Page 11 of Caged By the Lich

ASTRID

The heavy door slams shut behind Olvaar — no, V. The nickname is a good reminder to keep my distance from the asshole — and I'm finally alone. My heart's still racing, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. This isn't over. Not by a long shot.

I scan the room, taking in every detail. Luxurious, sure, but it doesn't change the fact that I am still a fucking prisoner. The windows catch my eye first – large, ornate things that mock me with glimpses of freedom. I stride over, running my fingers along the seams. Sealed tight. No latches, no weak points. I press my face against the glass, peering down. A sheer drop into nothingness. Even if I could break through, there's no way down.

Frustration bubbles up, but I push it aside. There's always a way out. Always.

I drop to my knees, examining the floorboards. They're solid, not a single loose plank or hidden trapdoor. I tap along the walls, listening for hollow spots. Nothing.

The furniture comes next. I flip the mattress, tear apart the pillows, upend drawers. No hidden compartments, noconvenient tools left behind. They've been thorough, I'll give them that.

My eyes land on the chandelier. It's bolted to the ceiling, but the crystals... I grab a chair, dragging it over. Standing on tiptoes, I manage to snap off one of the dangling pieces. It's not much, but it's sharp. A potential weapon, maybe.

I tuck the crystal into my bodice, mind whirling with possibilities. The bathroom – there has to be something there. Pipes, maybe? I burst in, yanking open cabinets, searching for anything I can use. But of course, it's all magically controlled. I can't find a single piece of plumbing or tool.

My reflection catches my eye in the mirror, and I pause. My hair.

Hands shaking slightly, I reach up and pull out one of the long, ornate pins holding my updo in place. It's sturdy, with a wickedly sharp point. Perfect for picking locks or, if it comes down to it, stabbing a guard.

A grim smile spreads across my face. V might think he's won, but he has no idea who he's dealing with. I refuse to be anyone's pawn. One way or another, I'm getting out of here.

Moving back across the room, I press my ear against the door, listening intently. The guards' hushed conversation filters through, and I catch snippets about shift changes. I can’t break out of here if there is always someone stationed outside my room. So lock picking is out.

I’ll have to get a guard on my side.

My fingers brush against the crystal and I now have a new plan for it. It's a risk, but it's my best shot. I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

"Hey," I call out, my voice carefully modulated to sound weak and desperate. "Please, I need help."

The door creaks open, and a young guard peers in cautiously. "What is it?"

I stumble forward, clutching my stomach. "I feel sick. Please, can you get me some water?"

He hesitates, torn between protocol and basic decency. I press my advantage.

"Look," I whisper, glancing around furtively. I pull out the crystal, the light dances off it. "This is yours if you help me. Just... just let me send a message to my sister. That's all I'm asking."

The guard's eyes widen, fixating on the gem. I can see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the risk against the reward.

"I..." he starts, reaching out tentatively.

Suddenly, the temperature in the room plummets. A chill runs down my spine as a familiar, menacing presence fills the air.

"Now, now," V's silky voice cuts through the silence like a knife. "What do we have here?"

The guard jumps back as if burned, stammering excuses. But V's eyes are only on me as he shoulders past the guard, the door swinging open to accommodate his large frame. His eyes, currently a stormy gray, bore into mine.

"I expected better from you," he says, his tone deceptively calm. "Trying to corrupt my staff? Tsk, tsk."

I lift my chin defiantly, refusing to back down. "Can you blame me for trying?"

A cruel smile plays at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, I don't blame you at all, little rebel."

"Astrid," I growl, hating the nickname he's given me.

He only smirks, continuing as if I said nothing. "In fact, I'm rather impressed by your... resourcefulness."

He turns to the guard, who's practically shaking in his boots. "You, on the other hand... I'm very disappointed in. Report to Bune for reassignment. Now."

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