Blood Oath (The Darkest Drae Book 1)(16)

“Captain,” the Drae said, face blank.

A distant part of my mind registered there were others here, that they were talking. I even saw droplets on the burly soldier’s sword, the blood of one of my neighbors, I assumed. But that was all in the periphery, for my gaze was on my mother, my wheezing, crying, strong mother. She didn’t look strong now, and as I stared at her, I knew all the other happy times I’d shared with her would be erased and replaced by this one searing image.

A pain impaled my chest, and a scream worked its way up my throat. Lord Irrik released me, and I scrambled to my mother, dropping to my knees on the stone floor. My hands hovered, unsure where to touch. Her chest was heaving, and shallow gasps of air escaped her lips. She blinked, and a large tear trickled into her dark hair.

“Mother,” I mouthed, unblinking.

“Must . . . go,” she wheezed, but the fear in her eyes said she knew it was too late for me to run.

The worst thing was a part of me felt I was watching a stranger die. Who was this woman who didn’t fear the Drae and could shove a dagger into herself? She had clearly concealed . . . so many . . . huge things from me.

The heaviness of hopelessness swept through me as her breath began to rattle.

“I’m sorry, Mum. Please.” I wanted so much for her to know just how sorry I was. Sorry for not being careful enough on the walk home, sorry for getting caught by Irrik, and so sorry for leading trouble straight to our doorstep.

“Please,” I cried out. “Please,” I begged, to no one, anyone, to the nameless, make believe person who could save her.

“Who is this?” the soldier behind me asked. “Is this our little renegade?”

I reached to stroke Mother’s hair. Her long, cinnamon-brown hair just like my own.

Lord Irrik snorted and pulled me away from my mother. And like a worthless piece of lint, he tossed me across the room. “Stupid girl.”

I slammed into the wall above my bed, this time on my left side, and pain exploded in my ribs in a burst of blinding white. My hatred ballooned for this . . . monster. This unfeeling, horrible monster.

Revulsion tore through me, but it wasn’t enough. It needed an outlet. I needed to hurt him. I rolled off the bed, clutching my sides, and the room blurred as the blood drained from my face. Loathing sharpened my vision, and I lifted my chin only for my heart to stall.

Irrik had his back to me now. His boot on top of the blade in my mother’s chest. Mum was facing me, the peace in her eyes at odds to the turmoil and rage in the room.

“Baby,” she mouthed.

Mother, I answered her silently.

“This was the one you were meant to follow,” Irrik said as he pushed down on the hilt with his boot.

My mother’s body jerked before the spark in her eyes went from dazed awareness, to acknowledgement, to acceptance. The spark became smaller.

Smaller and duller.

“No,” I screamed, throwing myself at the Drae. We crashed into a heap on the ground, and I drew back my fist, punching him as hard as I could on the chin. I couldn’t have been the only one surprised when his head snapped back in response. His gaze returned to me, an intensity in his eyes as he stared at me.

“I hate you,” I whispered.

I slid off him and crawled to Mum, even though I could see she wasn’t there anymore. I closed my eyes, tears streaming down my cheeks, and opened them to find her still dead.

Blood saturated her tunic. She stared vacantly at my room’s ceiling. She was . . . extinguished.

Gone.

But my mind couldn’t make sense of this fact or of the sight of her.

Someone lifted me to my feet, and I struggled to free myself from his grasp. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“I’m not leaving,” I snarled. Just try to take me away. I’d never wanted to hurt someone more than in this moment.

“Throw her on the street,” Irrik snapped as he brushed a speck of Mum’s blood off his aketon. The Drae radiated anger and disgust, and he didn’t look at me whatsoever. His tone was a haughty command. “She’s upset about her mother, an ignorant child. I won’t be wasting our resources—”

“She attacked you, sir. It is an unpardonable offense,” the captain countered, stepping up to the guard holding me. The captain grabbed my chin and squeezed until the pain elicited a whimper. “I’d think you would be happy to dispose of her, Lord Irrik. After all, she is the daughter of an insurgent. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, so they say.”

I couldn’t look at the Drae. I couldn’t look at the person who had kicked a dagger into my mother’s dying heart. A scorching abhorrence bubbled up, filling my chest and pushing up my neck, and I couldn’t keep my anger contained. I flung the vilest insults and obscenities at Lord Irrik, needing him to know how much I loathed him.

The captain slapped me. Hard. His hand connected with my face with a sharp crack that made white spots erupt in my vision. I slumped in the guard’s arms, head stabbing with pain and vision blurring.

“There’s no challenge in disposing of one so weak,” Irrik said to the captain. “She’ll die during the cold season, and I like the thought of a drawn-out death for her.” He stared at me, pointed at mother’s body, and said, “We’ll have someone collect the body to take to the king. I have reason to believe she was high up in the rebellion, so leave her to rot for a day or two. Let the Zone find her so word will spread. He’ll be pleased.”