Page 10 of Dark Fate

Her threat hangs there, thick as fog. She's got it in her head to break me, make me her pet. But I am nobody's bitch.

The way she grins at me, all smug—it's like an icy grip around my spine.

Then the oak doors slam open, and in walks the King himself, Alinar. He's staring daggers. To him, it’s just another twisted Tuesday in the cesspool; her sick sexcapades aren’t even worth batting an eye.

He struts over to where she’s perched, leans close, and whatever he whispers ticks her off something fierce.

She's on her feet quicker than lightning, all fuming and ready to blow. "Out! Leave us, now!" she shrieks.

Thank fuck, I think as I scramble to my feet, making for the doors. I can't leave this den of filth fast enough.

But before I get two steps, the guards are on me. Hissing in pain at the deep puncture wound in my thigh, watching as my dark vampiric blood slowly trickles from the gash.

The bitch got me good. Thankfully, no major arteries were severed, or this could have been problematic even for my supernatural healing ability. Still, it's a troublesome injury that weakens me. Once I'm finally free of this place, this sadistic bitch and I are going to have a very unpleasant reckoning for every unjust torment I've suffered...

"Stay put, slave!" One viciously twists my arms back and claps irons around my wrists. The metal bites deep, but not as deep as my urge to smash their ugly faces. Lucian gets the same treatment as they shove us from the room.

"Move, scum!" A guard clubs me hard across the shoulders.

As they frog march us down the endless hallway, I fantasize about all the ways I'll make these bastards suffer when I'm free. My fury's a caged beast straining at its leash.

We get to our rooms. The guard pushes the door open and tosses me in like I'm a damn sack of potatoes, the impact about shattering my side.

Next door, I catch the sound of Lucian getting the same warm 'fuck-you' as the locks snap closed, locking us in.

All by my lonesome, I'm struggling to shed this cursed collar like hell—the damn thing's stuck tight. Swearing, I punch the wall so hard it crumbles under my fist.

“Cool it with the temper tantrum, brother,” Lucian’s voice breaks through the wall.

“I am no one’s goddamn lapdog!” I spit through clenched teeth.

He’s right, the bastard. Mindless fury isn't going to get me anywhere. They play with control like it's their favorite fucking toy; it's about time I show them I’m not playing their game. I force myself to sit, hands shaking with the effort.

Lucian's voice comes again, calmer this time, filtering through the walls. "Alright, listen up, my fellow prisoner of this fetid shitpile masquerading as a dungeon. I know things look bleaker than a goth kid's poetry journal right now, but we can't let these crown-wearing asshats break our spirits."

There's a shuffling sound like he's shifting closer to the wall. "I mean, come on. We've got more brains between us than the entire royal family has in their inbred little pinky fingers. It's time we put those glorious gray matters to work and figure out a way to bust out of this dank hellhole."

Despite the direness of our situation, I can't help but snort out a laugh. TrustLucianto find a way to make even the most hopeless circumstances seem like just another adventure.

The perfect chance to escape will come. For now, patience and unity must suffice. But soon, this gilded prison will fucking shatter. I'll see if it's the last thing I do in this cesspool.

I've got a destiny waiting beyond these walls: beautiful caramel-gold eyes, a sweet, sensual woman. Nothing keeps a determined beast caged forever. And once we're free, there'll be hell to pay. I'll rain holy fire down on these shit-licking maggots.

That solemn promise keeps my fury chained—but just barely. Soon, it will be unleashed.

Danica

5

Idig inward, stretching along the ethereal thread that connects Rhyland and me, my silent calls growing more desperate with each passing moment.

"Rhyland, please, give me something," I whisper into the void, seeking the familiar warmth of his presence.

But the silence that answers is like a vacuum in space, a desolate coldness where whispers of love and laughter once echoed.

Panic digs its claws into my resolve; an invisible storm of dread threatens to capsize my sanity. Rhyland and his brothers are ensnared in trouble's viscous web, and I've got to cut them loose.

With the brooding castle looming, it’s make or break. Delving into our shared bond again, I plead silently, pressing every ounce of resolve into my psychic shout.

---