Page 83 of The Devil In Blue
“Briar—”
“Because you hated me? Because you wanted to torment me?”
“When you disappeared, all I had was a letter in your handwriting telling me never to look for you. Telling me that you wanted to be mortal after I gave you everything. When I found you, yes, I had every intention of punishing you until the end of your days just to show you an ounce of the pain I felt when you abandoned me.”
He moved closer and as soon as I tried to run, he shoved the door closed with a loud clash. As I suspected, there was no handle on the inside. I clawed at the slick wood for a second before moving away as quickly as I could, retreating to the opposite side of the bed.
“You said no more lies,” I said.
“I did not lie. When I brought you here, this room was forgotten. I couldn’t bring myself to lock you in here, even before I knew the whole truth of your disappearance.”
“Let me out of here.” I was starting to feel an all too familiar rhythm in my heartbeat. It was dizzyingly fast and panicked.
“Briar—”
“Open the door!”
Next to me was a dresser and on it was a thick, glass vase. I grabbed it. I would have grabbed anything, but I was lucky it was a heavy vase. I threw it straight at Rune, hoping to hit him in the head. He effortlessly slapped it aside with his hand and it shattered against the stone wall. He marched forward, molten eyes focused on me.
“Listen to me.”
I climbed quickly over the bed to avoid him and felt his hands grip the hem of the oversized coat. Once I was on the other side, I slid out of it and tossed it over his head, blinding him for a split second. Without thinking, I grabbed one of the manacles and slapped it over his wrist before backing up against the wall. Rune tossed the coat away and got to his knees on the mattress, panting with frustration. His eyes settled on me for a moment before he looked down at his cuffed wrist and he huffed out a humorless laugh.
“You’re being irrational,” he said.
“My mind is clear for once. You said I deserved freedom.”
“I chose not to lock you in here!”
“But it was your intention! No matter what you thought I’d done, you are the kind of man to lock a woman away like this? To take her choices from her?”
He stepped off the bed toward me and by the length of his arm, I knew that if he reached out, he could touch me. I reacted without thought again and slammed my open palm across his cheek. His head snapped to the side and he stilled, but I was certain that the fire kissing my palm was more than the pain I’d inflicted on him. He slowly turned his gaze back on me, his expression dark and sharp as knives.
His eyes grew brighter when he met my stare and I wanted to will myself through the wall and out of that room. Terror invaded me like a million needles across my skin and I could hardly breathe through it.
“Again,” he hissed.
Brows furrowed, I regarded him with confusion and failed to move. My hand was still tingling and not even a red mark had appeared on his face. My assault didn’t affect him at all. Not physically at least.
He inched forward, finding the limits of the short chain, and tugged on the links loudly, startling me.
“Again!” he repeated.
I jolted and reacted immediately, my other hand swiping toward him and hitting him across the other cheek. He dropped to his knees beside the bed, his cuffed hand relaxed against the restraint in surrender. I stared down at him, unable to decipher the emotions flitting across his face. Both of my hands were stinging and my body was trembling with rage and fear, but then I realized that I was not the one trapped. I was not the one locked in chains and screaming and begging helplessly. He was.
My hatred for all the years I was a prisoner, both in a cell and within myself, overflowed into a tidal wave of action and I hit him again. Harder.
I didn’t even recognize myself when I lunged forward, wrapping both hands around his throat and driving him onto the bed. I knew his strength far outweighed mine, but he allowed me to feel in control and fell under my weight. Stradling him, I reached for the second cuff and locked it around his other wrist only to stare down at the man beneath me. He was beautiful. Strong.
A liar.
Restrained and at my mercy. Powerless.
A king and a would-be captor.
My lip twitched with the urge to take out all of those frustrations on his pretty body. I saw his throat, exposed to me when he lifted his chin. It bobbed when he swallowed and I mimicked him, gulping down a swell of desires that had suddenly surfaced upon seeing him cuffed and disarmed.
“What are you waiting for?” he said, jerking against the chains. I jumped but stayed put, watching him. Trying to find answers to my puzzled thoughts. “I wasn’t there for you,” he continued. “When they were hurting you. When they were tearing into your mind and making you forget me. Forget yourself. I wasn’t there, Briar.” My eyes burned with threatening tears, but I refused to let them fall. “And then I was going to lock you in here like an animal and force you to see the pain you’d caused me without a thought to what you’ve been enduring all these years.”
