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Theo
Abead of sweat trickles down my brow as I force myself to rise from another sit-up. I’ve stopped counting my sets and do each movement until my body screams for me to stop, my muscles straining with effort. Exercise is the only thing that seems to put a dent in my growing anxiety.
Pushing up off the floor, I wipe my forehead with the back of my arm. My skin is grimy from not being able to bathe properly since being taken by this dreadful kingdom.
However, the general has not broken his word from a few days ago. No harm has come to me, unless you count being trapped in this cell all day. They still bring meals and water on schedule. This is not the treatment I was expecting from this vile kingdom. The horror stories and my training make me wary of their motives.
King Asher and his merry men of chaos left earlier, leaving only the captain to watch over me. He hasn’t stepped close to the cell bars since I broke his nose a few days ago.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I rub at the beard growing in. It’s rough on my fingers as I trace it. They don’t permit the younger men of the Lux guard to have facial hair, so this is the most I’ve ever had. It feels foreign against my skin, and I long to shave it off.
Slipping out of my borrowed clothes, I pull on a pair of shorts, forgoing a shirt for bed. I prefer to sleep in my undergarments, but with someone always on watch, that would be awkward. The stack of clothes provided by King Asher upon my arrival only has one outfit left, and I wonder if it means my time here is ending. Either they have worked out a deal with King Leopold for my return, or I’ll die at the same hands who killed my men.
I go through my evening stretches, hoping they will help me relax. My muscles are almost as tense as my nerves. I’m used to heavily regulated training that clears my mind and steadies my soul. Without it, I can’t seem to calm my racing thoughts, especially tonight. I feel as if I can’t take a deep breath, as though something’s restricting the air.
Shouting comes from the hallway and the captain stiffens, his chest rises and falls rapidly, seemingly startled by the abrupt intrusion. Pain hits my chest and the knot in my stomach twists. The yelling becomes louder as if a floodgate has opened. I hear the sound of rushed footsteps heading down the hall.
“Hiram, get Loma now!” The captain’s face pales, and I can see his lips plead the wordnobefore he sprints away.
I hurry over to the bars of the cell and crane my neck to see what is happening. The quick thuds of boots on the black stone fill the space, and a groan follows the sound.
The dark-haired guard supports the weight of the blonde guard with an arm over his shoulder. They limp down the hall, bruises and drying blood marking their faces. Whatever they got themselves into must have been bad.
“Marcus, Silas, what happened?” a feminine voice calls from down the hall. Then, an older woman with long, gray hair steps into view.
“We’ll be fine, Loma. But ...” the dark-haired guard says as he steps to the side, pulling the blonde one with him. The general hurries to the woman they call Loma.
His normally olive-toned skin is ashen and speckled with blood. A woman with curly, red hair hangs limp in his arms. Bright-red blood runs in lines from the woman’s head and down the general’s arm.
I blink, and I’m back in the meadow.Red curls matted with blood as Lily lies unmoving in my lap. Lily’s hair covering her face, much like this woman’s.I blink again, trying to clear the memory, but it digs in deeper, as if begging for me to watch it happen all over again. Red-stained daisies fill my vision. The ground and my clothes soaked in her blood.
So much blood.
“Lily ...” Her name is a whisper from my lips. I grip the bars tight, pleading with my mind to keep me here in the present. The general’s gaze snaps to mine. His gray eyes are bloodshot and frantic. Whoever this woman is, she means a great deal to him.
“Help, Loma. She won’t wake up,” the general’s voice trembles.
“How did this happen, Nyx?” Loma’s words sound like a scold. She pulls at the general’s arms to get a better look at the red-haired woman.
As Loma gently turns the woman’s red head, I can see bruises on her face. There’s a noticeable cut on her cheek and the start of a black eye. Her long, red hair falls over her shoulder as Loma inspects her injuries. There is an undeniable bruise around her neck. The distinct imprint of a large man’s hand around her throat. Fingers dug in so hard to leave their mark.
“She was behind us. He came out of the shadows and just attacked,” Nyx answers Loma with pain contorting his face.
The wordshadowssends fury through me.
This must be Asher’s work. The vicious shadow king.
Lux has well-documented King Asher’s brutality toward women. It’s the reason King Leopold doesn’t allow women in the Lux guard. Being tortured and killed is one thing, being violated is another. But the Umbra Brutus is king here, and these monsters bend to his will and clean up the mess when he’s through. I curse his name aloud, which earns me an odd look from both Loma and the general.
“Hiram, go get the physician and meet us in her chambers.” Loma gives orders like a seasoned commander. “Marcus, take Silas to my shop and I’ll be there shortly.”
Loma walks to the side of the general and cups the woman’s head with the gentleness of a mother. She nods, and they all hurry off out of sight.
I’m left alone to simmer in my anger and hatred for King Asher and his accomplices. They pass around women here as if they are nothing more than mugs of ale in a busy tavern. Everyone gets a taste until they’ve drained the last drop. Will they mend her only to use her again? I bet they will do exactly that.
I pace my cell, waiting for the guard to return so I can ask him about the woman. It feels like hours have passed before the familiar sound of his boots echoes down the hallway, and the brown-haired captain comes into view.
“Is she okay?” I ask, pushing myself against the iron bars.
