Chapter 108: Gift or curse
Zareth leaned forward slightly. His voice dropped, becoming more intimate, more persuasive. "You felt it the last time, didn’t you? The strength. The control. The way the world bent when you reached for it."
Rowena remembered the times she had used the powers. The rush, the feel, the way fear had disappeared when power took its place. She hated that he was right.
"You think of this as a curse. I am here to show you it is a key. A key to everything you want." He paused, letting that hang in the air.
"I don’t want power anymore," Rowena said, though the words sounded weak even to her own ears. "I want my mother."
Zareth studied her carefully, his black eye unreadable. "Power is the only way you can have your mother back in your life. Power is the only way you survive." He said.
Rowena had stopped pulling at the chains. She was listening.
Zareth continued. "You want to defeat Aveloria? You could reduce her castle to rubble. You want to free your mother? You could walk into Lycanthria, and every soldier who stood in your way would fall. You want to be Queen? Not as a figurehead but as a true ruler? With this power, armies would not just obey you. They would be wrapped around your will. You would be the most powerful being in this realm. Not just among wolves. Among all who live."
Rowena’s heart was still hammering, but it was not just from fear. It was from a low, traitorous thrum. While her mother had been cautious about telling her so much about this world, Zareth was speaking of strength and absolute power.
"You could be trained. You could master what others spend lifetimes chasing." Zareth continued. "You know, your mother is a strong and wise witch." He said as if reading the direction of her thoughts. "Her only flaw is that Eirene was too slow to act. Too cautious. She waited while enemies closed in. You are nothing like her. I have seen your rage. It’s not a weakness. It’s an engine. You are decisive."
"Don’t say that...you don’t even know me." She stuttered.
"I know enough. I know destiny chose you." He replied.
His words began to settle into the cracks of her fear and her anger. They found the part of her that was tired of being powerless. The part that had felt a terrifying surge of absolute control when those men had died. Power. Not just to survive, but to win. To take back what belongs to her. To make Aveloria pay.
Her heart pounded harder when she saw the visions his words painted. It stirred something dark and eager within her. Walking through the gates of Lycanthria again, soldiers fell without her even touching them. Aveloria’s face in front of her is finally afraid and begging for her life. The crown on her head, with the strength and power to hold it and rule.
Then the image of her mother’s face, weary and pale, in the dungeon cell, shattered it. The guilt was immediate and cold. There wasn’t any time to be delusional about being the most powerful being in the realm. In fact, she hated herself for listening. Hated how part of her imagined it clearly.
She swallowed. "What about my mother?" she asked again, her voice quieter now. "I need her. I can’t do anything without my mother. I accepted to be a vessel to protect us and to prove to her that I could be more."
For a brief moment, Zareth’s red eye flickered. He didn’t have much time to keep being persuasive. Internally, he calculated. Eirene was a prisoner in a fortified dungeon. A plan to rescue her would be a massive logical problem, a potential point of failure. Strategically, Eirene was a lost cause. Being here in Drakwyne would be a distraction to Rowena.
But Zareth knew better than to say that aloud because he could see the girl’s attachment to her mother. To sever it now would be to risk her rebellion. He needed her to be compliant.
He chose his words with care. "You will see her soon," he said, his tone convincing. "I will send my men positioned in Lycanthria to extract her from the dungeons."
It was a lie. A plausible, smooth-faced lie.
Rowena stared at him, searching for deception. "You swear?"
"I have no reason to lie. Your cooperation benefits us both." Zareth answered as he nodded his head.
And a small, fragile smile tugged at her lips. Relief washed over her chest, easing the tightness she had been holding since she woke up. She could have both. She could be powerful and also save her mother.
Zareth noticed the shift in her expression. He took advantage of it. "I apologize for the restraints," he said, gesturing to the chains. "You went berserk last night. You nearly killed three guards."
Rowena frowned. "I don’t remember that."
"You remember nothing?" He asked.
Rowena searched her memory. The men are dropping dead in the forest. Then blackness. She shook her head. "I only remember the men in the forest."
"Your memory will return in time," he said.
Zareth raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The chains around her wrists and ankles sprang open, falling away onto the bed and the stone floor with a loud sound.
Slowly, Rowena stiffly pushed herself up to a sitting position. Her muscles ached. She rubbed her wrists where the metal had changed the skin, feeling the ridges of raw flesh. She looked from her freed hands to Zareth’s ruined patient face.
She sat on the edge of the bed, unsteady but free, her heart still racing. Does this mean being in Drakwyne meant accepting the future he outlined as a possibility? Perhaps has she indirectly pledged herself to him in exchange for her mother’s freedom?
But deep down within Rowena, she couldn’t deny the compelling hunger and newfound ambition despite the fear in her gut.
Zareth watched her closely, already confident the first battle for her loyalty had been won.
