She nods once more, her eyes big and brown. Part of me doesn’t want to leave her in here, but she’s committed two imprisonable offences and she’s under investigation for attempting to break into the Vault, so I cannot have her roaming free. I cannot risk the safety of my people just because I want to sleep with her.
But holy shit, do I want to sleep with her.
Chapter8
Apple Pie (Renna)
Rexxan is untying me. Is it strange to say I’m a little disappointed? But I’m glad I’ll have freedom to move around in my cell.
This encounter with Rexxan in the prison cell has only confused me more. I've seen so many personalities from him that I can no longer decipher what is real. Knowing what he is like, I imagine none of them are real. He thinks I’m stupid, but I’m fine with that.
An underestimated woman is a lethal weapon.
He finishes untying me and turns me back around to face him. My pulse hikes against my will every time my eyes land on his. They’re spectacular, deep orange with flecks of auburn and gold, and his lips...I lean in closer, wanting to be nearer him for reasons I'm not even going to try to understand. Copper eyes meet mine, running down my face slowly.
Holyfuck, the sexual tension in this cell is insane. But we can't. Not just because I'm not an immortal, but because it wouldn't work logistically. I'm five foot five, he's whatever he is, and probably two hundred and fifty pounds. It can't happen. But I'm only human, blessed with an overactive imagination, and I do love to imagine how it would feel to be taken by him.
"Are you going to kiss me?" I pause, in denial that that sentence I’d just heard had come from me. Did I just say that? Ididjust say that.Nice.
He laughs, but it’s cold, and I’m suddenly being spun around by two giant hands. He pulls my body flush with his and all I can do is hope and pray that he didn’t hear the quiet moan that escaped my lips.
"I don’t like to be gentle, Renna. You have me all wrong."
My brain is scrambled. One giant hand snakes around my neck, forcing my head back to look at him as my back presses harder into his chest. I’m at his mercy, a puppet in his hands. I need him. I needthis. Finally, after days of imagining, I’ll know what it is to have his lips on mine.
"Apple pie."
"What?" I breathe, confused. This conversation has taken a disappointing U-turn.
"Apple pie. My favourite food. Behave, Renna, or I'll put your brother’s corpse in this cell with you."
When I turn around, he’s gone and I am locked in a cell once more, kept company only by my racing heartbeat and the lingering scent of leather and red wine.
* * *
Slowly,I watch the days turn into weeks. And as they slip through my fingers, so does my composure, the rope that tethers me to my sanity fraying at the edges. I've been locked up before, and this brings back haunting memories of a small dirty child hidden away in a wardrobe.
Onyx visits me every single day, pleading my release with the guards, trying to meet with the King, who we are told is busy solving some kind of big issue. My dislike grows for him each day that I spend counting the fucking bricks on the wall.
"No." I whisper, as Onyx arrives one day having smuggled a metal bottle in his cloak. "No, Onyx. I'm not doing that in here."
"What do you want me to say? I'm spending twelve hours a day trying to get you out of here, but it’s not working."
"I can't do that in here," I repeat, backing away from him until I feel the thud of my back against the stone bricks behind me. He grasps my face in his hands, tipping my head from side to side, inspecting me closely.
"Your eyes aren't glowing yet. We can wait another day, but you know that’s not wise."
"I can't do it in here. There are no healers."
"I don't want you to do it in here either, but what is the alternative?"
This isn't like me. I'm normally so composed, but I'm going insane here. And now this. I hold the metal bottle, staring at the green drink that I love and hate so much. It does so much for me, but it strips so much away.
"Please, no. I'm not drinking it this time."
"Do you mean that?" He asks, gently.
I have no choice. I have never had a choice, only the cruel illusion of one. Tantalising and tempting, but an illusion all the same. I shake my head, pulling the cork once the guards on shift have passed on patrol. Onyx forces the last of it down my throat and I lie down on the stone bench in my cell with a wooden stick between my teeth to keep me quiet.
