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The giddiness from that day, when I got a moment to play, threatens to come back and I hesitate. But I refuse to return to the prince who threatens me with kisses and cuddles instead of the dungeons. I have been chained up, starved, beaten, and fed from. I know how to dissociate during those events, so they don’t bother me. But the affection…no. It confuses me. I don’t know how I am supposed to feel or handle it, especially when my mortal enemy is initiating it!
Muffled voices echo down the hall and I duck into the shadows of an alcove. A massive male with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes drags a much smaller woman with long, tangled black hair toward the doors directly across from me. His large hand covers most of her face as she tries to scream out.
Every unsettling emotion and the chaos of thoughts slip behind the mask of calm I have used throughout the years. My muscles become languid, and my focus settles solely on the target.
I watch as she scratches at his arms, holding her in place. He doesn’t notice any of it. He is more worried about keeping her quiet, which incites anger to peek through the calm at the sight of her bruises and bite marks that mar her exposed skin. I won’t allow him to get away with it.
He wrestles the door open and pulls her into the darkness beyond it. Pushing away from the wall, I run straight for them and slide silently through the door behind his back while he struggles to get her under control. I pull the shadows around me and slink against the wall away from them, blending in so that I can observe before attacking.
He gives up trying to calm her and he slams the door shut, clicking the lock.
“You will behave!” he bellows at the withering figure.
Patience, Nyx.
I allow the anticipation to flow through every limb and fuel the pent-up energy needed to take down this beast of a male. He is easily two heads taller than me. I must be strategic about how I take him on, so he doesn’t get his massive hands on me.
As he stalks toward her, I track his movements in the weak moonslight from the window, and a plan takes form. I can finish this in a few swift movements. If I make them quick enough, he won’t have the opportunity to stop me.
Waiting until he looms over her, I run up behind him and kick the back of his knee hard enough that he falls forward. I quickly wrap my left arm around his thick throat and grasp onto my right bicep as I twist my free hand around the back of his head and push forward. He has no choice but to lean into the chokehold.
He tries to struggle, but the more he flails about, the tighter I hold on. Fortunately for me, his bulky frame keeps him from being able to rip me away before my job is done. I wrap my legs around his waist and hold on for dear life as he stands and spins in circles, trying to dislodge me. Even when he slams against a wall repeatedly, I hold firm.
It feels like hours before he slumps to the floor due to oxygen restriction. But the small glimpses of elation I catch on the woman’s face make it all worth it. It helps me remain strong even as my muscles scream for relief.
His knees hit the ground first with a bone-jarring thud. If I let up before he stops moving, all my hard work will be for nothing.
It isn’t until he falls forward that I finally let go. I stand over his prone form, staring, struggling to breathe, and waiting for the rest of my plan to come to me. What do I do now? I am in the fucking castle! His dead body will be found faster than all the others. And Felix would know that it was me.
Can’t have that. There is a window in here. This is precisely what I wanted. To kill. I mean…I didn’t plan for the body…or the witness to see what I am truly capable of. No matter. Things are done. And now I must decide what to do with him. My mind says to pound on him until he explodes, to be messy with it and bathe in his blood. I just need something heavy and big enough to help achieve that kind of destruction.
“What…is he dead?” the female asks carefully, shaking me from my blood-thirsty thoughts.
“Not yet.” Inspiration hits me fast and hard. Maybe this one isn’t mine. This is the first time that one of the victims has been around.
I turn to face her to gauge how she would handle such violence. She shows no signs of fear from me or the unconscious body. It is almost like there is a glimmer of a spark right below the surface where her heart should reside.
Promising.
“What is your name?” I demand.
“Franny.”
“How long have you served that monster?” The anger hikes up another notch, leaving me feeling restless once more.
“Ten years.” She hangs her head and fidgets with her fingers. I step up to her, rest one hand on her thin shoulders, and use the other to force her chin up so that I can look into her eyes.
“Do you want revenge?” Her eyes widen, and I know deep down in my heart that this is the right decision.
“I… I have never hurt someone before.”
“There is a first time for everything. But if you are uncomfortable doing this, I will take care of everything.”
“Take care…of it?” she squeaks. For a second, she seems confused. But then a light of hope has them transforming them into globes of passion. “You will let ME… kill him?”
“It rightfully belongs to you.”
She pulls away from me and begins searching the room with an urgency that matches the one in my soul. It doesn’t take her long to find something she is satisfied with. It is some sort of statue of a lady holding a vase.
