Page 86 of A Sword of Shadow and Deceit

I don’t need to ask why I’m being imprisoned at all. I can practically smell the waves of euphoria rolling off of Dolos in spite of the heavy pressure his presence presents. The darkness surrounding him wiggles and slides over his body and flesh like dozens of snakes made of pure night are suddenly in heat. He is the God of Imprisonment, after all. I should not be surprised that he is so joyful over his own sentence. He gains his own power in the act of imprisoning others and I’d be willing to bet that doing so to me is like sitting down with a delicious drink at the end of a long hard day for him.

The arms wrapped around me pull me back, nearly dragging me off of my feet once more in their haste. My cloak opens and down from the folds flutters a familiar red-and-white blossom. My eyes widen as the guards holding me are called to a halt. My heartbeat increases exponentially as Dolos stands up from his chair and circles the desk separating us. The closer he comes, the more laborious it is to breathe through the dense air.

Slowly, Dolos leans down and picks up the flower. Turning it side to side, I feel rather than see his smile. “It appears the first offense of intruding upon sacred Mortal God only courtyards is a regular habit, Miss Nezerac,” he states, tone ripe with amusement.

I shake my head, ready to explain how I came into possession of the flower—which no doubt is a rare one only grown within that damned courtyard. He doesn’t care to hear it, though. Of course, he doesn’t. The shadows clinging to his form flick at those behind me.

“Take her to the dungeons,” he says. “Her punishment will be performed after three days of starvation.”

Three days of starvation? Bloody fucking Gods. My legs tangle together as I’m dragged backward out of Dolos’ office and into the corridor. I’m flanked on either side as well as front and back. Another set of hands grips my right arm and now I’m being hauled forward by two massive Mortal Gods. I look up at their stoic faces. A few scars here and there, but otherwise perfection incarnate. Who they are doesn’t matter, anyway, I decide. It’s not like they’re going to help me now.

Dolos’ ‘punishment’ is a practical death sentence and it damn well would be … if I weren’t what I am. This is going to fucking hurt.

Chapter 37

Kiera

Step.

Drip.

Step.

Drip.

Step.

Drip.

Even with my eyes closed as I lean towards the back of the cell I was unceremoniously tossed into hours ago, I hear the intruder stop in front of the bars keeping me locked up. My nose twitches at the smell. It’s the same one as the invisible man in Dolos’ office. Parchment. Dust. And something else. A spice I can’t name.

There he is. That motherfucker.

I don’t open my eyes. It’s rather wet and cold down here and it fucking wreaks. The walls are made of crude cut stone, slabs of mostly even rock, save for every few feet where old scars likely made by previous prisoners attempting to claw their way out remain even now. I won’t be one of them. I have no intention of losing my sanity in this dark and damp hole. I doubt even mice climb down here in this cold forgotten place. In the hours I’ve been here, I’ve wondered when the last time they actually used these dungeons was. I haven’t seen any other prisoners, haven’t smelled any remains of them either. Only dust, ice, and decay.

With my eyes shut against the dark and isolated image of my current predicament, I feel my upper lip curl back slightly as the scent on the other side of those bars reminds me that I’m no longer alone. Even as he’s stopped in front of me, I can still hear the dripping of water or what I suspect is sewage as it leaks from the places through the cracks in the stone ceiling above.

Thankfully, I was thrown in here with the clothes still on my back and my cloak still in place after the iron cuffs had been removed. I drag my cloak closer around me to fight off the chill. If the man standing outside my cell wants me to open my eyes and acknowledge him, then he’s going to have to speak first. Otherwise, I’m not fucking cracking.

I’m already angry enough as it stands. We both know—he and I—that there was no reason for my current imprisonment, but he’s a smart man. He knows just how to manipulate those around him. He knew full well that Dolos’ power stems from imprisonment and therefore, I have no doubt in my mind that he manipulated Dolos into throwing me in here.

It’s the why I don’t quite get.

“Are you quite finished ignoring me?” he asks, his voice deep and rather irritated.

I crack my eyes open finally and settle a bland look on him. Barely illuminated by the pale light of a fire dancing within a sconce on the wall, I pick apart his features. Twisted and half hidden in shadow, the man on the other side of the cell peers in at me. His lips are drawn down. His brows furrowed. Despite the annoyance in his tone, his expression appears for all the world as if he’s feeling something I haven’t yet seen on his face.

Guilt.

“I’m not ignoring you,” I say. “I was simply waiting.”

“For what?” he demands. So many fucking demands.

I let my head fall against the wall at my back. “For you to talk first,” I say. “I’m sure there’s a reason you did this.”

The figure outside of my cell turns away from me. Blue eyes flash red before disappearing from my visage entirely. I let my own eyelids fall back into place. It’s nice having the upper hand for a change, especially against him.

“You were supposed to be banished,” he snaps.

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