Page 63 of Fury

“Give her a cage for the evening,” Marek orders the guard holding me.

He moves quickly toward an empty cage to the left of the room. I squirm, but it doesn’t matter what I do; I’m not strong enough to escape. I yell and curse, kick and twist, but I’m powerless. He thrusts me inside and slams the door closed, locking it. The mesh is not large enough to fit my arm through, and even if it was, they’re key locked. I’d never escape. I kick the sides of the cage, the grass cold beneath my bottom as I try desperately to break free.

“I wouldn’t bother,” a voice comes from the cage beside me. “You’ll never escape.”

I shuffle and turn, staring over at the girl who spoke to me.

Her cage is fairly close to mine, and she’s sitting in the corner, her feet stretched out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. From beneath the dim light hanging on top of this tent, I can see that she is exceptionally beautiful. The kind of beauty that makes it so foreign to see her sitting in a cage. She looks like she belongs on a throne, in a time where men would bow to her feet.

Long locks of white, blond hair fall over her shoulder, tied loosely. Her skin, soft and pale, only accentuates her beauty. Her eyes, when she glances over at me, are the lightest of blue, a shade I’ve never seen on another human before. Her lips are full and a dark shade of red, making it look like she’s wearing makeup. She’s petite and small, just a tiny little thing.

There is something about her that makes it hard to look away.

She certainly doesn’t look like a drug addict or someone living a life of crime.

So why is she here?

“What is happening here?” I whisper to her, shuffling over to the side of the cage, my heart racing.

“What is happening is the devil has risen and is using girls to make a show,” she murmurs.

The devil being Marek.

“How long have you been here?”

She pushes her bottom lip out and shrugs. “A week, maybe two. I don’t know.”

“I’m Alexis,” I tell her.

“I’m Ellie, and yes, before you ask, my parents through it would be fantastic to make my middle name Mae.”

I can’t help but smile, because it’s a ridiculously adorable name but I can understand why she doesn’t seem pleased about it.

“Well, Ellie, I like it.”

She huffs. “What are you here for? Drugs? Stealing? He always has a reason.”

I shake my head. “He killed my abusive husband and is using me to get money off someone who owes him. If they don’t come for me, I’m toast.”

She studies me, her eyes roaming up and down. “No, you’re pretty enough for him to use. He keeps the pretty ones for the shows.”

I stare at her, horrified. “He keeps them. What do you mean?”

“He trains them, like circus monkeys. Out there every day until they learn what he wants, if they refuse or aren’t good enough, they get punished. If that doesn’t work, he sells them off for cash.”

My mouth drops open.

What kind of sick, twisted monster?

“What about you?” I dare to ask.

“I’m a dancer. A good one, too. He happened to stumble across me dancing and decided he wanted me for his fucking act. Not to mention, he was drawn to the way I look. The man is trying to break me, but he’s not going to win. I will not be broken, and I will not dance for him. I’m tough, so he can try his best.”

She sounds tough, she certainly doesn’t look it, though.

Looks can be incredibly deceiving.

I can see why he is drawn to her, though. It’s hard not to be. She is so incredibly ... unique.

---