Page 53 of The Other Side of the Mirror

I screamed the word in my head again and again, as though that could carve it into my hand and send it to him. To myanima…

No, I couldn’t think about that yet. Couldn’t process who he was to me. Not until I figured out a way to get out of this mess.

Eyes up, stout heart. Remember, the only way out is through.

My mother’s words echoed strangely in my mind as if drawn up from a well of memory. But they sent a wave of calm through me, rallying my resolve. I would make it through this too.

On shaking legs, I stood up to test the limits of my chains and found they allowed me to almost reach the bars of my cell. There was someone in the cell across from me that I hadn’t been able to see from against the wall, sitting crossed-legged and facing away from me. A metal band circled the back of his dark-haired head, and I realized it must be attached to some sort of mask over his face. There was something familiar about him, but I was distracted from my perusal by the quiet sobs and low murmurs to my right.

I moved forward until the chain yanked me back. The cell on the side wall held a weeping fae, her blonde hair shining even in the dim gloom, her skin so pale it was nearly translucent. Next to her was her furious-looking partner, or at least I guessed that was the case from the protective way he angled his body toward hers, his low voice obviously trying to soothe her fearful tears. Like me, they were chained by their wrists to the wall, their hands covered in similarly bulbous shackles, though I noted neither bore a matching collar. Perhaps the iron bulbs were there to block their magic, and the band around my neck an untried invention.

A beady-eyed guard walked forward in a slow shuffle from the gloom of the entrance. He stopped at the couple’s cell, swaying slightly. With a smarmy grin, he took out his keys, and my stomach dropped as he started lazily fondling himself over his pants. I saw the prisoner across from my cell stiffen, even though he hadn’t turned—and knew from the helpless dread in his posture that this wouldn’t end well.

“Stop your cryin’ or I’ll make yeh,” the guard threatened in a drunken, dangerous voice. The female shook but continued weeping softly.

Anger curled in my stomach. I couldn’t let this happen.

The key turned in the lock with an echoing clack, and her companion started shouting empty threats, straining against his bonds. But the guard staggered forward, ignoring his futile attempt at intimidation as he unchained the blonde’s manacles from the wall and dragged her forward with them.

No…Iwouldn’tlet this happen.

She was screaming now for him to stop, to let her go. Fighting so hard, I saw her blood seep from where the iron bit into her wrists. Her partner was roaring—the sound of it tearing at my heart as I formed a rash plan.

The guard yanked her head back by her hair, forcing her to her knees. His other hand was reaching toward his trousers when I said coolly, “Idoubtshe’ll be very good.”

His head snapped to me. The masked prisoner’s did the same, the sheen of his iron mask glinting in the dim light.

“Didn’t ask yer opinion, so shut yer mouth,” he grunted at me. “Or I’ll find some other way that mouth can be useful.”

The guard turned his attention back to the prisoner at his feet, and I laughed, loud and mocking. He looked back at me, openly seething.

“I doubt very much I’d be able to tell if you did.” I held up my manacles two fingers apart, a knowingly incendiary grin on my face.

The dungeon had gone dangerously quiet, save for the sound of the blonde’s low sobs. The guard’s face became even redder, and I smirked. Power-drunk bastards like him hated it when you weren’t as scared of them as they thought you should be. Especially when that power was easily taken away.

“I’m well aware of the type of dickless, worthless pieces of filth who have to use force to get their pleasure,” I continued, condescension dripping from every word. I widened my eyes in mock concern. “Can you even get it up without the screaming?”

His face flushed from red to a deep purple, and I leaned forward to deliver my final blow. “But I doubt I’d be able to even tell if you were in my mouth, let alone between my legs.”

The guard shoved the blonde back into her cell, not bothering to reattach her to the wall in his rage before hastily locking the cell door. She fell into her companion’s arms, shaking.

But I didn’t let myself feel relieved. Not until this was over.

“His Highness said to keep yer untouched, but you need a lesson yer won’t soon forget.” The guard unlocked my cell while clumsily unbuckling his belt. He staggered forward with dark intention in his eyes.

I fluttered a shackled hand to my breast. Though the effect of the motion was somewhat lost with the iron circling it, I saw his beady eyes take in the line of my cleavage.

“Oh, I don’t think you could handle me.”

I backed into my cell with a sensual sway of my hips. Goading him as much as I dared to forget his fear of his prince and do exactly what I wanted him to.

He stepped up next to me, his breath rank on my face before his fist found my stomach. My breath tore out of me as I doubled over, the pain from my bruised ribs flaring white hot. Before I could get a breath in, he came up behind me—pulling me up against him by my hair.

Perfect.

“As I was saying, bitch, yer gonna?—”

I slammed the back of my head into his face, hearing the sickening crunch of his nose breaking. He dropped my chains, whatever he was about to say dissolving into a wet-sounding curse. I spun around before he could recover, kicking him in the middle of his chest in one fluid motion. His head hit the bars with an echoing crack.

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