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Briar
There was no abrupt wake-up when I slept for the third time, no barking guard or metal door clanging. When I opened my eyes naturally, sunlight streamed weakly through one of the three rectangular windows overlooking the courtyard I’d seen the night before.
That really happened last night. Ash brought me to his home.
I wasn’t sure how to process that yet, but I couldn’t deny that I felt safer here. Also, there was a real bathroom—a small luxury I never knew could bring me so much joy.
Slowly and cautiously, I ambled toward the huge washroom and peeked inside, marveling at the modern setup. Six pieces, including a jacuzzi tub and steam shower. There wasn’t any soap or shampoo, but I got the sense that Ash didn’t get many visitors.
What a shock. He seemed so personable.
I washed my face and released my bun finally, the curls spilling down my neck to my shoulder blades. Small bags had formed under my eyes from the lack of sleep and stress, much to my horror. On a whim, I pinched the tops of my cheekbones furiously to enhance their color, but when I felt pain, I stared at my reflection in disbelief.
What am I doing that for? Who am I trying to impress?I asked myself, aghast.
Shaking my head, I wandered back into the bedroom and perched on the edge of the queen-sized bed, eying the closed double doors. I didn’t know whether I was locked in or not, but I didn’t want to stir up trouble by trying without permission.
He hadn’t forbidden me from leaving, but he also didn’t tell me I was free to roam about.
I didn’t believe Ash would kill me for trying the door, but I also was well aware of what he could do if he were mad enough now, and I didn’t want to catch him on a bad day.
A knock on the door ended my small mental battle.
“Briar?” a woman called from the other side. “Are you awake yet?”
I rushed toward the door and tried it. The knob gave way in my hand. I hadn’t been locked in after all.
A pretty, dark-haired, dark-eyed fae stood in the hallway with a canvas bag in hand. She smiled warmly, but the expression didn’t quite meet her eyes, which appeared vaguely concerned.
“Did I wake you?”
I shook my head. “Who are you?” I asked bluntly, holding my ground.
Just because she looked harmless didn’t mean she was.
“Rachel Simms,” she said, proffering a hand. “I’m Ash’s personal assistant, and now I’m personally assigned to your care and security.”
I eyed her skeptically. “No offense, but you’re not much bigger than me,” I informed her.
Rachel snickered. “You’d be surprised what I can do,” she replied. “In fact, most don’t see me coming because they’re too busy underestimating me.” She winked and held up the bag in her hand. “Can I come in? I have some things for you.”
I stepped aside, and she closed the door behind her.
“Does this mean I’m allowed to leave this room?”
Rachel set the bag down on the table in the sitting room next to the gas fireplace, her back to me.
“I’m not sure,” she answered. “I didn’t discuss that with Ash, but I can if you like.”
I sighed and jumped back onto the unmade bed, dropping onto my belly like a teenage girl.
“Oh, that would be swell,” I chirped. “And can you ask him when my curfew is? And if I’m allowed to have any sugar after six o’clock?”
Rachel smirked lightly and began to pull items out of the canvas bag, catching my eye as she did. I realized that she had come with clothing, but the contents of her bag didn’t appear to be the same items that had been in the prison cell.
“I had to guess on your size, but Ash told me that the things in the other room were too big for you?” she said, holding up a simple ivory sundress. “I think this will do. It looks like it will fit.”
She tossed the dress toward the bed, but I didn’t touch it, shame flooding me.
