Page 90 of A Thief to Die For

I lurch forward and find her arm. ‘I’m sorry. Did I do that?’ She must have been trying to wake me. I scoop her up and carry her to the bed. ‘Are you okay? I was having a nightmare.’

‘I know,’ she whispers.

Carefully, I set her back on the mattress, and she rolls away from me, pulling the blanket over her body.

I apologise again, then stand there like an idiot, not sure what else to do. Eventually, I return to my chair, and my mind drifts back to the dream I can’t shake. The same gut-punch of devastation hits me all over again.

Because the pain of Marian dying in that dream is the same as what I feel in real life.

My head lifts as I wake, and a sharp ache stabs my neck from being bent at an awkward angle all night. I groan. The sound is muffled, thanks to the gag in my mouth.

The pain everywhere makes a vicious resurgence. My wrists and ankles burn from where the ropes tying me to Atlas’s disgusting throne have rubbed away my skin. My lashed back and overfilled bladder aren’t helping things either. In a fit of frustration, I wrench on the ties binding my wrists. But it’s pointless.

Then I remember Lucky – he jumped. And I don’t even know whether he’s alive. He very well could be lying broken and helpless at the bottom of the cliff. My eyes sting as I squeeze them shut.

Don’t you actually die on me.

The door to the High Command opens.

I stiffen as the sound of boots on the floor grows closer. Atlas comes into view, with Coatl following in his wake.

‘Well, well, well,’ says Atlas. He’s visibly disappointed, and most concerning, not the least bit surprised to see me restrained. ‘I hear you’ve been planning my demise.’ His eyes flash with an anger he usually reserves for Agatha.

I shake my head.

‘Don’t worry. I know you could never. Not really. I’m your father, after all. Your blood. You were just having … a little temper tantrum. You mistakenly thought you fell in love with that boy and were acting out, wouldn’t you agree?’

I remain still.

‘You should thank me for saving you.’

My gag-smothered words that follow are not anywhere in the realm of gratitude.

‘You know, you only have yourself to blame.’ He clasps his hands behind him. ‘You’ve been protecting him. Keeping secrets from me. If you had only proven yourself loyal, it’d be you married to him right now.’ He ticks his head to the side. ‘At least temporarily.’

Right. Because I’m some twisted form of his security blanket he’ll never let go. ‘You are the most pathetic, disgusting, selfish, insecure excuse for a man. And you don’t own me.’ Of course, with the cloth in my mouth, he can’t understand me.

He paces slowly. ‘I thought you were smarter than that. Luckily, Agatha is finally proving her worth.’

I huff. If he thinks Agatha won’t serve her heart on a platter to Ryland, then he hasn’t been paying attention.

All you’ve achieved is losing both of your daughters.

‘You don’t think so? Well, she’s certainly proved herself lately. Did you know she’s already trained a large team to assemble an arsenal of explosives for my use? She also brought in additional supplies from the Lower Beaver Trading Post. I think you should be afraid. She might become my favourite daughter.’

I jerk on my restraints, knowing Agatha just might fall for that. You stay away from her.

His head pulls back. ‘Still temperamental, I see. Coatl, we may need –’

A guard knocks, then calls from the door. ‘Excuse me, Commander. You have a visitor.’

‘I’m busy,’ Atlas snaps.

‘Right,’ the guard says, voice unsure. ‘Except it’s … Agatha.’

Atlas inhales deeply. Then his expression changes to one of intrigue. ‘Okay, but tell her to wait by the door.’ He lowers his voice, leaning in to me. ‘Wouldn’t want her to see you like this.’

I jerk on the bindings. ‘Aggg!’ I cry out, praying she’ll hear me.