Page 4 of Bound By Darkness

If I reached it at all.

When I had hauled the 50th piece of stone into the storage shed, my bones were like thick logs of wood, each muscle straining as I trekked up the grassy hill toward the two guards waiting to drag me to him.

No fear lingered in my veins as the guards watched my movements to see if I’d run. Running away meant death, and I wanted something much more dangerous. I wanted to live.

Panting, the guards greeted me at the top, arms folded over metallic breastplates. “That’s her last stone,” a young woman stated, her hair threaded in braids. “She made it before the faelight disappeared.”

The young man chuckled. “By the looks of it, she won’tlast until morning. Look at how red her face is. You can barely see the freckles poking beneath.”

The woman with braids joined in, her laughter a bitter echo. “She won’t make it through the night thanks to that Noble Fae,” she continued. “It’ll be a blessing if you die. I’m tired of the trouble you bring us.”

I kept my head tucked in, my lips sealed. I wanted to do anything but remain quiet as the guards taunted me with their vile words. I loathed them, but feared Moria more as the words floated in my head. I didn’t need to inflict more torture on her with my arrogance. She had enough to sort through.

The woman’s laughter turned into a frown as she shoved me toward the guest chambers.

My knees bent awkwardly as I steadied myself against the assault.

“What? Finally have nothin’ to say?”

I remained silent.

My vision swirled, disorienting me enough to avoid engaging in petty banter. One foot forward, then the next. I repeated this chant over and over as they hurled insults at me. It wasn’t the first time I’d become a verbal sack to punch and abuse.

A tiny seed of panic festered within me as the guest chambers approached, their wooden shutters lightly rapping against the solid panels.

I breathed in. I breathed out.

My first punishment session had reeked of blood and piss as Gayle’s ringed hands left wounds the size of boulders. Whatever this man intended to do with me would pale in comparison to the pain I’d encountered in my first session with him.

The young man knocked on the wooden door, pieces flakingfrom wear and tear.

The door swung back as the robust Fae leaned against the door frame, a crooked grin slicing his face as his stubby hand wrapped around a glass bottle. His gaze stumbled on me. “I thought your guards forgot my deal.”

“Never, my Lord,” the woman said with a slight bow. “She is here as requested. I apologize for the stench someone like herbrings inside your establishment.”

The Lord, if you could call the trash that, glanced over my appearance, his eyes lingering upon my chest. “It is adequate. Wait out here,” he said as he pointed the bottle at both guards.

“But my Lord,” the man interjected. “It is unsafe for someone like you to be alone with her.”

He narrowed his pointed eyes. “She has chains, does she not?”

“Well, yes, my Lord, but?—”

“And nothing,” he spat. “I will call for you when I am finished,” he said before grabbing iron.

The door slammed shut, and with it, my chances of escape.

He took a deep breath, bottle extended in his hand as his gaze shifted to mine. “Drink.”

Grabbing the bottle, I observed the amber liquid. It sloshed around inside, bubbles forming with the movement. Taking a whiff, my stomach churned at the smell.

“Drink,” he commanded. No gesture of kindness lingered behind his words.

The glass froze my lips as I tipped the bottle back, the amber liquid burning its way down my throat like kindling. It didn’t leave a pleasant aftertaste either.

“Better,” he muttered.

Holding the ornate bottle, I surveyed the guest quarters—the one place I had yet to explore. Moria, however, knew of this place well. It made my skin crawl thinking of what she’dendured inside this house with men like this. What she’d completed to leave this locked room.

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