The Dark Rising (The Hidden of Vrohkaria Book Two)

That’s where they must have taken her after they knocked me out, to that ruined place. I had always wondered what had happened, only knowing that she died because of the Highers, but to actually know the truth? It is even more devastating. They killed her like that, and also killed my dad in what they deemed a hunting accident.

“Fuck,” Darius says as he hovers above me, his eyes wild. “Fuck, Rhea, that’s why I thought it was you.” His eyes go hazy, likes he’s looking straight through me before he shakes his head.

“That’s not important right now.” I sniffle, and he closes his eyes briefly.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

I rub my eyes, they feel puffy and scratchy. “I had always wondered,” I croak out, my throat feeling raw. “They told me that she was dead, along with my father, this confirmed it.”

His hand comes up to move some hair out of my face. “Charles was responsible for their deaths.”

“He was,” I agree. He was the male to slit her throat. I gag, and Darius sits me up, and then a cup of water is in front of me.

“Take little sips.” I do, slowly drinking it slowly. I look around and realize we are in his room. He must have thought taking me somewhere quiet is what I needed. He wasn’t wrong.

“I need to see the rest of it,” I tell him, needing to get it over and done with.

“No,” Darius says sharply.

”I need to see the rest of it. That was the whole point, to see if we could figure out anything.“ It was clear Charles was doing some type of ritual, that what he did brought the rogures to the lands. He fucking did that yet blamed me in front of everyone. He went along with it and I was the one to take the fall for what he did.

“You said the memory had changed, what did you mean?” I ask him.

His fingers stroke along my cheek, his gaze roaming over my face. “There was no one else in the memory I saw. Just… who I thought was you, spilling blood on that platform and then rogures rising out of the ground.” His eyes bounce between mine, and I see that flicker of regret there. “I think your magic cleared whatever hid the true memory.”

“I didn’t feel wrongness when I was in the memory.” I swallow. “Just the truth. I need to see the rest.”

Darius shakes his head. “Rhea, it can wait.”

“I can’t, Darius. If I don’t do it now, I…I don’t think I ever will.” As much as I want to see my mom, even in a memory, I never want to see her like that.

He sighs. “I don’t want.” He pauses, searching my face. “I don’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Warmth spreads through me at his words. “Even if it hurts, I need to see the rest.”

“Are you sure?” At my nod, he gets up and places a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll go and grab it, wait here.” And then he leaves.

As soon as the door shuts, my eyes go to the ceiling, letting the tears silently fall from my eyes. The vision of my mom’s face before he killed her flashes through my mind, and my hands grip the furs tightly beneath me. I take in the scent of me and Darius to calm me, noticing how it’s mingled with mine.

My mom was in so much pain, but I could see, no, I could feel her hatred for Charles, could feel her determination to not give him what he wants, which I’m still not sure of. Either way, I don’t think it worked out what Charles had intended. My mom was truthful, though, beasts did plague the lands, and we are all paying for it.

I wasn’t the one to cause rogures, my mom was if her last words to Charles was anything to go by.

Sitting on the bed, I eye the door for what seems to be the hundredth time. Where is Darius?

Fed up with waiting, I leave the room and follow the familiar hallways until I reach the stairs. Descending them, I hear murmurs, and then a door slamming. Rounding the bottom of the stairs, I follow the voices until I near the door that Damian wouldn’t let me in. I hear a sound coming from there, but then it cuts off sharply.

“Where is everyone?” I ask Josh.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I’m okay,” I tell him, “so where are they?”

“We are in the dining room with Jarred, Zaide, and Damian. I’m not sure where Leo is, and I’ve not seen Darius since he left with you.”

So where is he?

“I’ll go find him, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Walking toward the door, I see that it’s open slightly. I look behind me, checking if anyone is there and then I open the door. Stairs lead down in a circular fashion, only a few sconces lighting the way. A rattle sounds below, and my hand tightens on the handle. With one last look over my shoulder, I descend the steps.

The stone is cold beneath my feet as I go down, it’s just as cold as the air the deeper I go. Where does this lead too? I wasn’t allowed in here last time. I see light at the bottom after some time, and then I’m in a room with cells on either side that are empty. Is this a dungeon? If so, where are the traitors who Darius got information from? The faint smell of blood and stagnant water penetrates my nose, and I rub at it, not liking the smell.

A faint sound, like a grunt, has my head tilting at a door at the end of the room. Cautiously, I head down that way, the stone getting cooler against my feet with each step I take. Just how deep am I? Opening the door, a barely lit hallway is on the other side, and I head down it. Rounding a corner, it opens into another large space, and I flinch as the sound of something connecting with skin reaches me. My heart beats wildly within my chest at it. Is a prisoner being punished? Walking further into the room, noting more empty cells to my left, the room looks like it branches off to the right. Taking a step in that direction, I spot a figure in the dim light. Their back is to me, so I don’t know who it is, but by their form I know it’s male, but it’s not Darius.

Brows furrowed, I continue on silently, but come to a stop suddenly when they bring their arm back. Something dangles from their hand, and I recognize what it is straight away. I felt each strand against my back after all. Droplets of something drip for the leather strands, and I know its blood. Each splash on the stone sends shivers down my spine.

The male pulls his arms back before bringing it forward in a quick slash and I feel like I can’t breathe. A quiet growl sounds as it connects with flesh, and my vision wavers as memoires rush to my mind. The feel of it connecting to my skin, splitting it, tearing it apart. My mouth fills with saliva and I put a hand against my stomach as nausea threatens to rise.

He lifts the whip again, and I move on shaky legs, needing to stop what he’s doing. It may be a prisoner, a traitor, but there are other ways than this. I just need it to stop.

The male doesn’t hear me coming, unsure if he is just concentrating on his task or doesn’t care, but as I get closer, I recognize the back of his blond head.

“That’s enough now,” Leo says quietly, his arm coming to hang by his side as he holds the whip loosely. “You need to stop this, you have punished yourself enough.”

Punished? What is he talking about?

“It’s never enough.”

The world tilts, and I put a hand on the stone wall to stop myself from falling. My hand shakes as I grip it, getting my fingers into the groove as my knees threaten to buckle. My breathing turns ragged, and I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head.

“It is, brother. You have bled more than most.” There is hurt in Leo’s voice, like he’s had this conversation a thousand times.

“No more than her. Again, and be quick. I need to get back to her.”

No. It can’t be.

I stumble forward, needing to know this isn’t what I think it is as Leo sighs, his grip tightening on the handle. This is a trick of my imagination, maybe I heard wrong, maybe I’m hearing things.

I’m so close behind Leo now, and I try to ignore the amount of blood splattering the floor as Leo raises the whip, about to bring it down on the naked flesh before him.

Without thought, I rush the last few steps, and with a trembling hand, I rip the whip out of Leo’s hand. He turns toward me sharply, but I already have magic at my palm and I slam in into his chest, sending him crashing into the wall. My chest heaves, anger overcoming me for a moment as I step toward Leo, but there is no surprise in his eyes that I’m here, just sadness. That makes me pause.

I slowly, ever so slowly glance down at the male kneeling on the cold, stone floor. His back is a mess of torn skin and painted with blood. It drips down into some dark pants, and I cast a glance to the table at the side and the clothes he was wearing earlier. My eyes shift back to his wounds. One, two, three… I see more and more all over, some deeper than others. The whip drops from my hand, the sound echoing in the silence and I see his back tense, his shoulders stiffen and a tear streams down my face.

He doesn’t turn to look at me. I know he knows I’m here, I know he senses me behind him. It’s the way his breathing has changed, the way he holds himself rigid. I shuffle a step forward, still he doesn’t look.

I swallow roughly and look at Leo who takes a step back, his hands fisting at his sides. How long has he been doing this? When did it start? Why?

Why, why, why?

“Leave.” One word, that’s all he is giving me and it’s the wrong one. I’m already shaking my head. Leave? You have to be fucking kidding me. I’m not going anywhere until he tells me what’s going on, and explains to me why this is happening. How long has this been going on?

I let out a shaky breath as I look over his back again, a cry bubbling up my throat at the mess of it.

“Darius,” I whisper as another tear slides down my face. “What have you done?”