Tasteful Darkness

Chapter 42

Balendin - Now

I freeze, fear ripping up my back and cracking against the back of my head so suddenly I nearly stumble. Adrian reaches out to grab me, but I stop them by throwing out a hand.

"I'm fine," I manage to say, though I am far from it.

"I think you should continue on alone," Adrian says. "I will stay here and keep watch."

I nod, my voice caught in my throat. "Right." I go to leave, but Adrian catches me by the arm.

"Balendin," they say carefully, "do not forget that he is no longer human. He may not even realize he is dead."

I look at them. "He may be dead, but he is still Peter."

They release me. "I will keep watch."

"You shouldn't stay here, Adrian," I say. "If the Creator realizes you are here, they will throw you back in the River."

"I will not leave until you two are back in the Overworld."

"Adrian—" I cut myself off before I can tell them it's not possible. "Fine."

I look back towards the source of the noise and straighten my posture before walking forward and leaving Adrian behind me.

The feeling in my chest is still there, leading me forward. It doesn't take me very long to reach a set of two doors carved from the same substance as the cliffs that surround my faction of the Underworld.

My hand slides across the smooth exterior and I push it open and step inside. It swings open to reveal nothing but a pitch black room. My eyes adjust and I see a form in front of me. When I take another step forward, dark red flames flicker to life on the walls.

My eyes widen.

"Peter," I whisper.

He is on his knees in the center of the room. Both his arms are raised high above his head by long, heavy chains attached to his wrists. His upper body is bare and I can see the familiar markings of his body. The designs that swirl across his skin—the same skin that will lose its life as he spends more and more time here.

His head hangs low, his hair covering his face. Even though it's his soul, he couldn't look more human.

I don't make a noise as I stumble forward, crumpling to my knees in front of him. He stirs at the sound of me and lifts up his face.

My body goes frigid.

His eyes are vacant, and a cold feeling rushes through me as I look at him. The color that used to be in his eyes is now black, and it's just a matter of time until they fade away entirely and leave two empty pits.

I don't hesitate. I reach up and grab one of the chains, splitting it in two with my bare hands. I do the same with the other, and Peter collapses into my arms. The moment he touches my guard form, he rips himself away and falls to the floor. He heaves out a breath and forces himself to his knees.

"Who are you?" he says, his voice the quietest I've ever heard. "What are you going to do to me?"

"Peter," I whisper.

He flinches at the sound of my voice. His reaction break something inside me.

"Peter—" I try again.

"Stop it," he snaps. "If you're going to end me, do it without forcing me to hear your horrid voice."

He clutches his head, muttering things to himself.

I think back to Adrian and how he warned me not to let my emotions ruin me, but it's nearly impossible not to let the hurt leach into my voice.

Would Peter knowing who I am do any good?