Shattered Chains

Shattered Chains
Chapter 20

Shattered Chains

The night before the New Dawn Ceremony was shrouded in a stillness that settled oppressively on Mira's skin. She sat at the side of the stone bed, her gaze held by the red robe laid out in front of her, the fabric radiating softly in the light from the torches. Its color reminded her of freshly spilled blood, of sacrifice, of chains disguised as honor. Kael had promised her that tomorrow she would wear it proudly, stand beside him, present the unborn child as a witness to his rule. 

Every stitch in that dress was a hangman's noose.

She placed her trembling hands upon her belly, whispering to the child within, "I'll find a way… I won't let him claim you." But even as she spoke, fear encircled her heart. The stronghold was safe, guarded by Kael's most loyal men. Liberty was a dream too fragile to hold onto.

The door creaked open and Kael stepped inside, dressed in black with silver accents. His presence dominated the room. He regarded the cloth, and then regarded her, and his lips curled into that cold smile that she grew to be afraid of.

"You will be lovely tomorrow," he said. "The pack will see and realize that fate itself kneels to me."

Mira turned her head away, couldn't conceal the disgust twisting in her chest. She had endured his insults, his fates, his wicked schemes—but what gnawed at her most was his arrogance. He believed he was better than.

Kael moved closer, kneeling beside her, his hand reaching to brush her cheek. "Don't be so stern, Mira. You are no captive, but a queen alongside me."

She gasped for breath, and before she could edit herself, the words tumbled out: "A queen who never chose you. A queen who despises every moment she draws breath beneath your roof."

The air turned chilly. His hand froze, then went limp into a fist before he pulled it back. His jaw clenched tighter, and fire danced in his eyes. For a moment, Mira thought he would strike her, but instead he let out a harsh laugh that sounded nastily off the walls.

"Yet still rebellious," he whispered, standing tall. "Good. The pack will respect your strength. They'll know me to be the only one powerful enough to shatter it."

He left with those words, sweeping out of the room as though her pain was but another tool in his play. The door clanged shut and the resulting silence was more than any scream.

Mira stayed there hours later, overwhelmed, anger and despair wrestling in her breast. She was on the verge of lashing out at something, tearing the scarlet robe to shreds. But she forced herself to stand still, because anger would give him what he desired. She had to survive. For herself. For the child. For Selene, somewhere out there.

Hours dragged. The torches were burning low. Sleep never came. Lastly, no longer able to stand the stifling room, Mira pushed herself up. Guards outside were usually sloppy at the late hours of the night, confident no one could escape Kael's fortress.

She moved to the door, her ear pressed against the wood. She heard nothing. Quietly, she pushed it open and moved into the corridor, her pounding heart beating so loudly it almost could not be ignored.

The corridors were dark, with only the soft light of faraway torches illuminating her way. She was moving quietly, every step carefully planned, skirting around the areas where the stone floor groaned. She had no place to go, only the urgent need to fill her lungs with air that did not have Kael's scent.

As she passed by one of the corridors, faint sounds came to her ears—a gentle murmur, a laugh, a sigh. She hesitated, curious in spite of the fear. Slowly, she faced the direction and headed towards the sound. It directed her towards one of the side rooms, the door a little ajar.

Mira hesitated, every part of her telling her to pull back. But something in the sound of Kael's voice—low and playful and nearly intimate—kept her going. She brought her eye up against the gap between jamb and door, and what she saw took the breath from her.

Kael himself stood in the room, his broad form dwarfed by the shadows cast by the torches. Before him, one of the servants—a quivering young woman with trembling fingers—looked up at him in fear and whatever emotion Mira couldn't quite place. Kael's hand rested under the servant's chin, lifting her face to his. His voice was a purr, packed with the same insincere soothing he'd used on Mira far too often.

"You please well," he said to him, tracing his fingers along the servant's throat. "Loyalty must be rewarded. And I will be seen by the world tomorrow as a god. But tonight. I will do what I please."

The servant shook, torn between fear and the perilous allure of his power. Mira's stomach revolted, acid burning her way to the back of her throat. She longed to rip the door wide open, shout, rip at his face until he was spattered with blood. But she froze, locked into stillness by shock and rage.

This was the man who crowned her queen. The man who had promised her that she was destiny's choice. And here he was now, seconds away from ordering her to stand by him at the wedding, digging his claws into another and discarding Mira's body, her child, her soul as nothing more than pawns to further his rise to power.

Her chest tightened, pain lancing across her ribs. She recalled her father, the pride Kael had defiled. She recalled Selene, the manner in which she clung yet to strength, to hope. And she recalled the child she bore, the destiny Kael sought to entwine with his brutality.

Mira bit hard on her lip to suppress the sob trying to force its way out. Her eyes stung with tears as Kael rested his head, his mouth against the servant's neck, his arms around her as if she was already his. The whimper-gasp noise the servant made made Mira's gut twist.

Her own eyes teared up, unfocusing her vision, but she wrestled herself back from the door. She could no longer bear another moment. She staggered down the hall, her gasps shallow, her heart ready to tear itself in two.

Mira was shaking unstoppably by the time she reached her room, her hand covering her mouth as she tried to muffle the scream rising up through her. She collapsed onto the bed, curling protectively around her stomach as the sobs finally broke out.

Kael had humiliated her so many times before, but this—this treason—hurt the most. Not that she desired him, but because it revealed to her the awful truth she had feared all along: she meant nothing to him. Nothing but a receptacle, an icon, a plaything to his desire for control.

Her tears moistened the pillow as her whispers echoed through the air. "He will fall. He has to fall. Selene, Ronan, Adrian… someone, please. Before tomorrow. Before he destroys it all."

Outside of her room, the fortress was quiet, but Mira now knew the reality. Kael's power was not built on fate. It was built on deception, on starvation, on treachery.

And tomorrow, when the world looked to him as Alpha of a new dawn, she would carry the knowledge of his uncleanness in her heart like a hot coal.

Her sorrow slowly, painfully, hardened into resolve.

But even as she clung to that frail strength, one truth carved itself into her heart: Kael was no god. He was a beast, and beasts bled.

She hoped she would live long enough to see it happen.