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“Sorry.” It’s a reflex. Someone goes predatory still, then whirls and comes right at you, you try anything you can to defuse it. I hold up my hands. They're trembling. “I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t care.
He grabs at his waist. I’m really, really hoping that he’s not reaching for the sword at his hip. It’s a small relief that he snatches the diamond-covered glove hanging off his belt instead. He jams his hand inside, not even bothering to pull on the second one. I guess, since I’m a human, one’s all he needs to handle me.
Saxon unlocks the cell door easily. The furious look on his face has me backing up until my legs bump into the cot. Angry heat comes off of him in waves, slamming right into me. It doesn’t burn, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me.
Sweat beads up along my hairline. Before I can even try to wipe it off, Saxon lashes his gloved hand out, gripping me bruisingly tight along my upper arm.
I squeak out a protest. He doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he drags me toward the open cell door. He’s careful not to hit the iron bars as he pushes me through, then kicks the door closed with his boot.
“What are you doing?” I gasp out, trying not to struggle as he pulls me behind him. The diamonds are rough-cut and they’re digging into my arm. If he doesn’t loosen his grip, he’s going to slice me to ribbons. “I said I was sorry.”
“If you’re brave enough to throw fruit at a guard, maybe you need a reminder that we control Siúcra. Not the prisoners.”
That doesn’t sound good. Especially since, if Rys can pull off his plan, it’ll go to prove that us prisoners might have found a way to beat the system.
Can’t let him know that, though. I had one job and I have to make sure that I did it right.
“Where are you taking me?”
Saxon glances over his shoulder, a cruel smile tugging on his lush lips. “I think you know.”
When he makes a sharp turn and the smooth floor becomes a dirt path, I realize he’s right. I do know exactly where he’s bringing me.
Welp. Looks like I got what I wanted.
It’s brighter in this wing than it was last time—and the torches aren’t even lit yet. I figure it’s because it’s still early now and, before, when Dusk snuck into my cell, he did so under the cover of night.
Peeking up, I see the tiniest windows dotting the stone ceiling. It’s the first patch of natural sunlight I’ve seen since I was locked up. I take that as a good sign. Didn’t Rys say he was stronger during the day?
No wonder he told me to make my move as soon as I was awake...
The sunlight doesn’t make the wooden door with its iron handle any less foreboding. I start dragging my heels a little as we approach. Saxon yanks on my arm—I bite my lip to keep from grunting in pain—and he doesn’t let go until we’re right in front of the door.
Because of the glove, he can reach for the iron without being affected by it, just like how he can touch my bare skin without being burned. It’s gotta be heavy as hell, but he swings the door open as easily as the one to my cell before gesturing toward the open hole hidden behind the door.
“Get in, human. Jump.”
I slide my boots to the edge, gulping at the pitch-black depths that fill the space. I know from experience that it’s about ten feet down before I hit the circle directly below. The oubliette widens past that, and the thick straw covering the dirt floor will break some of my fall.
I was super fucking lucky to avoid breaking any bones the first time I was tossed inside. Will I get that lucky twice? I really hope so.
This is what I’m supposed to do, I remind myself. One last jump and, if this all works out, I’ll never have to deal with the prison or its guards or the terrifying pit ever again.
You can do this, Helen.
I have to do this.
A soft clink-ing sound makes me wince. I dare a peek behind me, noticing that Saxon has rested his palm against the hilt of his sword. The diamonds sewn into the glove hits the golden metal curve.
The warning is super obvious. Either I jump on my own or he’ll make me.
“I said go,” he orders again. “And hope I’ve forgotten the slight by the time I return to retrieve you.”
Yup. Another warning. With apple pulp still in his hair and a bite to his tone, I decide that I better do what he says. As mad as I’ve made him, I think I’m getting off easy here.
At least he’s letting me jump. The other Seelie guard shoved me and the unexpected free-fall into darkness was almost as terrifying as realizing that Dusk was going to force me to touch him. The landing? That was worse.
