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“You’re choosing those false gifts over doing what’s right.”
“What’s right?” He bared his teeth and stopped again. “What’s right is doing whatever it takes to exist. It’s not weakness that makes us comply but strength, don’t you see? Now shut up and surrender that temper of yours. If you go to Sir V with this much attitude, I dread to think what he’ll do to you.”
My heart lodged in my throat as I tripped beside him.
My bare feet padded over stone slabs. Rock walls bracketed us as we passed by oversized sconces with fairies hanging from them, their wings shredded and petal dresses ruined, signifying the destruction I was about to face.
I tugged on Peter’s hand again, struggling to breathe, desperate to run. “Stop. Wait. You’re going too fast.”
“We’re late. I told you that.” He squeezed my fingers and kept pulling me down the achingly long corridor. Doors lined like sentries, all of them closed. No natural light touched us, and the flickering shadows of the sconces made it seem as if I walked to my execution.
Every few metres, a guard watched us pass with a cold narrowing of their eyes. They had guns, but…if we worked together, couldn’t we commandeer one and overpower them?
“Why don’t you revolt?” I asked quietly, clamping my hand on his cuffed wrist, trying to slow him down. “If there are so many slaves, why not organise an uprising?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Your imagination is going to get you in trouble.”
“Or get us out of here.”
“You can’t take a step they don’t approve of, and it’s not just the guards ensuring we stay in-line.” Glowering up the corridor where another two guards waited for us to march past, he stopped for the third time and hooked his finger into the heavy collar around my neck. “I stopped Kirk before he could finish the rules, but…somewhere around the ninth or tenth instruction is this one: you can’t run because the collar works like those farm dog invisible fences. You get too close to a boundary, and you get zapped. You’re unconscious before you even realise what happened.”
“They’re electrified?” I gulped. “But—”
“You can’t escape while wearing the collar, and under no circumstances are you to try to take it off. You do, and you die. I’ve seen it. I’ve smelled the flesh sizzling from those who thought they could escape.” Pulling me toward him, his minty breath fanned over my lips. “Want to know what happens?”
I shook my head, my stomach turning inside out.
He told me anyway.
“They’re burned from the inside out.” He sighed heavily. “You’ll soon learn that if you don’t obey a Master or don’t move quick enough, you’re made to without them lifting a finger.” He let me go. “Until you’ve writhed on the ground with fire in your blood, you won’t understand why the very thought of an uprising fills us all with terror.”
He shuddered and grabbed my hand again. “Now, come on.”
My pulse pounded as he dragged me farther and farther until we entered the huge, echoey foyer again. My eyes instantly searched for Henri despite my loathing.
No one.
The vast hall remained empty apart from the salacious tapestries.
“This way.” Peter pulled me across the stunning tiles, past the entwined staircases, and through more rooms dripping with brocade, gild-work, and decadent silver wallpaper. Intricately carved fireplaces gaped like portals into hell, just waiting to devour screaming sacrifices.
The farther we travelled, the more sunlight kissed us until we stepped through glass doors pushed open like a folding fan, inviting the morning to tumble into the stone-trapped castle.
I froze on the threshold.
The temptation to rub my eyes and see if this was all some kind of twisted fairytale overwhelmed me. “W-What is this place?”
Peter smiled. “A slap to your senses, isn’t it? The most beautiful gardens you’ll ever see full of the worst kinds of beasts.” He didn’t tug me forward, letting me drink in the splendour.
The imposing ten-metre-high walls, with their parapets and patrolling guards, cocooned us in all directions. The castle, with its spires, gargoyles, and chimney stacks, sprawled nonchalantly throughout the most surreal, almost fantastical space.
To the left, a marble patio stretched as far as the eye could see, complete with tables, chairs, and black umbrellas to shield breakfast goers from the strong new day sun. Waitstaff darted between guests, wafting the scents of coffee and sweet pastries. The patio spilled onto grass so perfectly green and so faultlessly mowed, it looked fake. It spread like a living carpet into the distance where hedges as tall as houses loomed, carved into animals with clever pruning. A bird in full flight, its wings casting shadows on the manicured green. A horse in mid-gallop, frozen in time. A panda squatting like a stuffed toy, chewing on a bamboo stick.
Snaking around each of the hedges and skirting the edge of the wall, a grey running track beckoned to slap against pounding sneakers and grant an illusion of freedom. Two girls pushed themselves, running with fists clenched and sweat gleaming. Their tight sports bras and running shorts revealed their figures in shocking pink and green Lycra.
Three men lounged in deck chairs like spectators around the track, sipping on drinks and pointing out attributes of the girls as they sprinted past.
One undid his trousers and pulled out his cock, stroking it in full view of everyone. Snapping his fingers, another girl standing leashed to his deck chair dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth.
