Page 38 of Lethal Truths

I lie here, staring up at the craggy ceiling and listening for any signs of life. There are multiple passageways that lead out of this room, which has me feeling antsy. Someone can come out of any of them so I don’t know which direction to look to be prepared.

Half an hour goes by, if I had to guess, without anyone returning to check on me. I suppose they think I’m secure in these cuffs. Which I am. Except… maybe I don’t have to be.

Twisting and pulling my wrists, biting my lip to keep my pained whimpers inside, I focus all of my waning energy on slipping them out. The thick, unyielding leather bites into my skin every time I yank against them, and before long, my wrists are slick with blood. My eyes are welling up with frustrated tears, but I don’t give up. I have no clue how long I’ll be alone for, but I’ll be damned if I wait here like a good little lamb for slaughter.

Just as I’m about to scream my agony out into the silence, my right wrist slips free, bloody and raw as it is. I choke on a relieved sob, inspecting the fresh wounds. The skin around my bones is shredded, peeling, and angry, but I’d have happily chopped my whole fucking hand off for freedom, so I consider myself lucky.

With one hand out, I’m able to pull the empty cuff through the loop at the top of the altar. Thank god for that because I’m not sure I had the strength to yank my left wrist free. Sitting up on the stone, I dart my gaze around the round room, straining my ears for any sign that someone is near.

Am I truly alone? Could I risk running? Or are there others in the shadows, silently watching me and waiting to strike?

The thought is chilling and my stomach roils. Don’t give in to fear yet. Now’s your chance. Run. I wait a beat, and then another, just to be safe. And then I let a surge of adrenaline push me forward.

On unsteady legs, I hold my breath and drop to the floor, stumbling with the force of hitting the ground. I give myself a second — just one second — to feel the throb of pain from my landing, and then I shut it all off, and pick the path to my right at random.

The cold stone floor is harsh on my bare feet as I move, and my heavy breaths are far too loud for the cramped hall. It echoes off the rock walls, possibly alerting everyone within earshot of my presence. I move as quickly as I can down the dim, musty hall, taking curves and forks at random and praying that I’m not going in a big circle.

I swear I hear something, but I can’t be sure if it’s a person or not. Maybe it’s my imagination, paranoia in the midst of my living nightmare. I rush around a corner, looking behind me instead of in front, and I collide into a solid wall of firm muscle. A scream gets trapped in my throat as a big hand covers my mouth, the other circling my waist and yanking me back.

I struggle, kicking out my legs and scratching any bare flesh I can find. Whoever it is that grabbed me grunts deep in their throat. I hesitate, finding something familiar in the smell of cologne in the air around me. Then they tap their finger on my cheek a few times, as if they’re asking me to calm down or be quiet or something else absurd. It’s a wild request, but the more I breathe in the scent of them, the more I feel myself relax. Even if I hate myself for it because if I’m right about the man at my back, there’s truly nothing calming about him.

I jerk a nod anyway, trying to tell him to release me and hoping I’m putting my trust in the right person. Slowly, the hand lifts from my mouth, and the one on my waist spins me around.

“Asher? What the hell?” I whisper, pointedly ignoring the flood of relief at seeing him.

Asher presses his lips together, his verdant eyes darting over my head and down the long hall behind me. Lacing our fingers together, he slowly backs away, pulling me with him. “Be quiet. Follow me,” he murmurs before turning and leading the way.

But this hallway looks just like the one I just came from, and for all I know, it’ll lead me back to that fucking altar. Digging my heels into the dirty stone floor, I yank my hand free. “I will never leave my safety in your hands. I’ll find my own way out of here.”

“If you make a sound, if you make a wrong turn, we’ll both get caught, and we’ll both end up dead. Why would I risk my life just to mess with you?”

I laugh, though nothing is funny. I’m hanging onto my sanity by a fucking thread at this point. “I don’t know, Asher, maybe because—“ Distant footsteps have my words dying off, my heart lurching up into my throat.

Asher curses under his breath, swiping his hand down over his face. “We have to leave,” he murmurs. “Come with me.”

My back is up against the wall — literally and metaphorically — and my options are dwindling too quickly for my brain to keep up. I know he’s my best bet of finding my way through this creepy underground maze. But Asher hasn’t been on my side once since I showed up at Blackwood University. He’s made sure, time and time again, that my reactions to him are defensive and angry. How can I rewire my mind into feeling comfortable slotting my hand in his and letting him guide me to safety?

It’s honestly fucking hilarious that he thought this would work.

“Go to hell,” I grind out, rolling my shoulders back and striding right past him. The footsteps are coming from the opposite hall. As long as I keep heading in the other direction, I’ll eventually find an exit.

Asher spins as I pass him, grabbing my arm and yanking my back against his chest. “You’re going to get yourself killed, pet,” he warns in my ear, his voice like gravel as it runs over me.

I shudder, slamming my eyes closed to fight off the frustrating amount of arousal he stirs in me. Ever since he kissed me like he was trying to inhale my soul, I’ve been clouded with it. I hate him. I fucking hate him. And yet my body aches for the toxic pull between us. Why am I like this?

“Hasn’t that been your goal this entire time?” I counter stiffly.

He keeps one hand circled around my arm, while the other flattens over my heart, sitting there for a moment before crawling up and wrapping around my throat. “Things change, Prudence,” he breathes, giving my neck a squeeze in warning. “I’m not ready to be done with our games quite yet, which means it’s in my best interest to keep your stubborn ass very much alive.”

Muffled voices echo toward us, clearly raised and frantic, even if I can’t make out the words. I’d bet my right tit that they’ve realized I’m not lying on that altar waiting to be butchered any longer. Their guards will be up and their bloodlust will be unchecked. If I don’t move, they’ll find me. Find both of us, and like Asher said, that will lead to our deaths, guaranteed.

“Come on, pet,” Ash urges as he steps away from my back and takes my hand. He tries to pull me forward, his eyes darting back to the hall where people are clearly coming for us. With a hoarse curse under his breath, Asher looks me dead in the eye and whispers, “Move your ass, now, and I’ll tell you everything I know about your sister.”

My world tilts on its axis yet again while I blink at Asher, trying to process his words and make sense of them. It’s too much, this revelation, and suddenly, it’s as if I’m underwater. Everything is hazy and distant, and when I mutter, “I don’t have a sister,” my words are thick, like I’m hearing them through a barrier.

Asher blows out a breath, tugging once more on my hand. “That’s not true. If we don’t leave right this second, you’ll never get the chance to meet her.”

I stare at him, waiting for the joke, the cruel laughter, but it never comes. “Okay,” I breathe, my voice cracking right along with my mind. And then my feet are running beneath me and Asher is pulling me down another dark hallway, and somehow I’m leaving my life in his hands without too much protest.

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