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How much had I endured in my life? I’d been through abuse, I’d dealt with pain, I’d handled it all and come out the other side. I’d looked after myself with no one there to help me. I’d ended up at the palace as anasset. I was better than this.
Stronger than this.
I wouldn’t let a cell get me down. Ren had said he’d come for me, and I had to trust that he would. Until then, I would do what I’d been taught. What I’d always done.
I would fight.
I would survive.
The darkness came first. It was nothing more than the sensation of clouds moving in front of the sun, and I didn’t notice it immediately. But then I started feeling more and more fear. The darkness and the fear went hand in hand.
Conjurite magic. I had to be more vigilant. I had to notice it sooner.
A lock turned in the door, and the large metal door swung open.
Zander stood in front of me.
I gasped when I saw him, my guard against the fear threatening to falter, but I stood, and I forced myself to be strong.
He smirked at me. “Hello,human.”
I didn’t respond to that. He was trying to use it as an insult.
“Rather human than what you are,” I said.
Zander looked surprised. “Cheeky. I don’t know if it will save you or get you killed.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
He chuckled. “Sure. For now.”
Dread filled me with those words, but I didn’t let it show. Under no circumstances would I let Zander know that I was terrified. I wouldn’t let him know I felt anything other than sheer boredom.
I leaned against the wall, forcing myself to look casual so that he didn’t know how on edge I was, how close I was to coming undone.
“Where am I?” I asked.
He didn’t answer me.
“What do you want with me?”
He sighed. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“That happens when I’m left in the dark on a cold cell floor.”
Zander chuckled and shook his head. “Your fire is inspiring, little one. It’s a pity your light needs to be snuffed out.”
29
He was bluffing. I was sure of it. I tried to fight the fear that came with his words and twisted in my gut until I felt sick in my stomach.
But Zander was saying things to work me up, to make my fear worse. It was the game he played. His entire existence was rooted in fear and darkness, and he thrived on it.
He ran his hands through his white-blond hair, and I watched his movement. Before, I had had little of a chance to study him. It was hard to see what someone was capable of when he was attacking me. But the way Zander carried himself, the way he moved, was like that of a warrior.
He knew what he was doing. He knew what he was capable of.
And he would do what was needed, no matter what it took. Loyalty, that was what he’d said to me. I wouldn’t underestimate him.
