Page 15 of Reign of Betrayal

She pisses me off when she does stuff like this.

Cora knows I hate when she comes to my room. My room is my own, and I never let her in here. It is something I never have to share unless I want to, and I don’t want to share it with her or anyone. It’s my sanctuary. My personal place of peace. Looking around, I take it all in.

My chamber radiates an aura as dark and formidable as my own fractured soul. The black walls loom like silent wraiths—swallowing all light and hope. The black stone fireplace contradicts my cold and heartless nature. A slender black desk and muted shelves mirror the hollowness inside of me. In my shadowed sanctuary, even the flames dance in the shades of darkness. It’s all a reflection of the brokenness within me and the darkness that haunts me. It’s a killer’s lair—smothered in the echoes of my past sins and the shadows I command.

It’s the perfect muted room for a dark prince.

“You two! 7296 and 4682.” Elm and I look up from our trays to see the guard in his brown guard’s uniform. “Let’s go.” The guard’s tone is rushed—demanding.

“Go where?” Elm questions, his brows hitch together with concern.

“Now, inmates.” The guard’s tone is full of irritation.

We look at each other. This isn’t good, but we know what we are most likely walking into. Defiance laces my face as I slam my hands down on the table. Larah places a hand over mine and shakes her head, narrowing her eyes at me. I huff and shove my tray away, standing up as Elm does the same.

We follow the guard through the halls and locked doors until we get to one of the back rooms. Once we enter we’re left with three different guards, all with flasks in their hands. The smell of alcohol rolls off them, tainting the air.

Great.

Elm folds his arms, widens his stance, then lets out an irritated sigh. He knows what is to come as well as I do. Only three guards though… stupid of them. Elm and I could flatten this room in a matter of minutes if we wanted to, but who knows how long we would get sent to the hole again. I shudder just thinking of my last stretch of time in the hole.

One of the guards is big—bigger than Elm, and that’s saying something since Elm towers over most. We aren’t given enough food to bulk up, but I’m sure if Elm had a normal diet, he would be as thick as he is tall. Despite being malnourished he still has some bulk to his muscles.

“Strip. 4682, you are going to fuck her.” Elm looks at me, disbelief in his eyes, while the guards start to undo their belt buckles—the sound making me sick to my stomach.

“She isn’t exactly my type,” Elm says coolly, chuckling.

I still have not made any move to take off my clothes. This is different. They have never made us do… this. Usually, they pull one or two of us in the back where they do what they want and send us back, when they are finished.

“I said strip, now!” the guard screams, spit flying from his mouth, while he snaps a whip in the air. Its threatening sound echoes around us, making the hair on the back of my neck stand, while a shiver snakes down my spine. The other two guards laugh like this situation is funny.

Elm steps close to me and whispers, “I can’t. I can’t put you through it.”

“Just do it. I am used to them doing this.”

“Them—not me. I won’t.”

Thinking long and hard, I am unsure how to get out of this or what to do to save Elm.

I start to unbutton my oh-so-comfy gray tunic, hands trembling, yet my breath is steady. I am used to this. When I have some pig sweating on top of me, I take my mind elsewhere—to the brook between the Shadowed Forest and lavender fields, where my father used to take me before he died. It is one of my fondest memories. He would show me different plants and their uses, or take me to the theater. We couldn’t afford tickets, so we would sit outside and listen to the music.

Elm reaches over and grabs my hand, stopping me from pulling my top off. “We aren’t doing this.”

He is right—we can’t, but I have no idea how to save us from this. Maybe I can get the attention on me somehow.

“If you don’t, you will both get whipped and have to do it anyway. Maybe some time in the hole will keep you from being defiant, or maybe the tub?” the guard retorts, slurring his words and looking at the guard holding the whip, who nods in agreement.

“Strip!”

I immediately remove my tunic and use my arm to cover my chest. Elm just stands there with a feral look on his face.

“Just fucking doing it, Elm,” I plead. My voice is dripping with panic. They will certainly hurt him for this. If he just strips, I will try to get their attention on me.

“Fine! Have it your way.” The guard with the whip nods in our direction, and the other two guards head toward us. “Fight, and she gets it worse than you.”

Elm huffs as the two guards grip him on either side and force him to his knees. They bend him over, palms on the stone floor. The guard with the whip reels his arm back and slashes it along Elm’s back, splitting Elm’s tunic, tearing through his flesh. Blood splatters around us in tiny droplets.

“Stop! Stop this!” I scream. If they are going to hurt him anyway, I might as well try to protect him. I go to attack the massive guard with the whip, but the other two leave Elm’s side and grab me. One guard slams me to the ground. My teeth hit the inside of my cheek. I immediately taste blood, the familiar metallic warmth filling my mouth. I spit it out of my mouth toward the guard’s boots. The guard that slammed me, places his knee in the center of my back pinning me to the ground a few feet away from Elm, who is still on his hands and knees.

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