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Chapter 3
Harmonia
Iblink as I continue to track the flames flickering before me, a heavy sigh falling from my lips. I slump back a little, my back resting against the bars as I try to regain the feeling in my ass cheeks.
Damn hard floor has me cycling between an annoying state of numbness to pins and needles repeatedly.
Tilting my head back, I look up at the ceiling, bracing my arms on my knees as my stomach grumbles. I can’t believe those assholes have left me down here this long. I don’t know how long “long” actually is, but shit, it feels like forever and I’m starving.
Agitated, I rise to my feet, twisting my hips and groaning as the numbness building slowly starts to recede. I brace for the tingles to come as the blood finally circulates through my body properly once more and glare at the bars that taunt me.
Stretching my arms above my head, I work out the remaining kinks from sitting in the same position for so long before I decide a plan of action is needed. I can’t sit here forever, not when I have fucking powers now.
I rub my lips together as I consider my options, uncertainty making itself known in my mind, but it’s worth a shot no matter what.
Well, the plan is a long stretch.
My magic quickly rises to the surface when summoned, my arms outstretched at the bars directly in front of me and in an instant embers flicker along my fingertips. A smile creeps over my lips as I relish the feeling of my magic flowing through me.
Cutting the distance between me and the offending bars, I opt to clamp my hands around the metal, watching as it turns to liquid under my heated touch before I step through the gap I’ve created.
My magic retreats once the task is complete and I shake my hands out, finding not a single mark or hint of remnants on my skin.
I should have fucking done that sooner.
Looking back at the space I’d occupied moments ago, I snap my fingers and watch as my little fire burns out before my eyes. I sweep my hair back off my face and eye the rest of the room, spying a door to the far right of the now-dimly-lit room.
I grab the handle without care, surprised when it swings right open to reveal a set of stone steps leading up.
Wow. The basement. These guys really are the assholes I hoped they weren’t. This is disappointing to say the least, but really, what did I expect after the last time I saw them?
Shaking the thought from my mind, I move toward the stairs, leaving the door ajar behind me as I make my way to another door at the top. Rolling my shoulders back, I open the wooden door to reveal a large entryway.
I can’t deny that I’m slightly impressed with whatever magic they had at play when I got here, somehow getting me in the basement and behind bars, but I’ll never tell them that. They definitely don’t need the ego stroke.
Softly closing the door behind me, I glance around the white marble-floored entry, eyeing several oak doors that lead off in different directions and a staircase off to the left. The simple white and oak tones that fill the room are far more stylish and a whole lot less bachelor pad than I expected.
Is there a woman here too?
The thought makes my stomach clench even more, and I force the idea away, not needing that negative imprint on my mind right now.
My gaze flickers to the glass panel above the large gray front door and I notice the moon is out, shimmering in the night sky like my life hasn’t been turned even further upside down. No wonder my stomach is grumbling. Not wanting to dwell on the fact that they really did leave me down there that long, I glance to the right to find a door wide open, revealing a huge open space.
I’m moving before I realize it, stepping through the doorway to find a large, dimly-lit kitchen to the right, with a center island and bar stools surrounding the end. A dining table sits in the center of the room, while a huge U-shaped sofa takes up the left side of the space with the biggest television I’ve ever seen hanging on the wall.
The color tones run through from the entryway while full glass doors line the exterior wall, offering stunning views over what seems to be all countryside.
Wow.
This is far from the house with the red door that they came from. Where we all came from.
My stomach rumbles again, driving me to action. Swinging the fridge door open, I shiver at the cool blast as I eye what food is available. I’m shocked to find a ton of meal prep lining each and every shelf.
Each Tupperware is labeled with its contents and I have no shame in snatching one promising lasagna before shutting the door behind me. I’m sure it would taste better being heated in the oven, but considering I may be short on time the only option right now is the microwave.
I chuckle to myself as I turn the appliance on, watching the container spin round and round as I wonder how it would look if I used my magic to heat it. I can just imagine myself melting the damn tub or something.
In no time at all, the microwave pings and I groan in delight at the smell that reaches my nose as I pull the lasagna out. It takes me a couple of searches through the drawers to find some utensils, but as soon as I have them, I shuffle onto one of the bar stools and dig in.
