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Present Day, Ammarett dungeon
Ipropped my arm under my head, the cage around me nothing but a square iron frame with walls of something similar to chainmail—rusty, tight, unyielding. No window, barely any air and even less light, with nothing for company but the echo of my memories.
“I heard he cried and screamed like a woman.”
Domren’s echo.
“Sometimes, we’re just mad at ourselves for liking something we think we shouldn’t. Maybe it’s something that was once so unpleasant, it’s shameful for us to find pleasure in it now.”
Sebian’s echo.
“She can never give you what I do. Do you know that, little girl? The things he likes done to him? Do you know that he likes his vent tickled?”
Lorn’s echo.
“Why would you touch me like that, huh?”
The worst echo of them all. Malyr’s.
None of it had made sense in those moments. Now, in the stillness of my dark prison, with nothing to distract me, clarity settled into my mind. Malyr had been raped in the dungeons, hadn’t he? A despicable act that leaves many women feeling tainted and ashamed, I understood full well—now more than ever. Why would it be different for a boy? A man?
I reached my hand between my legs, past the tatters of my clothes, and stroked over my tender flesh. How the sting of that touch could still make me flinch was beyond me, considering how they’d brutalized me on the ship. How they—
No! I wouldn’t go back there. It was bad enough that I’d been forced to take Domren and his men into my body, but I wouldn’t allow them a single inch of space in my mind, in my heart, in my life.
When I sensed the viscous wetness I’d been hoping to find after restless sleep interrupted by cramps, I brought my bloodied fingertips to my face. No foul smell, no infection from internal injuries. Only my menses.
There would be no child.
It was a small flicker of relief that illuminated my core for a second as I wiped my fingers on my dress. Nobody had touched me since I’d been locked up in here, with guards roaming the dark passages of this dungeon.
Commotion sounded from the passageway ahead of the room where my cage stood. The firelight there—its orange hue the only color in this black void—danced, flickered, and writhed where it usually remained still in this stagnant air. How curious.
Boots thudded.
Armor clanked.
Silence followed, interrupted only by the crackling of fire. That, and the faintest littletap-tap-taps, like claws drumming on stone. The scuffling grew louder, closer.
My breath caught, the already sparse air growing thin in my lungs as I edged toward the wall. Heart pounding, I pressed my face against the iron curtain, squinting to glimpse through one of the small openings. The coarse rust scratched against my skin as my gaze locked onto the darkness ahead, probing, searching, desperate for whatever clue the flickering firelight could offer.
And then, a shift in the blackness on the ground—a subtle movement, a breaking of shadows. Mice? Rats?
My heart stumbled over a beat.
A raven!
And not just any raven with how he hopped toward me, bobbing his head up and down all the while. A scroll had been wrapped around one of his legs, tied to it with two blue ribbons.
“Malyr…” My mate’s name all but breathed from my lips as I struggled two fingers through a gap, relief and joy flooding my senses. “Can you push your little foot in here?”
The raven’s head turned this way and that, scrutinizing the woven barrier that separated us. Eventually, he ran his beak over the metal, probing here and there. He merely let out a low crooning sound, as if acknowledging our shared dilemma.
Maybe not so smart after all…
“Just sand still.” My fingers strained through the tight gap of the chainmail, knuckles aching, my fingertips barely grazing the silken material. “Come on. Come on.”
On the third tug, the last ribbon came loose, unraveling the scroll some as it slipped down the spindly leg. The raven let out a flustered caw, hopping back in a mixture of surprise and annoyance. He shook his foot, dislodging the ribbons and sending the parchment rolling… out of reach.
