Chapter 153

CLAUDIA.

I'm frozen in my spot and all I can do is stare at the face in front of me. I know it's Kiernan. I remember his features enough to be sure about it. The only thing stopping me from being fully sure is the fact that it's like a puzzle, and there are significantly huge missing pieces on his face.

He's... burned. That's the only way I can put it mildly. Patches of skin are missing from his face, and the rest is red and raw. It's like uncooked meat, oozing blood and pus in thin rivulets. One of his eyes has turned completely white as though his irises have been burned off. A chunk of his cheek is missing and now his teeth are exposed. There is not a single hair on his head now. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes are singed and gone.

I know that Achilles managed to subdue him back in the palace when they were left to square it out in the office, but I didn't know that this is the means he believed were necessary. I can't believe Kiernan was being bad enough to deserve this. I won't blame Achilles either, because I know he wouldn't resort to such a thing if he didn't think he needed to. And I believe that he thought Kiernan was dead. All of us did.

The fact that he is alive now is astounding. But not only that... it's more surprising that he's here in prison, not taken care of like he should be.

"Claudia," he manages to say in a raspy voice. He lets out a series of short breaths that might have been his version of a laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit that ends with him spitting blood. "I never thought I would see you again."

"I thought you were dead," I say before I can stop myself.

He laughs again, and this time it doesn't end with him bleeding. In fact, he even has the strength to get up and look at me. "I don't blame you for thinking that. Achilles really made sure that I won't try to hurt any of you again, and I have to say that he wins this round. I don't think I can try another plan to harm you. I don't think I can even move."

I know that Kiernan sounds like he's making fun of his own situation but I can see the pain in his eyes. Pain that comes not only from his injuries but also from his heart.

"He made sure of that," he keeps whispering, and now I don't know if he's referring to Achilles or Tristan.

Silence stretches between us as I think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. I just get ready in case his mood takes another swing and he decides to be deadly. But then the messy stinky blanket slides off him when he tries to move, and that’s when I see bolts stuck in his leg. They look like they have been hammered on there, slammed into place to prevent him from running away.

I point at them. “I doubt it was Achilles who did that to you.”

Kiernan follows my line of sight and tries to smile even though half of his face is already exposed. “Ah, those. You are correct. Those are indeed not from Achilles. Those are from Tristan, during the first few days I ran away from our pack and stayed here. He made sure I wasn’t going to go anywhere, so he put metal bolts in my legs to make it harder to walk.”

Even though he tried to kill us multiple times, my heart still broke for him at that moment.

“Well, that’s not a good way to live, isn’t it?” I gesture at him, all over his face and his body. “This is not a good way to live at all. You should be getting treatment right now, not rotting in a cell with the enemies, with the experiments. After all, you made it all happen. You were the one who put this whole thing together.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a low voice, then he hacks up a laugh again. “This was all me. This was my creation. Everything is my fault….”

His face contorts with emotion and all I can do is stare in horror and wait for him to speak again.

Soon enough, he composes himself just right to keep talking. “It’s me. You’re right about that. But the thing is, I used to work on dead people. I used to take corpses and try to… use them to make something bigger and alive. That’s why the Rogue King dummy looked like that. I used up different parts of dead people to make him. But Tristan wasn’t satisfied. The Great Leader is never satisfied. He said that if that thing is to become what our army looks like, then he might as well stop the revolution because we don’t stand a chance. All the other Rogues from the start of the war two years ago are made that way: from corpses. They are basically zombies. I saw his point, of course. Those Rogues were indeed disposable.”

Kiernan stops, and all I can do is stare at him in complete disbelief.

“That’s evil,” I whisper. “That is pure and utter evil….”

He looks at me dryly. “It’s science. It’s just how it worked. I was not harming anyone, as far as I know. But this whole thing about using live real people… I didn’t know. When I formulated that potion, I had no idea that he would use it on people who are still alive. Who have lives. It hurt me. It still hurts me. So I told him, as soon as I crawled my way back from the palace.”

“And he ditched you,” I predict. He doesn’t say anything, which tells me all I need to know. “You told him that he was crossing a line that you didn’t agree to, and he ditched you, just like that. I have to say that I’m impressed. Is it all worth it? Was betraying your best friend worth it?”

He doesn’t say anything.

I don’t want to rub salt on the wound but he needs to hear it. He needs to know that he didn’t think this through and he brought this on himself.

“You thought it would be something great, I know,” I say. “But you didn’t think you were as disposable as the Rogues you made and now—”

“I’m sorry.”

I stop. Kiernan looks up at me and I see tears in his eyes.

Seeing it makes me freeze. The first instinct I get is to comfort him, but I push it down, remembering how he hurt me and my son. I would never forgive him for that. For all I know, this could also be a lie.

But looking at him closely, I realize that it’s all genuine.

“I’m sorry for everything.” A dry sob crawls up his throat but he takes a deep breath to compose himself. “You’re right. It was not worth it at all. I think the reason why he put this in my legs is because he knew I was still thinking about coming back to Achilles. He could tell that I missed the life I had. He knew I was longing for the same kind of happiness long before I realized it myself.”

I can’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. I just stare at him as he tries to get up. To my surprise, he still seems pretty agile despite having every inch of his skin burned off and oozing pus. There is determination in his eyes.

He puts a hand on the cell door.

“It doesn’t matter now,” he whispers to himself.

“Why?” I retort, also getting to my feet. “Because we’re going to get stuck here?”

“No. Because I’m going to help you out of here. And we’re going to free these people.”