Page 136 of Mystic's Sunrise

I sat frozen, watching the door close behind the woman and the children, unease blooming in my gut. Something wasn’t right.

I didn’t know who they were or why they moved like ghosts through this place, but I knew what it felt like to be owned.

And she wore that look like a second skin.

***

AS SOON ASwe got back, I was locked in his room.

The door was solid wood, two locks, and no windows in the room like I was some kind of rare animal too valuable to risk. He didn’t tie me down or drag me to a basement. He didn’t need to. I was his possession. His prize, and prizes don’t get left unattended.

I sat on the edge of the bed, barely breathing, my fingers curled tight around the blanket. The fabric dug into my palms like thorns. Voices drifted through the thin walls—rough laughter, boots stomping across the floorboards, the occasional slam of a door. Noise that meant Drago was busy. Out. Handling business. That was the only reason I had room to think, to breathe without his shadow crawling over my skin.

A creak splintered the quiet of the room.

I froze.

The door.

It wasn’t time. Drago had only just left and he was never quiet when he came into the room.

My spine went rigid, a thousand invisible needles digging into my skin. I stared at the sliver of light under the door as ashape moved across it—slow, cautious. Not heavy enough to be one of the men. Not careless enough either.

Then—soft, breathless—came a voice.

“Zeynep?”

Everything inside me stopped.

That voice. My heart seized, then lurched forward so violently it made me dizzy.

Lucy.

The door cracked open, just enough for a shadow to slip through. My eyes strained in the low light, adjusting. When I finally saw her—really saw her—my body flooded with something wild and terrible. Relief. Fear. Love.

She was here.

God help her, she was actually here.

She closed the door behind her without a sound, pressing her back to it and holding a finger to her lips.

Don’t speak.

She moved across the room fast and silent, crouching in front of me, her breath shaky, her hands finding mine. They were cold. Trembling.

“I’m getting you out,” she whispered, voice trembling with urgency. “Right now.”

I gripped her wrist, hard. “No,” I breathed. “You can’t be here—he’ll see you. They’ll see you.”

Her eyes lit with a fire I didn’t share. “I don’t care. I knocked out the guard at the back. The door’s open. I don’t know how long it’ll stay that way. We only have a few minutes. We have to move now.”

I shook my head, panic clawing its way up my throat. “It’s not like last time. They’re watching more now. They know—”

“Idon’tcare,” she hissed. “We go, Zeynep. Move your ass. Please.”

I nodded slowly, limbs already tensing, readying for the sprint even if my heart screamed in protest. I stood.

And that’s when we heard it.

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