Page 29 of Unmoored

For one short day, I’d thought I’d escaped this fate. I thought I’d found freedom and a new life within this dark, ominous underwater city, but clearly that was a lie. Once again, my mind had created a new reality for me that would never exist.

Cordelia’s companions stood on either side of the bed, and before I could process what was happening, they were strapping my ankles and wrists to the netting beneath me.

Panic bloomed in my chest, and my breathing came quicker. Visions of scowling doctors in white coats strappingme to a table flooded my mind, and phantom shocks from the treatments at the asylum teased my nerves.

“Calm down, please,” Cordelia’s voice cut through the noise in my mind, but it did nothing to help.

I tried to say something, but no words escaped my throat. Instead, I choked out a pained gasp. My lips were met with a cool cup, followed by smooth liquid rushing into my mouth. Before I could protest, I swallowed and looked up into Cordelia’s black eyes, searching for any sign of compassion. None was given, and she held my head back until all the liquid had slipped down my throat.

Within seconds, I understood why I’d been strapped to the netting. The elixir felt like fire coursing through my veins, and I let out a guttural scream. I wasn’t sure if any sound actually left my mouth, but the sharp, burning pain was so intense that my vision blurred.

My back arched as I protested against the invasion of my body, and my limbs started to shake as the liquid made its way through my system. I was hot and cold at the same time, and my skin felt like it was stretching itself over my bones. After what felt like an hour of this agony, it suddenly subsided, and I lay limp in a pool of my own sweat.

By the time my mind cleared and my vision came back into focus, I was alone in my room once again, naked atop the damp quilt and staring at the black stone ceiling.

My body felt like it had been run over by a carriage, and before I could get a handle on my emotions, tears flowed from my eyes. The feelings erupting in my chest were so painful, and I felt soalone. For the next few days, I’m unsure how long, exactly, I drifted in and out of a restless sleep. Cordelia and her assistants were often around when I wokeup, and I soon grew to associate her presence with more of the painful elixir. Once again I found myself daydreaming of Draya, this time in his human form, wandering into this strange room as I was in this state of limbo. His deep blue eyes peered down at my face while his clawed fingers gently caressed my cheeks.

I tried to push the daydreams away, telling myself they were hallucinations yet again. But the treatments continued, day after day, and I had no other resolution. I retreated into myself while Cordelia worked, trying to force my feelings and thoughts into oblivion, and my only reprieve was the daydreams of the man who’d plagued my mind for years. By this point, he’d become a part of me, and I wasn’t sure how to reconcile that thought.

18

DRAYA

Aweek had passed since I brought Hazel into the depths of the Talassian Capital, and I’d not seen her once since she’d been placed under the care of our highest ranked doctor.

Cordelia was a half-human, half-Talassi woman who’d spent most of her time with the Talassi, yet managed to stay in her human form for the four years she spent attending medical school. Her knowledge had tremendously helped advance Talassian medical procedures, and she was held in high regard within our society. The Queen had tasked her with determining whether Hazel was truly part Talassi, and I felt as if a week was ample time to come to an answer.

After assigning her to my care, the Queen and Commander Adri temporarily relieved me of my other duties as a warrior, which was quite irritating. I didn’t ask for the job of “prisoner-nanny” but here I was nonetheless.

The first time I tried to check on her, Cordelia had rudely sent me back home, informing me she needed atleast a week to make any progress, and that my hovering would hinder her work. Of course I was frustrated, but arguing with Cordelia was basically a death sentence, so I retreated and spent the next seven days twiddling my thumbs and cursing myself for getting into this predicament.

Finally, the week was up, and I made my way back to the area of the Queen’s residence where Hazel was being kept. Checking in on her required me to shift into my human form, which I did not enjoy in the slightest, but I pushed my annoyance aside in hopes that I would soon be able to give her back to the Queen and return to my normal duties.

The room was quiet when I approached, and I knocked gently before entering. Cordelia stood over Hazel’s bed, her face scrunched into a scowl and her hands glowing with some sort of magic.

My eyes widened as I neared, guilt tightening my chest. Hazel lookedawful.

Drops of sweat beaded over her skin, and dark hollows shadowed the sunken skin under her eyes. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her breathing slow and shallow. Of course, I didn’tfretfor her, but seeing anyone in such a sickly state was bothersome.

“Is she well?” I demanded, not caring that I was interrupting Cordelia’s work.

“Enough,” was all she said, not looking up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m a bit busy, Draya,” Cordelia said, shaking her head.

“And I’m growing impatient,” I replied, moving out of her way. I sat in the chair across the room and waited untilCordelia had finished whatever she was doing to Hazel, whose skin grew paler by the second as sweat began pouring from her skin.What is she doing to her?

“May I assist you with something?” Cordelia said, moving to stand in front of me as she readjusted her linen dress and straightened her posture.

“I’d like an update,” I replied. “It’s been a week, and I can’t sit around forever waiting onHazel Emerson’scondition. I’d like to know what you’ve learned.”

Cordelia motioned for me to stand, and we moved to hover over Hazel once again. That pang of guilt was growing stronger the longer I gazed upon her weakened body, but I pushed it away.

“She’s undoubtedly part Talassi,” Cordelia said, lifting one of Hazel’s hands. Her fingers were so thin and pallid that I could see the bones protruding from her knuckles, and I was positive my face showed exactly what I was thinking.

“She looks sickly,” I said, frowning.