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I hated that fucking voice. Because, no, I hadn’t really tried. Stabbing Kolis out there had been an act of fear and opportunity. That was all. Trying meant…
Becoming his weakness.
Making him fall in love.
Ending him.
I closed my eyes, but that did nothing to prevent the truth from smacking me upside the head. I did care. I pressed my balled fists against my eyes. The truth was, I didn’t want to do this.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t deserve to spend whatever time I had left forcing myself to seduce a being such as Kolis. Convincing myself that I had a choice in what I was doing with my body. That I was in control. Enduring his attention and touch. Lying to myself and hating every second of it. And all for what?
To stop the Rot? Save a kingdom that didn’t even know I existed? The so-called greater good?
It wasn’t right.
And I couldn’t do it to Ash—to my love for him. More importantly, I couldn’t do it to myself. I couldn’t become an empty vessel again, a blank canvas. I was a person, not just a warm body created for manipulation, deceit, and the purpose of destruction.
“Fuck the greater good!” I shouted, my head jerking back as the scream echoed off the bars of the cage.
The answering silence was a whole different kind of agony.
A harsh laugh slithered out, and a storm of emotions raged within me. Flames of anger licked at my insides and stirred the embers as a deep, painful sorrow dragged me down, like a weighty anchor tugging me into the depths of despair.
Because the truth was, I didn’t want to be the kind of person who sacrificed everything—their life, body, autonomy, and godsdamn soul—for everyone else. Everything I’d ever dealt with? My mother’s coldness and the feeling that I was somehow responsible for my father’s death? The fucking years of loneliness and having to carry the weight of a kingdom that didn’t even know I existed, let alone my name? My duty and being oh so careful in catering to Tavius’s fragile ego? The sense of bitter, festering failure? Everything I’d given up? Family suppers and kinship? Friendship and companionship? Knowing what it felt like to be wanted for who you were and not for what you could do for someone? Being known? Included? Spoken to and acknowledged? Having people actually know that I fucking existed and was real? I did all of that because I had to. Never because I chose to. I’d never had the choice to choose myself.
Now, I would.
I was choosing to fight.
CHAPTER SIX
Briefly closing my eyes, I silenced the voice that wanted to remind me this wasn’t the way to go about things. That it was a really terrible, bad idea.
That voice could shut the fuck up.
I needed a weapon. Pushing to my feet, I turned sharply to the various chests lining one side of the cage. There’d been a few in the last one, but not like here, nor had they been as lavishly adorned with gold and what looked like shadowstone trimmings.
Giving the chamber beyond a quick scan, I hurried over to the first trunk. I had no idea when Kolis would return, but he would. He claimed we needed to talk.
Kneeling, I threw open the lid of a chest about two to three feet wide and deep. Books were stacked neatly inside, one on top of another. Running my fingers over the spines, I wondered how many others had done the same. The thought left me cold. I knew Aios’s hands, when Kolis had kept her as one of his favorites, had likely touched these very books—not to mention countless other captives.
“No more,” I whispered. “There will be no more favorites after me.”
Because their lives had mattered, too—they still did. And once I got to Ash, and he took the embers, he could stop Kolis.
I quietly closed the chest and opened a slightly larger one on my other side. It was full of sheer, lacy slips used for sleeping. I moved on to the next one—the largest. It held more clothing. All gowns. I rooted through them, making sure I could touch the bottom to see if anything had been hidden there. Most of the garments were transparent enough that even the Mistresses of the Jade would’ve blushed wearing them, and they were all either white or gold, like the nightgowns. A few of them appeared as if they only provided the most basic level of decency. And there were no undergarments.
Gods.
I moved on to a fourth chest, the hinges creaking when the lid opened. More pale white and glittery gold gowns. Closing it, I scooted over to the smallest trunk. I went to pick it up, surprised to find it had some weight and something clunked around inside—several somethings.
Frowning, I knelt. Flipping up the lid, the hinges moved far smoother than the others. I found several strips of material inside, and just like the gowns, they were all white or gold. I picked one up. What in the world was it used for? Placing the ribbon back, I reached in farther. My fingers brushed something cool and smooth.
Shoving the material aside, I froze as I revealed what rested at the bottom.
They were glass…sculptures? Some were smooth and straight, cylindrical. Others curved slightly. A few were ribbed at the center. They ranged from six inches or so, and were one to two inches wide, in various shades of blue and red. A few were even wider and longer.
