Destined for Deception ✔️

Chapter 23

Either Cerise had lost her mind somewhere over the past fifteen years, or Jade had never really known her.

In Jade's memory, Cerise was, well, not a nice person, not nearly, but she wasn't an insane, murderous abuser without conscience either. She was strict, no-nonsense, distant, but also funny, protective, a safe haven. She had loved Corbin – of that Jade was sure. You couldn't fake that kind of connection. Cerise had loved her father, and she had loved her children. If there were two things that Jade had never doubted, those were it. But perhaps she was wrong. Surely someone who could hand over her fated mate to his archnemesis, and someone who could decide to murder her own daughter and grandchild, someone like that didn't know what love was.

There had been no affection, no hint of lingering attachment in Cerise's eyes when she told Jade she was going to kill her. She said it as easily as though she announced she was going to take a walk. Had Mikayla not been there, Jade didn't doubt for a second that she would've been dead right now, and her child with her.

Her fingers probed her stomach, hoping to be able to tell somehow whether the little sprout inside was holding up alright. What if Cerise's kick had hurt it? What if, Goddess forbid, it had died?

"How do you feel?"

Jade hadn't noticed Mikayla entering the room. She was standing in front of the cell, regarding Jade with intense scrutiny.

"I'm alive," Jade said. "That's something, I guess."

"And the baby?"

"Hard to tell." Jade knew how to judge her child's wellbeing by listening to the impulses it gave off, and she knew it by asking Everlee to check, but she didn't know how to listen to her own body to tell her. She had never had to rely on such primitive methods before.

Mikayla nodded. She crouched down and placed a cup of water through the bars on the ground, carefully place a chunk of bread on top of it. She got back up and wiped her hands on her trousers. "It's not much, but Cerise would have you starve, and it's better than that, at least."

Goddess, she was thirsty. Jade struggled to her feet and half walked, half limped, to the other side of the cell. Once there, she dropped herself back down, too tired to keep herself upright. She took the cup in trembling hands and drank, trying to pace herself, though that was hard with how dehydrated she was.

"Thank you," she said, looking up at Mikayla.

"It's just some water. Just don't tell Cerise. Well, not that she won't find out anyway."

"I meant for yesterday, too. I'm pretty sure Cerise would have killed me if you hadn't stopped her."

"Don't thank me. I did try to kill you once before, remember? I am not exactly a saviour."

"You didn't kill me, though," Jade said. "You could have. You had plenty of arrows left, and I wasn't going anywhere. You stopped."

Mikayla shook her head and ran a hand through her fiery red locks. A memory stirred inside Jade, but she couldn't place it yet.

"Cerise wanted you to suffer before you died. That's why the arrows were silvered. I wasn't allowed to give you a quick death. That's why I stopped."

Jade wasn't sure she believed it. That is: she believed without hesitation that Cerise wanted her to die an agonising death, but there had been something about Mikayla when she aimed that last arrow. Something too closely resembling remorse or mercy to be simply cruelty or a blind following of orders. She didn't press the issue, though. It wasn't like it mattered now. Mikayla couldn't save her from Cerise's ill intentions, not even if she wanted to.