Never Yours ✔️

Ch. 10

Her head lifted as she heard him begin to move. For the remainder of the night he'd only sat in the armchair beneath the window, scribbling in a notebook, his eyes lifting to her every so often. From the look in his eyes, he didn't seem capable of sleep. Neither was she.

"Where are you going?" Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. The left side of her face erupted in pain when she spoke and her words came out in a croak, but her eyes fixed on him as he stilled.

His eyes flit to the window, where the first touches of dawn broke through the curtains.

"It's time for the prince to be brought before the king for judgement."

He picked up his cloak off the back of the chair and swung it over his shoulders. Arysa grit her teeth as she tried to pick herself up off the bed. He turned to her sharply.

"What are you doing? Lie back down." He hissed. "You're going to hurt yourself."

She fixed him with a cold glare. "I'm not letting you spread lies about him. You're going to tell the court he did this to me. I won't let you."

He just laughed, his boots thundering in her ears as he made his way towards her. "You can't stop me." He sneered. "You can't even get out of bed."

She pressed her palm into the bed, cradling her injured arm to her chest as she pulled her legs up underneath her. His cold fingers gripped her bare shoulder tightly and she tensed.

"You're going to open the wounds on your back. Stop, Arysa. You can't do anything."

She looked up at him through her tangled, greasy hair. "I can't let you do this. I can't let you do this to him. I can't."

His hard glare softened and he gently tucked her hair behind her ear, but he said nothing. And the soft frown on his lips did not stop him from stepping away.

"No—no—" She lurched forward and grabbed onto his arm. "Serden, don't—please—you can't—"

He tugged her fingers off his arm and pushed her back to the bed. Arysa grabbed onto the blankets and held them to her chest. She bit the insides of her cheeks and placed her feet on the cold floor, but when she pushed to stand, a searing pain tore through her back like her very bones were splitting open. She screamed and her eyes rolled back as she crumpled. Serden jumped towards her and caught her gently in his arms. Tears burned her cheeks and she choked on her sobs and frustration.

"Arysa," He murmured, "you can't."

He laid her back down on the bed and took her wrists in his hands. She looked up at him, blurry through her tears, just as shackles clamped around her forearms. Her breath caught in her chest and she looked down, disbelief spinning through her. She tugged at the chains, dismay leaving her breathless when the chain hooked to the shackles clanked against the bedpost.

"No—no—you—" Her head lifted to him. He stared at her, empty, as he backed towards the door. "How could you—no—no, you can't—you can't—"

He turned to the door.

"Stop! No—Serden—no—!"

He lifted the hood over his inky locks and slid through the door. Her heart pitched.

"No! Serden!" She yanked desperately at the chains. "Serden!"

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Pain enveloped her. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She clutched at her chest. The cold sank deep inside her. The shackles dug into her skin, still bruised from the massacre. The memories were still fresh, the pain, the shock, the horror. Fire flared through her back, through her face, through her arm.