Page 28 of Beg the Night

Maybe.Honestly, death was starting to sound pretty damn peaceful.

I turned around and closed my eyes, letting the water hit my face.

My life had become unrecognizable since, one by one, everyone I loved had died. They would have protected me from this. They would have helped me figure out what to do. They’d have told these psychopaths that I didn’t have any powers.

My chest ached as I thought about them. I missed them all. Ridiculously, I even missed the way Mother would nag me about wearing my dirty boots in the house. I missed the way Father would pretend to scold me over it, only to wink at me behind her back. I missed the way Kylar would try to talk me down from my temper tantrums, the way Katherine would braid Jasmine’s hair before bed.

God, I missed all of it. Back then, I so often hated my life, the isolation, the way our parents sheltered us. Now, I realized how much they’d protected us. Had my parents known all along that this life was awaiting me? Had they known what would happen if the Ministry ever came for us? Is that why we’d lived in such isolation for all those years?

Tears stung my eyes, and for the first time since the day I buried Jasmine, I let them fall freely, allowing the hot water to whisk them away.

Even if I agreed to the claiming, then what? I wasn’t a mystic, so the ritual would do no good, right? Then where would I be? Dead, I was sure.

My chest tightened again, and I took a few long breaths to relieve the pain.

I was doing the right thing, wasn’t I? Resisting Sinner and defying the Ministry’s order was the honorable way to go about this. Though a small, itching sensation in my heart flared to life every time I thought of Margaret, every time I thought of massive, evil Sinner moving atop me, inside me—the repulsive new girl—just to save her.

I couldn’t forget that he’d also save himself by participating. The wholeprotect my sisterthing could have been an act.

With a shake of my head, I cleared my mind of all those thoughts. Then I quickly washed my hair and body. I shut the water off, and when I reached for my towel and clothes, I nearly died.

Because they were gone.

“Margaret?” I shouted, my heart hammering against my breastbone. “Margaret, my clothes are gone!”

Silence.

I peeked through the gap at the edge of the curtain, looking for the culprit, but the bathroom was empty. Eerily empty.

“Margaret!” I called out. The usual stash of extra clothes and towels had been cleared out.

Someone had come in here while I was showering and taken everything.

Yeah, I was never showering again. I couldn’t trust a single bastard in this dungeon.

Where the hell was Margaret?

Seriously. Stealing clothing like this? Were wetwelve? I’d understand a dungeon full of depraved men trying to see me naked if?—

It hit me then.

Those men wouldn’t do shit.

Not with Sinner here, terrifying them all with his presence alone.

Not even if I walked into that dungeon completely naked.

Dripping wet, pissed off, and totally over my friendship with Mags, I stormed out from behind the curtain.

Out of the bathroom.

And into the dungeon.

I’d never been ashamed of my body. I was hardly curvy, but my body was strong. It had hauled me through more shit than any one person should have to endure.

I was proud of my strength.

So I held my head high as I stood in the middle of the open space, scanning the dark underground for the so-calledfriendwho’d clearly abandoned me.

---