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Standing, I turn back to face the door, bringing my fist up to pound the wood over and over again. “Let me out. Let me the hell out of here,” I repeat hysterically. A rustling on the other side stops me short. My body tenses.Someone is out there.
“Open the goddamn door, you sadist,” I shriek, and then freeze when I hear a key going into the lock on the other side.
My eyes search the area around me, looking for a place to hide. I might’ve been asking for this, but now that someone is actually coming in, I’m terrified. I almost collapse in relief when my gaze falls upon a door on the adjacent wall. Throwing it open, I’m disappointed to find it’s only an en suite bathroom. One conveniently lacking a lock. Without time to contemplate my next move, I enter the bathroom, closing the door behind me and crouching in the large stone shower. Not two seconds later, I hear footsteps on the wooden floor on the other side of the bathroom door.
He’s come for me.
Several seconds go by and then the door to my room closes. I release the breath I was holding, thankful that I wasn’t going to be someone’s meal.
“Excuse me, miss. I came to bring you breakfast.”
My body jolts at the foreign voice calling through the bathroom door. I’m shaking in fear when the bathroom door creeps open.
“Go away,” I cry, unable to say anything more.
“Please, miss. I won’t hurt you,” the deceptively nice woman promises.
Don’t trust anyone here.
“Come out and eat before it turns cold.”
I know better than to fall prey to the false politeness in her voice. To relax and do as I’m told would be a mistake... yet I can’t help it. My stomach is ready to revolt from a lack of food. It’s either die from being too trusting or die from starvation. I’m not sure which would be worse at this point.
Cracking the door slightly, I see a girl not much younger than me carrying a tray full of silver platters. She appears pale and fragile, much like the people clad in black back at the auction.Another victim.
She seems harmless enough, so I slowly exit the bathroom. When our eyes meet, she makes a small curtsy, which is odd, as I’m the prisoner. I search her face for signs of anything sinister, like red eyes or sharp canines.
When I don’t find anything out of place, I lunge forward. “Help me.Helpme,” I beg, pulling at the skirt of her dress. The silver platters clink as the tray shifts.
“Miss, please. You’ll get us both in trouble.”
“Help me escape,” I plead once more, desperation taking over.
Her lips pull down and a crease forms between her eyes.
“There’s no way out,” she whispers. “You belong to the Crown now.”
My hands release their hold on the girl. That feeling of hopelessness creeps back in. She won’t help me.
“Stacey. Where’s Stacey?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
I see it in the way her eyes quirk. She doesn’t know Stacey.
“I just bring breakfast.”
“Please. Help me get out of here.” I try begging once more.
She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at me.
“The Crown is a generous man if you abide by his rules. Do as you’re told, and he’ll bring you no harm.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Is that a rehearsed statement?” I say harshly, losing all sense. If I’m going to die, better to go out fighting than lying down and taking it. There is no room for fear here. I need to channel all the rage inside of me, and God help this girl, because she’s about to be on the other end of that rage. “Where is he?” I demand, grinding my teeth in anger.
“I’m only to bring you your food, miss.” She places the tray on a small round table next to the bed, not even fazed by my menacing glare.
As she turns to leave, I grab her sleeve and pull her toward me, barring my teeth.
