Page 135 of The Sins of Silas

It was sick. Vile. I hated Dimitri more than Ulric, and that was saying a lot.

My hands clenched and released at my sides as I stared at Polly. She didn't move, and no one came up to talk to her or check if she was okay. In our shared experience, I found myself wandering toward where she sat, her head buried in her knees.

I sat down beside her, and she didn't so much as budge.

“Hi,” I said softly.

She didn't respond.

I wasn't entirely sure what to say, but I knew there was one thing that had always helped me when I was broken…when things seemed hopeless.

“This is not the end, Polly.”

That caught her attention.She stiffened, then gradually tilted her head to the side, her grey eyes watery as she inspected me.

“We're breaking free from here,” I promised. “And when we do, you'll get your revenge. There will be justice. Your story does not end in this cage.”

She stared at me, her expression lacking emotion. Her voice was small as she replied. “You've only been here for an hour. You won't feel that way after being subjected to his wishes for three years. Even three days will change you.”

Tithara,guide me…three years she'd been imprisoned here?

I debated placing a hand on her shoulder, but any unwarranted touch could trigger her. I kept my hands firmly planted in my lap. “We will be out of here before you know it,” I whispered. “We have a plan.”

Her eyes shifted, emotions welling there, but they glazed over the second her head turned, witnessing who was being shoved back into our cage.

Tobias let out a muffled cry at the sight of his wife stumbling back in. Her eye was swollen as if she had been punched, and her long, golden waves were no longer…her head was now shaven bald.

“She's a bit too old for Dimitri's liking now,” the man chortled, shoving her until she collapsed onto the floor.

As her knees hit the concrete, Torrin lost all composure. He bared his teeth and roared as he rushed forward, grasping the guard and throwing him on the ground before he could shut the cage door. He quickly straddled him and began pummeling his fist into the man's face. Over and over and over.

“Torrin, stop!" Josie pleaded from her spot on the ground. Her face crumpled as she witnessed her son lose himself to his rage.

Torrin's assault only lasted a few seconds, though, before two more guards rushed in, one flinging Torrin off of his comrade, the other squatting down to assess the wounds.

The one who tossed Torrin off then grasped the collar of Torrin's cotton shirt, and my platinum-haired friend squeezed the man's forearms, attempting to break free from his grasp. Torrin was strong, but nearly a year of mistreatment had weakened him.

“DON'T TOUCH HIM!” I shouted as I stood and rushed for them.

The guard onlyoffered a cruel laugh before sucker-punching Torrin in the face. His head cracked backward, blood splattering over the concrete ground.

Elowen cried out, and as I went to help, Silas roughly seized my arm.

My head whirled back at him. “Let me go, Silas!” I seethed.

He squeezed my arm tighter, and I hissed at the pain. “You can’t stop them,” he bit out.

I went to argue when he roughly shoved me to the side and charged toward the man himself. He gripped the guard's shoulders, hurling him to the ground.

The soldier's shoulder slammed into the concrete floor, and he gaped at Silas. He only had a moment before the Prince was above him and began beating the absolute shit out of his face.

I’d witnessed Silas fight before, but this rage was unlike anything I'd seen from him before. Raw. Unfiltered.

It was clear he was letting out his frustrations on this man. All anger. All resentment. Not that I’d complain.

I'd never seen a face become so bloodied, never seen Silas's pupils so dark as he repeatedly swung his fist into the man’s face.

The enslaved Mages began to cheer, the first sign of life any of them had shown thus far, and as the man beneath Silas went to grasp the dagger secured at his side, Silas snatched his arm, wrenching it back until it made a loud crack.

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