weight across the floor.
They hauled me to the gilded cage and threw me inside.
I hit the velvet cushion hard, scraping my elbows. Before I could scramble back up, the heavy gold door slammed shut. A massive iron padlock was threaded through the bars.
I grabbed the cold gold bars, pressing my bruised face against the metal.
Klaus was still kneeling on the floor, surrounded by Thorne and his men. He looked so small from inside the cage, a broken, bleeding man stripped of everything but his chains.
"You see, my court," the Emperor announced, turning to face the gallery. He threw his arms wide. "The Siren thought she could hold the ocean hostage. She thought she could sit in her tower and starve us of her magic while our ships dissolved in the black sludge."
The Emperor walked slowly back to his ivory throne and sat down, resting his chin on his bony hand.
"But she has given us the perfect leverage," he smiled. His blind eyes stared directly at the gilded cage. "She loves the traitor. She feels his every cut. His every bruise. She will feel his slow, agonizing death."
The Emperor leaned back, his voice dropping to a terrifying, absolute calm.
"Lock the Admiral in the Abyssal Dungeon," the Emperor ordered Thorne. "Give him no water. Give him no blood. Let the curse eat him from the inside out."
Thorne grabbed the heavy chain attached to Klaus’s collar and yanked hard. Klaus stumbled to his feet, swaying dangerously.
"No!" I screamed, shaking the gold bars of my cage until my hands bled. "You can't do this! I'll sing! I will sing for you, just let him go!"
"Oh, you will sing, little fish," the Emperor purred, ignoring my desperate tears. "But you will not sing today. Today, you will sit in your beautiful cage. You will feel him starving in the dark. You will feel the black rot consuming his heart."