chapter seven, everything goes according to plan

𝕯arkling

LITTERING FIVE BODIES BEHIND HIS PRESENCE, HE MARCHED FORWARDS THROUGH THE DUNGEON. His hand were pushed into a form, fingers gently twitching as the shadows were submerging the path behind him, suffocating the weak soldiers and choking them with the darkness.

The Darkling marched towards the crime scene of the abducted Liya because everything was going according to his plan. The poisoned tea? He expected that. Liya drinking it? Unexpected, but it simplified many things. Leaving her chambers after the fever? Zlatan will abduct her. And he did.

In order for his plan to work, he hoped that Liya was still alive as Zlatan needed to sell her and no one wanted to pay for a wounded Grisha. As he was walking forwards, he was hearing a distant voice, the teasing tone of the idiot General and it made him feel better – Liya was alive.

She won't find out that it was his plan and for the best of it, she will even think he was the one who saved her. After seeing her tremors during her fever, the apologising and the wish for him not to see her like that made him feel odd, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as only then he realised that she will be abducted again and in a such short period of time. Only this time it was all planned.

It's better for her to never know.

A sudden rip of fabric made him stop and he heard her wince. Pressing his hand to the stone beside him, he moved closer, trying to stay as silent as he could as he knew Zlatan won't be a complete idiot. He will wear Grisha steel because he will expect him to come after. That's why getting to him and knocking him out will require some stealth.

"Oh, dearest, just be very, very silent, hm? It will all be over soon," the idiot's voice echoed throughout the space and the Darkling felt his heart drop.

What—what did he say?

He didn't hear Liya respond, but there was more ripping sound and a wave of heavy breathing that alerted him and he stepped into a spacious hall, the dimmed lights revealing that Liya was tied to a wooden pole, her lower body tied together as her upper body was free, only to see that Zlatan was roaming his hands through her bare stomach.

It made him sick to the stomach.

The Darkling whistled, clasping his hands behind him, watching the way Zlatan quickly moved around, his hair dishevelled and cheeks slightly flustered from the evil grin on his face. He didn't seem surprised by his presence as he just extended his hands to the side, his grin widening.

"Ruined the fun for me, General. I hoped you will come a little bit later," Zlatan chuckled, with a swift move pushing out a revolver and pointing it at his opponent.

The Darkling didn't even listen to his babbling as his attention was on her. The ripped shirt of hers was giving her enough privacy, but her body was full of fresh bruises from his mouth and terrible scars on her stomach... A bitter taste filled his mouth and he tried not to furrow his eyebrows—he planned for this to happen, but seeing her on the pole—Saints, he didn't think it through.

"Do you grope every Grisha you capture?" the Darkling asked, his voice fairly distant, but he could not hide the fact that he was furious and he was disgusted by this scum with the biggest grin on his face.

"Who do you think I am?" Zlatan furrowed his eyebrows in a theatrical manner, pushing his hand underneath Liya's chin and pushing the drapes of fabric away from her body, revealing more scars on her shoulders and her arms. "I only have a little bit of fun with the pretty ones. She is hilariously pretty and silent."

He will break his arms and take out his eyes.

"You are caught in the middle of a crime, Zlatan," the Darkling tried not to thunder at him with pure rage and keep everything calm. "The King will order your beheading."

"Not if I kill you first," he pushed the trigger down of his revolver and that put a mocking smile on the Darkling's face.

Did he really think he will be able to kill him with a revolver? Pathetic.

A gunshot echoed through the space, making the Darkling move away just in time, the bullet flying away. Liya's scream filled in the tension and with a flick of his hands, the shadows surrounded the room, hiding every little source of light around them all.

Now, Zlatan was in his game.

The quick breath of the idiot indicated where he was and a few flashes of lights were complimented with thundering shots—he missed both times. The panic of the man was making him chuckle – it was amusing, really, how easy it was to throw off a man who thought the best of himself. He has never encountered a Shadow Summoner and it shows.

"Don't tell me you are afraid of the dark," the Darkling teased, moving forwards, stretching his hands into the darkness and grasping the panicking body with his hands, kicking his knee, making him groan out of pain and the revolver dropped on the floor.

The man was in his grip, hands pressed to his back as his face was smashed against the stone wall. The squirming of the man was only igniting the amusement in the Shadow Summoner's chest, knowing that everything was going well and this idiot will finally be put in his place.

"All of this for a blind Grisha?" Zlatan breathed out, groaning in pain as the Darkling's touch was metal, looking at the squirming idiot with no remorse. "She could do much more as a concubine in Shu Han!"

The rage crippled in his chest, his vision painting in crimson as suddenly the guy's head became so fragile, just asking to be smashed against the stones. Leaning closer, pressing the man's body harder against the wall, he murmured: "Don't talk about her like that."

"Oh, I saw her scars!" Zlatan groaned, laughter soon leaving his lips even if there was a bit of blood coming from his mouth. "Fjerdans had fun with her! Her place is to be used! Her place—"

As a reflex, he turned Zlatan around to face him and meeting his eyes, he managed to give him a smile before swiftly wrapping his hands around his neck and twisting it to the side, hearing a satisfying crack, complemented by the thud of his dead body on the cement.

His fingers were tingling with death as he couldn't think straight anymore. The dead body in front of him didn't alert him that he just ruined his own plan himself and destroyed everything. All he could think about was how he dared to disrespect Liya like that and without even knowing, he was already by the pole, noting how the shadows were disappearing slowly and he was untying those damn ropes from her body.

Only then he felt that she was shaking, but not a sound left her lips – she was traumatised. Oh, fucking Saints, she was traumatised because of him. As soon as the ropes left her body, she lunged forwards, but he extended his hand, grasping her and holding her in place as he watched the way she wrapped her hands around her upper body, trying to hide the fact that she was half naked.

He couldn't say anything, nothing was working in his head. His hand pressed her head against his chest, memorising the way her body was shaking, igniting sorrows in his heart as he was taking his kefta off his body and placed it around her. She was mumbling something, but it was incoherent and it broke his heart.

What has he done?

Only then did he realise that General Zlatan was actually dead and other soldiers must've heard the gunshots and they were getting in here. They had to get out of here right now and only later he will figure out how to falsify the reason for that idiot's death. That's why he put his hands on Liya's shoulders, pushing her apart from him, watching the way she nuzzled into his black kefta, hot tears falling down her face as she was overwhelmed.

"I got you, alright?" his voice was rushed, but soothing as he watched the way her lips were crumbling, the way her pupils were moving from one corner to another. "The soldiers are coming for us and we have to avoid the conflict because he wasn't supposed to die."

Liya blinked, her body freezing for a moment even if her chest was rising uncontrollably: "He wasn't supposed to die?"

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

He opened his mouth to fix the mistake, but she wrapped her hand around his wrist and he knew what she was doing. His eyes widen and his mouth fell slightly open as he didn't get the chance to pull his hand away from her as she already moved backwards, on the edge of falling, but her back hit the wall, giving her the stability to stay on her feet.

Before he could say anything, the shadows disappeared and he saw her smiling.

Liya was smiling.

Why was she smiling?

An echo of her laughter reached his ears and now he was the one frozen. The dead body behind him and the knowledge that soldiers were going to get in here any second now we're just a secondary concern. Instead, he watched the way her hands gripped the wall, the black kefta swallowing her petite body which just now started to heal from a long time of starvation and she was laughing.

"Liya?" he managed to whisper, ready to step forwards, but she snapped her head to his side, their eyes somehow meeting and he stopped in his step, feeling as if he was submerged under freezing water.

Having difficulty breathing, she wheezed out, "I'm such a fool—Saints! I'm such a fool!"

Such drastic swift in her moon was making him feel nervous. She clearly snapped.

"Liya," he placed his hands into a surrender motion in front of himself even if he clearly knew that she couldn't see it, "are you hurt? We need to get out of here."

The smile on her face dropped as soon as he stepped closer, her whole body tensing immediately. "Am I hurt?" she whispered, shaking her head, "Am I hurt?!"

"Liya—"

"This was your plan, right? There was no travelling through the Fold to enhance my powers, to gain experience, to experiment?" Her voice was high-pitched and she was breathing heavily – she still seemed to have a fever.

"I can explain—"

She snapped, rage filling her bloodshot eyes, "Explain what? That you chose me for your plan, for me to get abducted just because I am the weakest? Because other Grisha actually get your respect and my purpose was always to be used as a punching bag? Oh! Is that why you mentored me? Is that why you tried to earn my trust?"

Then she wailed as if she was in pain, but a smile sat on her lips and it was straining him and he wanted to disappear. It was exactly what she said. And for the most part, he should not care, he shouldn't care that he betrayed her because she definitely wasn't the first on the list of people he has betrayed. But those eyes, her beautiful doe eyes full of tears, bitter and burning tears were drilling his chest with pure agony.

What has he done?

"Liya," he breathed out, his head slightly getting dizzy as suddenly there was no air for him to breathe—is this how guilt feels like? That gnawing feeling, ripping his chest open – is that guilt? "We must go. I'll explain everything on our way."

Shaking her head, her hair surrounding her face, her tears making her strands wet as she was hitting the wall behind her with her fists in an anxious manner, "Why did you do this?" her voice cracked at the end and he felt it with the whole of his body. "Why me? Why always me?"

"I'll explain everything, Liya, I promise! We have to go now!" he rushed her, feeling on edge as he wanted to just grab her and get her out of there, but he couldn't force himself to move.

In the distance he heard the clinking heels of people—two, three, five—he didn't know. Saints, they had to go now. That's why, he roughly grabbed her forearms, sinking in her flinch and he started to drag her towards the other side of the exit where there weren't any soldiers. He knew this place in the palm of his hand—he helped build this place as one of the Grisha safety camps two centuries ago. He made the tombs for hiding and emergency exit.

The woman screeched, sobbing and moving against him, to the other side. She was hyperventilating and slowing him down. Her movement was distracting him. It drove him crazy. He knows.

He knows.

He knows he messed up.

"For fucks sake," he grumbled, pressing her to the wall, trying not to inflict any pain on her. The grip on her hands was hard and he knew that, but if he will release her, he was sure she will bolt in the other direction and get herself killed. "The soldiers are coming and once they see his dead body – they will kill us both. I can't kill them or General's family will track me and the whole plan will go to hell! So please—Liya, we have to go."

"Leave me here," she demanded, her voice giving out the location where they were.

"What? Liya—"

"I said, leave me here!" She yelled, pushing her arms to herself, trying to get out of his grip, but he won't let her go.

"Don't be an idiot," he thundered. "Your sister is back in the Little Palace."

"Don't be an idiot!?" she groaned, choking on the last word since the tears were getting in her mouth.

He didn't have time to reply as the footsteps were just around the corner and six rifles were pointed at them, the uniformed men screaming for them to get away from each other and show hands.

The Darkling closed his eyes in pure frustration. This woman is going to be the death of him. Why couldn't she just comply? Why she made everything far more complicated? He promised to give her the answers and he will—Saints!

Liya didn't seem to respond to the soldier's presence and she just roughly pushed her arms down, getting away from his grip and she extended her hands on his chest, pushing him back as her mouth was twitching with pure anger, finger-pointed at him, "I will not be your fucking punching bag. I will not tolerate this degradation, this treatment as if I am—a-a waste of air."

"MOVE AWAY FROM EACH OTHER AND SHOW YOUR HANDS!" a soldier roared.

She didn't seem to ease and he was speechless. He already came at ease with the knowledge that he would have to use the Cut and overcomplicate everything because she couldn't calm down.

"I don't want to hear you ever again. This kind of humiliation? Proceeding with the plan instead of telling me?" she scoffed, "Where was the harm in letting me know? Just because I'm blind—just because I can't see—it doesn't mean I'm not a human!"

"I SAID MOVE AWAY OR WE WILL SHOOT!"

The woman's head finally snapped in the direction of the soldiers and the dim light of the corridor lit her face. The Darkling breathed in and held his breath in pure surprise as the expression on his face actually raised the hairs on his arms.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, eyes bloodshot, and drenched in rage as her nostrils were flared. The twitching of her mouth was out of place as she extended her hand in the direction of the soldiers and she breathed in, a vein popping at her neck and suddenly—

The soldiers, six of them, started to choke. As if they froze in the air, their eyes popped, mouths falling down as they became crimson. As of reflex, they dropped their rifles only to grasp their throats, eyes begging for release, but a popping sound echoed through the hall and they all dropped on the ground, one by one – dead.

Liya just stopped their hand with a simple flick of her wrist.

And he was speechless.

"How did you—do that?" the Darkling wasn't terrified that she witnessed such gruesome deaths. No, he was amazed—all of that feeling that she can surprise him with his discovery just proved to be correct.

Her face remained the same – raging as if those deaths weren't the first ones she has caused. The Fjerdans—of course, that's how they caught her. She must've killed one of them by accident. His theory was right that her abilities just needed a push – she needed to be angry, horribly angry in order for her powers to burst.

Saints, she was a true discovery.

"Leave me alone," she whispered, her shoulder slumping forwards as her hands dropped beside her. She seemed to exhaust her. "Leave me alone, please!" she cried out.

The Darkling couldn't leave her alone, not after he witnessed what she could do. He managed to blink a few times and he saw the way she dropped on the floor, grasping her face, covering it as she wailed from the bottom of her lungs.

She kept repeating the same phrase over and over again:

"I can't do this anymore."

This was a sign for him to gently twirl his fingers for a little gust of shadow to appear. It slowly moved to her and her breathing started to slow down as she suppressed her chokes before her body moved completely down on the floor—he just knocked her out, just so he could calmly get her back.

Pushing his hands underneath her and raising her, he noted once again how horribly skinny she felt from all of that time with Fjerdans. Her face seemed to relax just a little bit even if her tears kept streaming down her face. Sucking in a breath, he pressed her against her chest, feeling the way his heart trembled with pure agony.

"Liya," he whispered, "you'll understand."

With those words, he kept walking forwards, not even thinking how he will solve this mess, but he thought about her abilities that soon were overthrown with guilt.

She was the weakest her whole life and he used her the same way just as the others did. He shouldn't care, he shouldn't even feel remorseful. But watching the way those tears didn't stop falling down, the way his kefta was covering her scarred body, he realised that he aches for her.

He aches to get to know her better. He aches for her smile. He aches to know everything that has happened to her. He never wants her to see her cry again and the realisation that she will never ever let him close again completely wrecked him.

The Darkling just lost the woman his heart trembled for.

But she'll understand. She has to.

author's note:

What an intense chapter, lord... Did you expect that it was all planned/expected by the Darkling?
What do you think about this book so far? I really appreciate your comments!
Also thank you for 2k reads!

m.n