Shattered Destiny (Reclaiming The Throne Book 1) by Yumoyori Wilson, Tamara White (4)

~ABIGAIL~

I tried to fight to stay awake—my mind drifted in and out, over and over again.

I'd lost track of my stay there in this moss-filled dungeon. The odor that clung to my nose made me cringe, knowing I was the culprit of such stench.

Going to the washroom was the hardest chore for my feeble body to accomplish. Every part of my body ached, and the slightest movement brought me pain.

The King had held to his word; at least the part of him returning to punish me, but not the statement about allowing the healer to mend my wounds. No, he saved the healing for when the pain was too much that he would heal me and then he would look into my eyes and touch me, igniting a fresh wave of pain. I bet as a mere human, I meant nothing to him and therefore, my words were meaningless.

I tried to open my eyes, to get a glimpse of the time from the window, but again, my mind only drifted away.

Darkness loved to claim me, to surround my mind and take me away from the pain that pulsed through my veins. If only it would last longer than what felt like a mere minute. Or better yet, just take me away permanently. Maybe then, I'd find peace.

I heard the door unlock— the loud click sound cueing me in to someone's arrival. I didn't bother moving. I knew the pain was surely approaching and the one to deliver such torment would be the King, yet again.

Just take me, darkness, I begged. Couldn't it see my suffering?

"Speak," I heard the King announce.

Who could he be possibly talking to? Hell to the no was it me. Maybe a guard was with him. Or, maybe I was beginning to hallucinate. That's what happened when you were on the verge of death...right?

"Abigail?"

If it wasn't for the fact I couldn't move at that moment, I would have laughed out loud and hard. This must have been another punishment. Even Death had forsaken me. To torment me with my mother's beautiful voice, to amplify the agony I was already experiencing. No, I wouldn't fall for such a plot. I would ignore Death's attempt to belittle me.

"Abigail, please, wake up. It's me. Don't die on me." I heard my mother begin to sob.

I continued to ignore such cries. It was all a trick.

"Force her to wake up!" the King yelled.

I heard my mother cry out; a loud thump followed. What was going on?

I felt something lightly brush my cheek, followed by something wet falling on my face. Was it raining inside the dungeon? Oh goodness, I'd gone insane.

"Abigail, my sweetheart. Please, wake up. It's me. Please," my mother begged, her voice so close and clear I realized I wasn't dreaming. My mother was here!

I struggled to open my eyes, trying over and over again. It took everything to finally lift my heavy eyelids. My mother's blurred image peered down at me; tears fell from her eyes and onto my cheeks.

"Mother," I croaked, my throat begging for water as the feeling of thirst assaulted my senses.

"Sweetheart. I'm so glad you're still alive. Just be strong," she cried.

I wanted to console her, to wipe those tears that continued to flow down her flushed cheeks, but I was so weak.

"Enough! Tell her to confess her wrongdoings. She helped the rogue dragons!" the King snarled.

I tried to see where he stood in the dimly lit room, but only my mom's figure was visible.

"Abby. Did you help rogue dragons?"

I saw the fear in her eyes. I gathered enough energy to shake my head, tired of using words to proclaim my innocence. Words would do nothing. My mother knew me the best. She would be able to see the truth in my eyes.

She nodded, giving me a soft smile before her lips pressed against my forehead. Oh, how I wished for her love, to hear her voice and see her smile, over and over again. I never expected her to be here, cradling me in her arms with the King peering over us.

"She did not," my mom said firmly, looking over her shoulder at the King.

"She said not a word! How can you tell she's not lying?" the King demanded.

"Your Highness. She's my child. I've raised her from the day she was born. I know my Abigail and the woman she's grown up to be. I, out of everyone in this land, would be able to tell if my child was lying or being truthful, simply by the glimmer in her eyes. She's innocent," my mom concluded.

I broke out into sobs at her words. Finally, someone believed me, and I was thankful it was my mother.

"Rise," he announced.

My mom gave me one last kiss and gently laid me on the cold, hard floor before she stood. I could see how frail her body looked. Was she taking her medication? Was she eating? Did anyone check to make sure she was okay?

Mommy, don't go, I thought.

I watched as they exited the cell, my mom's bright-blue eyes locking onto mine as she took a final glance over her shoulder.

"I love you."

I lifted my hand, reaching out to her, but they entered the hall, the door closing shut behind them. I broke down in sobs, the image of my mom's lips as she mouthed those three words—no voice escaped those light-pink lips that expressed her love for me. My heart begged for her voice, to hear her say those words that I had once taken for granted hearing daily.

Come back…

I let out a strangled sigh, opening my weak eyelids to peer at my corner that looked so far away. I pulled myself across the dirt floor before a series of coughs overtook me, making me clutch my chest as I squeezed my eyes shut. My throat was sore, the thirst that clawed at my mind becoming irritable.

Yes, my weak body. I know, I'm fucking thirsty. Like I didn't understand you the last fifty times. Wouldn't it be just dandy if a jug of water appeared before me, so I can luxuriate in its cold, rich taste? But no, we don't have that luxury. Stop bothering me.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head at my scattered thoughts. I couldn't believe I was talking to my body. Maybe if I played crazy, they would let me free.

After what seemed like an eternity, especially with how often I had to pause and let my poor, broken body rest, I finally stationed myself in the corner, reaching out to the shackles before me. I would never have imagined myself wanting to be chained. Maybe I was seeking a reminder that I was still imprisoned and unable to escape. Or maybe I wanted to avoid the punishment that would be brought upon me if I didn't have them on after being granted temporary freedom to use my deluxe washroom.

I flinched at the loud noise of the door unlocking, my body automatically dragging itself to press against the wall. I didn't have the strength to curl up in a ball, so I laid there on my stomach, my hand still reached out and gripping the shackles for dear life.

My eyes widened at the sight before me, my throat too dry and my voice too spent to scream. The King walked in first, tugging at someone before pulling them so swiftly, they tripped and fell to the ground at his feet.

I tried to move, to crawl to the person as their head lifted up–sunken blue eyes meeting my gaze.

"Abby," my mom whispered, her voice so frail I knew she was severely sick.

I could see from the paleness of her skin, her lips looked purple even in the dimly lit room. Her dress was covered in dirt and dried blood, cuts and tears evident in the light-brown fabric. Her arms were covered in purplish red bruises; some looked fresh while others must have been days old. She gave me a weak smile as if to ease the horrified expression on my face, but that only heightened my despair–her once straight teeth were stained with blood, and a few were missing.

"I will ask you one last time, Abigail Fiammetta. Are you associated with those rogue dragons that landed upon our soil ten days ago?"

Ten days? It had barely been more than a week, yet it felt like an eternity. How could I possibly speak? My voice was gone. He wouldn't listen to me. He didn’t care that I had already spoken the truth.

I shook my head, biting my lip hard as I resisted the dry sobs that attempted to escape.

"Your Highness, she speaks the truth. Please," my mom begged, breaking down.

My heart clenched with anguish at her tears. I hated to see my mom this way, her cries only deepened the wound forming within my soul.

"I guess I have no choice. Maybe if I do this, she'll confess. If not, I'll believe she's innocent," he suggested, more to himself than to us.

What happened next was uncalled for. My eyes grew double the size as the events played out in slow motion—the sharp, golden edge of a dragon tail pierced through my mom's back. She screamed, the tail jerking her body up into the air as it stabbed her and drove all the way through and out her belly.

I screamed, the sound so high-pitched and strained that it hurt my ears. My pain was nothing compared to the agony my mom must have been experiencing at that very moment—her body began to jerk involuntarily as she coughed up blood that splattered around her and dripped down onto her dress.

"Mo–Mom–N–No...no...in–innocent–" I coughed, my fist clenched as I tried to crawl to where her body was suspended in the air.

The tail retracted back to its owner, the King; my mom's body fell to the ground in one big heap. I cried out, begging my body to move faster.

If I could just reach her, yes. If I could just touch her like I did the blue dragon, she'll heal. She'll live. Please, Mommy, don't go. Don't die...just be patient. I'm coming to heal you. PLEASE.

Her body continued to jerk, blood pooling around her as she coughed up more blood. She turned her head to the side; those sky-blue eyes that would twinkle with happiness and pride every morning as I waved farewell, were now dulling with each passing second—the life being stolen from them.

"Abby."

"Mo–mommy. I'm sorry. I'm...in–innocent." I was only a few inches away, my nails digging deep into the cement, breaking and cracking with each pull.

"I know. I know...my sweet darling. My everything. It's...okay. Shh, don't look at me like that. You're beautiful when you smile, my precious Abigail."

Just a little more...just a few more pulls.

"I need to tell you...need...to...your...background...me...I...love...you." She struggled; a smile formed on her bloodstained lips before her expression stilled, the last remnants of life finally leaving her.

I crawled to her side, pressing my hand to her cheek.

Why won't the power come to me? My mom needs it! My mom needs healing! Please, come to me. Where are you? I need you, please! I need to save my mom. Please. HELP ME.

"Wa–ke...up," I begged, my voice cracking; fresh tears began to roll down my cheeks.

I rubbed my trembling hand against her tear-stained cheek.

"Mom...mommy. Wake up."

Nothing. Her lifeless eyes bore into mine.

"No."

I pressed my forehead against hers, my body shook as I cried.

"So, you were telling the truth. Hmph, what a shame," I heard the King comment. His words gave me the energy to lift my head and glare.

He smiled at my penetrating gaze; my sudden anger only appeared to give him satisfaction.

"You think I'm afraid of you, human? Pathetic." He laughed, his chest vibrated as he lifted his head to the ceiling. I noticed his black tail with the gold edge sway back and forth behind him, my mom's blood flicking off with each wave.

"I've seen hundreds of shifters gaze at me like you are doing right now. You believe you can face me? Can challenge me? You are as weak as your pathetic mom. I must say, I should have realized you could never conspire with such beings of power. No dragon would stoop so low as to associate themselves with a mere human who can't shift. How does it feel? To be left helpless. You must hate me...despise my presence. The joy it brings me to know I caused such misery." He continued to laugh, smacking his chest.

He sighed, standing up straight before stroking his beard.

"I guess you're free to go whenever you please. Not like there's anything to return to. Mourn your mother's death. Engrave it into your mind that it was your curiosity that led to these events. To your mother's death. You'll be given three days to recover. I expect you to return to your duties by then. Farewell, Abigail."

I watched as he let out a final laugh, exiting the dungeon. I caught a glimpse of the guard standing in front of the door—sadness flooded his face as his eyes landed on me and my mother's dead body.

He shook his head, his sad green eyes locked on mine one last time. He mouthed two words. "I'm sorry."

The door closed, silencing my screams that followed.