Page 5 of Reign of Betrayal

I wake in my cell,my head throbbing. The rough straw pokes into my skin, and the chill from the stone bed seeps into me. I squint against the dim light, trying to gather my bearings.

“Oh, good. You’re awake.”

Swinging my upper body into a sitting position, I see the brown-haired woman with gleaming golden eyes sitting on the bed opposite of me, her back against the wall.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to fight,” she says, raising her hands in mocking surrender. “The guards thought it would be fun to stick us together.”

Of course they did.

“I’m Larah, or 6941, as they like to call me.” She tilts her head, studying me. “I have never seen anyone with lavender-colored eyes before.”

“I’m Reign.” The words stumble out awkwardly from my mouth as I shift uncomfortably. I have also never seen anyone with lavender eyes or hair.

Larah’s gaze lingers on me—curious, unblinking. I fidget under her scrutiny, unsure what to say, and finally drop my legs off the side of the bed, sitting up fully.

“What you in for?” she asks, her eyes scanning me like she’s assessing whether I’m friend or foe.

I scoff. “What areyouin for?” I keep my tone clipped, short.

She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together as she stares at the dirty stone floor.

“I killed a royal guard after they attacked me and killed my husband. I have been here over a year, maybe two now. I don’t know anymore.” She looks up, expectant.

When I don’t respond, she just blankly stares at me. Her golden-orbed gaze is unsettling.

“Same,” I mutter. “The royal guards came in the night—tried to kill me after they killed my husband.”

The weight of the past night crashes down on me, making every part of my body throb. I glance at the blood-streaked tunic clinging to me, and my chest tightens.

Larah, or 6941, whatever her name is, notices my reaction—her expression flickers with guilt.

“Sorry about that. It would have been worse for you if I didn’t draw blood.”

Reaching up, I feel a crack in my lip, and my nose is sore to touch.

“Have any kids?” she asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

“Thank the Gods and Goddesses, no,” I reply. The thought alone makes my stomach unsettled. I couldn’t imagine having children during a time like this.

Larah’s expression softens, something like understanding flickering in her eyes.

“I don’t either. I was pregnant but...” Her words trail off.

I sit there in silence, giving her space to share or not, letting her work through her thoughts.

“A few moons ago,” she continues, her voice distant, “a guard knocked me up. When he realized it… Well, he made sure it wasn’t an issue anymore.”

Double burning hells.

I shudder.

Was it consensual?

Forced?

I cannot imagine going through that. The thought of it makes my skin crawl.

Hells, will I have to go through that?

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