Private Tales The Price of Defiance

[Sadie]

Sadie woke slowly this time. It felt like she was clawing her way from deep in the ocean. Her head throbbed in time with her pulse and the room swam in and out of focus for several minutes before stabilizing. It was dim now- candlelight, not sunlight, and the air smelled faintly like metal and something herbal.

She tried to sit up, limbs heavy and her body sluggish. Something tugged at the crook of her arm, but it wasn't metal from the bindings she bore earlier. She hissed, looking down at the fresh bandage there, pristine white stained by dark red in the center.

"What did you do?" She questioned aloud. Cinna from the corner moved closer, gliding like a long-limbed spectre into the light. Her expression was infuriatingly calm, maybe even pleasant, as if she had been waiting for the moment Sadie would wake.

"Good, you're awake now."

Sadie's fingers curled into the blanket on her lap. "I asked what you did to me.."

"Nothing you won't recover from. Relax." Cinna explained smoothly, crouching so that she was eye-to-eye with Sadie. The glow of her bluish skin looked almost luminous in the candlelight. "We needed to know how dangerous you are to Nikolai. We tested your blood."

Sadie's stomach twisted. "Tested it..how?"

Cinna's smile widened, but there was no kindness in it. Only that madness she first displayed when barging into Nikolai's room. "We fed it to a variety of things. Fae beasts, lesser sprites, a few old familiars that were on their way out anyway. It killed all of them." She tsk'd thoughtfully. "Every last one. It was almost instantaneous in most, but slower with others. Painful in a few cases."

Sadie's breath caught in her throat, her hand lingered over the bandage. "You-"

"You should know, too." Cinna cut her off, tone sharp. "Whatever you are, whatever you are becoming, whatever magic is knitting itself into your being, it is not benign. It is not gentle. It's a miracle it didn't kill Nikolai. Lover's bond and all of that..." She rolled her eyes. "Won't let you harm a mate, though we aren't sure if it kills any Ail'Thain. Bit too hard to track down their kind, and I don't want to deal with Whorew- Morrwyn if she somehow senses that you are alive."

Sadie stared at her, hollow and furious all at once. "And tying me up was part of this?"

Cinna laughed, tilting her head. "Would you have let us try it otherwise?" Sadie had no answer for that. She turned to face away, pressing her lips together tightly, eyes burning with tears she wouldn't let fall. But Cinna straightened, the detached smile back in place. "Rest, little Ilith. We've learned what we needed today. That is enough for now.."

But Sadie's hand shot out, clutching Cinna's wrist before she could turn away, grip surprisingly strong for how groggy she still felt. "You don't just get to walk away." She said, voice raw and trembling, something close to range and panic brewing beneath the surface. "You drugged me, tied me up, cut into me like I was some sort of experiment.."

Cinna arched a blue brow, unbothered by the accusation. "You are dangerous."

Sadie's nails bit into the fae woman's skin. "Then answer me. How many?"

"How many what?" Cinna's smile slipped, just slightly.

Sadie swallowed hard, staring at the bandage on her arm. "How many of...how many people like me have there been? How many did he..." Her voice cracked, but she forced it out anyway, suddenly feeling small, insecure. "...kill?"

For a long beat, Cinna only studied her. And then quietly, "Hundreds."

Sadie's stomach dropped.

"Perhaps more if those scrolls were true. He never did teach me enough of the language to read them well on my own, but you know once he read them, he never forgot a thing on the page. He may destroy every account of you, but that doesn't mean he has lost the memories." Her tone turned clinical again, but her gaze was careful as she watched for Sadie's reaction. "Most killed never made it past infancy. Those that did, well.. I suppose there is no confirmation, but he stated that those who wield the nightmares lose control quickly. Bad tempers. Their creations have consumed villages, but Nikolai has been there to put a swift end to it."

Sadie felt sick. The scrolls she had translated came back to her in pieces. Sketches of ruined circles, lists of dead children, bloodlines traced to nothing but ashes. "Why me? Why am I still alive?"

Cinna's mouth twitched. "If you ask me, I think the gods got sick of him interfering. They trapped you with a bond that wouldn't allow him to kill you..no matter how hard he tried. Apparently fate would like to make things interesting this time around."

Sadie's head dropped forward, feeling the tears that she had fought back falling down her cheeks, onto the bed. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't wish to bear the title you've given me-"

"That fate has given you!" Cinna interjected.

"I don't want to fulfill this prophecy."

Cinna tilted her head as Sadie released her, telling her to get out. She didn't argue, she only straightened, dusted her hands on her skirts and said softly, "Pray you stay this way, little Ilith."

 

[Nikolai]

Time blurred until it meant nothing. The moon waxed and waned, snow fell and melted, and Nikolai left a trail of corpses that would stain the Winter Court’s soil for seasons to come.

Eluin had broken after three days. The sound of his begging had been… satisfying, though Nikolai had silenced him long before he was done playing. He had taken his heart in one brutal rip and burned it to ash with his own magic before setting his sights on the next name.

Ansel. Mattias. Ruben. Evangeline. Atticus.
One by one they fell. One by one he made sure there was no trace of them left for Morrwyn to find, not even their bones.

Some he found easily, others took him days and weeks to track down, his shadow-form slipping through every crevice and alley, through forests and courts, until there was nowhere left for them to run. They all begged in the end. It didn’t matter. He didn’t hesitate.

But with every kill, his hunger deepened.

At first he only fed when necessary, taking just enough to keep his head clear. But soon his restraint frayed. Every heartbeat he heard made his fangs ache, every scent of blood drove him closer to madness. Sadie’s taste still haunted him, warm and golden, sweeter than any blood he’d ever known.

And so he fed.

He took what he wanted from strangers, from criminals, from anyone foolish enough to cross his path. He left husks in back alleys, burned bodies in the woods, shadows covering his tracks. He told himself it was necessary. He had to be strong. He had to protect her.

But sometimes, when the rush faded and his hands were still sticky with blood, he knew he was lost..

---

Now, in the cold heart of the Winter Court, he stood in yet another filthy alley, breath misting in the air, staring down at the twitching body of the male he had just fed from. His hunger was quiet for now, the world sharp and crystalline around him. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and swayed slightly.

He didn’t hear the first crossbow snap until it was too late.

The bolt hit him square in the chest, driving through flesh and muscle with a sound that was more wet than he liked. Pain roared through him, bright and electric, as the scent hit his nose, ash and iron.

His shadows recoiled violently, writhing away from the metal as smoke curled from the wound. He staggered, one hand going to the bolt, the other braced against the stone wall as he snarled through clenched teeth.

Another bolt whistled past, grazing his arm, embedding itself in the wall behind him.

They were here for him.
Not thieves. Not strangers.

Hunters. He had drawn too much attention, and that was another problem...

He felt their presence before he saw them, half a dozen figures emerging from the darkness at the mouth of the alley, weapons gleaming faintly in the moonlight. His vision blurred at the edges, rage swelling, hunger roaring back to life in his chest.

Nikolai wrapped clawed fingers around the bolt in his chest and ripped it free with a guttural snarl, his blood hissing where it hit the frozen ground. The wound smoked but did not close. His shadows shuddered violently, and he bared his teeth.

“Fine,” he rasped, voice low and feral, crimson eyes burning in the dark.

“Come, then.”

 

[Sadie]

Cinna stood before Sadie in the courtyard, releasing an exaggerated sigh as she looked down on the winged woman. One brow was arched as she crossed her arms. "You want answers for everything. Here it is. You are too soft. Too soft. Your head lives in books and scrolls and stories when it should be learning how to survive."

Sadie bristled, rising to her feet. "Survive? I have survived. You think I don't know what it's like to run?"

"Not run. Fight." Cinna's tone was sharp as always, but her expression shifted slightly, eyes drawn to something far away. A vision only she could see. "You will rely too much on Nikolai, on that bond you share. He wasn't here and both Cyra and I managed to tie you down. You let us, when you could have brought the whole house down with that dark magic you hide. You have power, girl. But you lack the fight."

Cyra, who had been leaning silently against the wall until then stepped forward. "She means you don't have control of yourself. The creatures you've made so far? What good are they if they run off the moment you conjure them into existence?"

Sadie gritted her teeth. She hated to admit that they were right. But she would give them this. Just once. "So what, you want to train me like one of Nikolai's pets? Teach me to be a weapon for him to use?"

Cinna's grin was sharp, humorless. "No. We are going to teach you, so that the next time you get cornered, you don't have to call for him at all."

Sadie swallowed hard, pulse hammering, but she nodded.

"Good." Cinna glanced at Cyra, who was already rolling her shoulders like she had been waiting for this. "You'll start tomorrow morning. Cyra's better with pyromancy and.. discipline. She will keep you from collapsing like you would have if I had the time to deal with you."

Sadie glared at Cinna, but didn't argue. She wasn't sure what to feel. Angry? Afraid? Relieved?

 

[Cinna]

She left soon after the vision she had in the courtyard.

The streets of the Winter Court were slick with frost, moonlight glinting on the cobblestones stained dark where bodies had fallen. Cinna's boots barely made a sound as she stepped over one of them. A man, chest torn open, blood making little plumes of steam in the frigid air.

Her stomach knotted as she realized he was losing control.

Cinna kept moving, following his trails. Shattered doors, broken glass, scorch marks on walls from gods-knew-what. Whispers had already begun rippling through the Court. Not only the Winter Court, all of them had been reporting tales of a blood thirsty monster on the prowl.

By the time she found him, Nikolai was surrounded.

Half a dozen hunters had him pinned in a narrow alley, crossbows at the ready, swords gleaming in the moonlight. The bastard looked half-feral with his shirt torn, blood staining his chest from a bolt now lying on the ground.

"Shit." She murmured. She should have left as soon as Eluin fell.

Her hands lifted before they could fire. The air shifted, faintest shimmer of her glamour rolling through the alley like ripples over still water. The hunter's eyes glazed over, confusing slipping over their faces as Cinna wove her magic through them, coaxing them into seeing things that were not there, to hear footsteps retreating in the opposite direction.

"Go," She whispered in her mother tongue. "There is nothing here for you tonight."

One by one, the hunters faltered, lowering their weapons before retreating into the snow-slicked streets, chasing after a prey that did not exist.

When the last of them was gone, Cinna stepped closer to the creature at the center. Ivy mingled with the shadows, snaking up Nikolai's legs and arms until it bound him.

"You are going to get yourself killed, kurren'ai." She said sharply, voice cutting through the newfound silence. "Or get her killed when Morrwyn hears what you've been doing out here. Does that not defeat the entire purpose of why you left nearly a month ago?"

His shadows snarled at her feet like wolves, but she refused to back down, staring into his crimson eyes.

"Speak to me, kurren'ai," Her voice softened as she took another step forward. "Before there is no coming back from this. I truly do not wish to chain you up until you come to your senses."

 

[Nikolai]

He waited.

Waited for them to reload, to fire again, to close in and finish what they’d started. But no more bolts came. No one stepped forward. Instead, one by one, the hunters lowered their weapons and turned to leave, boots crunching through the frost as they disappeared into the snow-washed streets.

Nikolai’s brow furrowed, confusion cutting through the haze of pain. Every laboured breath came in a ragged snarl, the sound animalistic, guttural, a predator cornered but not yet beaten.

Something moved toward him.

His vision blurred, but the motion sent his blood singing with warning, crimson eyes flashing in the dim alley light. He swayed, boots slipping slightly on the slick stone, every muscle tight and coiled as though preparing for another attack.

And then the ivy climbed.

It snaked around his legs, his torso, rooting him where he stood, dragging him back to stillness he had no intention of giving. His shadows lashed in retaliation, teeth and claws of living darkness striking at the vines, at the air, at the figure moving closer to him.

Kurren’ai.

The word cut through the fog like a blade. Recognition flickered across his face brief, unsteady, before it was gone, drowned in the violent light in his eyes.

She spoke of her. Of Sadie.

And Nikolai’s lips peeled back from his fangs in something between a snarl and a grimace, crimson gaze locking on Cinna as though she were no longer friend, no longer ally, only another mouth that might dare speak Sadie’s name where it did not belong.

“Word cannot reach my maker if there is no one left to speak,” he growled, voice low, strained, every syllable scraped raw. “I am seeing sense. Doing what must be done.”

He tried to lift his hand, to tear free of the ivy, but the vines held fast, dragging him lower, anchoring him. His frustration broke into a snarl, and his shadows surged upward, coiling around Cinna’s throat with a suddenness that made the air crackle.

“Cut me loose, woman,” he snapped, voice shaking with fury and something too close to desperation. “Speak of chaining me again, and I will forget that I call you friend.”

But even as he said it, the grip of his shadows faltered, loosening against her throat. His body shuddered violently, sweat breaking cold across his skin. The ash and iron still burned in his blood, leeching his strength, dragging him down toward unconsciousness.

He blinked hard, trying to force the darkness from the edges of his vision, but it only closed in tighter, crushing him. His knees nearly buckled under him, but his gaze never left her, feral and unyielding, daring her to try and bind him like some animal.