Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I’m thirsty. So thirsty.
A moan escapes me as I look ahead, noticing thick black bars. A gasp bursts out of me, and I sit upright.
“No.” I thought it was a dream.
I thought I was imagining what’d happened in Caz’s office.
The Council appearing.
Vassilis with his cold hands wrapped around me and a blade to my throat.
The hopelessness in Caz’s eyes when he realized his own hands were tied.
I work to swallow as I climb off the mattress and rush toward the bars. I’m in a cell—a prisoner’s cell, it seems. My teeth chatter, and my bare feet feel like slabs of ice.
I turn back around, facing the wall made of wet black bricks and the single bed made of wood with a thin, feather-stuffed mattress.
There’s a window about the size of a laptop above the bed. Water drips from the bottom ledge and lands in a puddle on the floor. I rush toward it and step on the mattress to peer outside.
There is nothing but snowcapped mountains with sharp tips cutting into the sky. The wind howls as it passes, birds flying frantically to reach warmth. I stand on my toes to see a bit lower, but all I can make out is the outside of the stone building I’m in. There’s nothing but snow and a frozen river beyond it.
I lower back down and try to tap in with Caz.
Caz? Can you hear me? I’m fine…I’m in a prisoner’s cell I think, but I’m fine.
The words echo. I try again, but this time they bounce back to me.
“No, come on. Tell me you can hear me, Caz,” I groan.
“He can’t hear you,” a gravelly voice says.
I gasp, spinning around to face the prison bars.
“Who’s there?” I demand.
Something scuffs along the ground, and I realize the voice is coming from the cell across from me. To my relief, Killian appears. His lip is busted, and a dark purple bruise circles his left eye.
“Gotta say, Willow. I’ve dealt with a lot of shit, but I’ve never been locked up in a damn ice box.” His voice is gruff, like he too is thirsty. I almost didn’t recognize it.
I want to smile, simply for the fact that someone I know and trust is here with me, but I can’t. “Killian, I’m so sorry you’re here,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m sorry you’re mixed up in all this mess with The Council.”
“If I’d come back to the manor ten minutes later. They’d have never taken me, and I’d be helping Caz rectify this.” He sniffs, and a pang of guilt hits me. “But it’s a good thing I didn’t. Someone has to be around to take care of you. I don’t trust these silver-eyed fucks.”
I smile as Killian smirks. “Thank you. Really.”
“Caz won’t hear you,” he says, disregarding my thanks. “I heard them talking when I came to. They’ve restrained your mind and your thoughts. They want to make sure he doesn’t hear you, or that he doesn’t find a way to break us out of here. They want him completely cut off from you because not knowing what’s happening to you makes him desperate. And knowing him, he’ll do anything to get you back. Anything.”
“Oh.” I press my lips and lower my gaze. “How long was I asleep for?”
“Two days.”
“Two days?” I repeat. “How? I thought it was only a couple hours.”
“No. Days.”
Days? I don’t understand how that’s possible. It seems like what happened at the manor with The Council was only yesterday. I start to ask Killian something else but a clunking noise carries through the hallway.
Killian stands taller, peering through the bars, trying to find where the noise is coming from.
I look with him, and though I can’t see anything, I hear footsteps coming closer. They’re light and slow, as if the person has no worries and is in absolutely no rush.
“Ah. Good. You’re awake.” Arie appears, stopping on the strip between our cells with a cool smile. “I do apologize for having you stowed away in here. We had to be sure Monarch Harlow didn’t turn around. Turns out he’s only about twenty minutes from Inferno Isle.”
Neither Killian nor I say a thing. We simply stare at Arie—Killian with a grimace and fire in his eyes, and me with burning curiosity.
“Anyway, you may be our prisoners, but we’re not savages. We’ve had two chambers prepared for you to stay in until your monarch has returned.”
Arie takes a grand step back, his eyes flashing silver. Just like that, the doors of our cells swing open with soft creaks.
I don’t move.
This feels like a trick—like if we step out, we’ll be melted by his eyes or something. My eyes flicker to Killian’s who clearly feels the same way because he hasn’t moved an inch.
“Oh, be serious,” Arie chuckles. “I have no desire to hurt you. Now come along,” he purrs, turning away. “Dinner will be ready soon.”