Текст книги "Fable of Happiness Book One"

Автор книги: Pepper winters

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The way he watched me was borderline worship. He made me feel both like I was his for the rest of my life and that I was the ruler for the rest of his. He made no attempt to hide such fervency. No masks or quips to keep the upper hand. No games that so often existed in the bedroom between new partners.

Silently, I turned and gave him my back.

His sharp inhale sent my skin prickling, followed by the almost unfightable reaction to crumple at his feet as he draped the soft towel around my body and wrapped me tight.

I froze as he rubbed my arms, drying me off. Such a simple kindness. An unthought moment of sweetness.

But then his fingers dug into my biceps as if remembering our dynamic, and he stepped away from me. He backed up so quickly, I swayed as if he’d removed a wall from behind me.

Grabbing the towel, I turned to track him.

His jaw was clenched beneath his thick shadow of scruff, his long hair kissed his shoulders, and the tattered condition of his trousers hinted I wasn’t the only one in need of a shower.

He needed a shave. A haircut. He needed someone to groom him and teach him and perhaps, someday, remind him that whatever life he’d been living out here wasn’t a life at all.

It seemed whenever we were close, our eyes refused to unlock. I couldn’t look away from him—partly out of wariness in order to react quickly if he tried to hurt me, and partly because...despite everything—despite the two nights in a cellar drinking tap water and peeing in a bucket. Despite him shattering my cell phone and PLB. Despite the two strangulations and the forced blowjob, there was something inside him.

Something I’d been seeking ever since I was stupid enough to type up a dating profile. Something that no longer existed in men bred in today’s world.

That intoxicating blend of danger and doting. The ability to hurt but also to heal.

He kept watching as I dried off. I ought to have been embarrassed to rub the towel over my breasts and between my legs. Ought to have turned away and hidden all the pieces of me that I could.

But...if his lust could be harnessed—if I could do the unthinkable and make him free me, then I wasn’t embarrassed to use my body as a weapon.

The cold water and bathroom break had rejuvenated me.

I’m ready to fight again.

The longer I wiped off every droplet, the harder he trembled. Pain etched his eyes as his cock tented his trousers until the zipper strained and the button popped free. He looked in agony, yet he didn’t touch himself.

Licking my lips, I said in a voice that shook against my will. “I don’t have any other clothes. Do you...” I glanced past him to the bedroom. In my uninvited traipse of his home, I’d noticed wardrobes full of clothing. Some for men. Some for women. All rich and decadent and unused. “Would you allow me to borrow something while I clean mine?”

He lowered his head, his eyebrows shadowing the darkness of his stare. “A favor for a favor. Don’t get ahead of yourself.” His tone bordered a growl, thick with lust and frustration. Looking down at his cock, he snapped, “Deal with that, and you can have whatever clothes you want.”

Deal with that.

What does that mean?

He spoke of his body as if it was a traitor. As if the pleasure he was feeling and the anticipation of a release was torment instead of bliss.

“How...?” I swallowed, activating the fresh bruises around my neck. “Do you want to, eh—” I thought I’d come to terms with this. I had come to terms with this. I’d been prepared to offer my body in exchange for hope. Yet for some reason, verbalizing it took a strength I almost didn’t have.

Arching my chin and tapping into new courage, I asked clinically, “Do you wish to fuck me?”

He jolted.

His eyes snapped shut.

A guttural groan escaped his parted lips.

My belly coiled, and I was suddenly no longer cold from my shower. I was hot. I was steamy. But I didn’t want it. I couldn’t understand why my body reacted to his.

“Your hand,” he grunted. “I’ll fuck your hand.” His eyes opened, blazing coal and smoke. “Drop your towel and come here.”

Survival, Gem.

The only thing that matters.

Locking down my emotions for what was about to happen, I did as he requested.

I dropped the towel. I strode toward him bare. I stopped before him, suffering a full-body shiver at the heady heat rolling off him.

He didn’t touch me.

He looked as if he’d locked himself in place with shackles of invisible iron. “Free me.”

My heart somersaulted.

My inner battle for survival tangled with the ugly submission of giving in. Offering myself up verbally had been hard enough...willingly initiating sexual contact threatened to shove me back into the empty void from before.

“Do it,” he breathed, harsh and haggard. “Don’t and you’ll wish you obeyed.”

I looked up, fighting the urge to hide my body. “Do you...do you intend to touch me in return?”

I have to know.

Mentally, I had to prepare.

His jaw worked as his dark stare stroked my nakedness. “Make me come and you’re safe tonight.”

“And tomorrow?”

His lips thinned. “Tomorrow? Nothing is guaranteed.” Impatience etched his mouth. “Enough talking. You owe me. Do it.” His hips rocked, almost against his will. “Get it over with.”

Get it over with?

Another hint that sex for him wasn’t normal. “If you don’t want—”

“I want. I want the pain gone,” he muttered. “Now. Give me your goddamn hand.” Grabbing my wrist, he forced my trembling hand to press against his zipper.

The second my fingers made contact with his stiff arousal, he let me go. “Don’t stop.”

Just do it, Gem.

Freedom comes with a price.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I ordered my hand to obey, shaking and wary, dragging the zipper down.

He grunted as the fabric pressure on his cock vanished. The ruined slacks slipped down his legs to the floor. The muscles in his belly stood out in explicit detail, cords of strength and ridges of vitality.

No underwear.

I paused for a second, studying his erection just as he’d studied me. I’d tasted him, pleasured him. I knew his body before I knew his mind. The thicket of hair was as wild as the hair on his head. Untrimmed and unruly, hiding the balls drawn tight between his legs. And thanks to the lights gleaming above, I noticed something I hadn’t in my gloomy cell.

Scars existed on this part of his body, too.

Tiny snaking lines followed the thick arteries pumping blood into his cock. An awful tapestry of yet more pain he’d endured.

Was it self-inflicted?

Was it punishment?

Who is this man?

And why did he fill me with equal parts hate and the unfathomable need to nurture?

“Touch it,” he snarled, frustration thick in his throat.

I jumped from the spell I’d been put under, seeming to slip whenever I was too close to him. I cursed it. It shouldn’t happen. This was my enemy. My prison guard—

“Fuck, please—” He groaned as if his frustration had escalated to pitiful misery.

Once again, he scrambled me up.

Here was a man who didn’t hesitate to hurt me, who could kill me where I stood, yet...his beg was full of despair. It made me want to obey more than any threat he could utter.

He wanted to come via my hand.

He’d spared me the task of having him inside me. He said he wouldn’t touch me in return.

I was grateful for that.

I wouldn’t risk him deciding otherwise.

Taking a fortifying breath, I reached for his impressive length. The moment my fingers locked around his velvety girth, his head tipped back, and he collapsed against the wall behind him. “Fuck.”

Once again, he gave me everything. He put himself entirely into my hands as I stroked him from crown to stem.

He groaned long and low as I cupped his balls with my free hand, tugging down as I stroked up with my other.

I wouldn’t drag this out. He wanted to come? I’d make him release as quick as possible.

“Christ.” His forehead furrowed, and his eyes stayed shut, squeezed tight as if in agony and anguish. His hips thrust forward, pushing his heat through my fist, doing what he said and fucking my hand.

The wildness inside him sprang to the surface. A demonic forest dweller who followed no rules and found pleasure wherever the hell he wanted.

He thrust sharper, quicker into my palm.

I matched his pace.

I stroked and tugged, rolling my wrist and dragging my thumb over the slit already damp with pre-cum. His balls throbbed in my hands, growing hotter with every thrust.

It was wrong.

Very wrong.

Yet somehow, I felt powerful. I had a man quaking from my touch. A man who looked as if he could raze entire villages and challenge any other male to death if they came within sniffing distance.

His power transferred to me.

He gave it to me the entire time he shivered under my touch.

I squeezed him harder.

He buckled and thrust faster.

The chemistry between us deleted everything, leaving only misty lust and feverish shame.

“God, don’t stop. Don’t...fucking...stop.” His voice wasn’t human anymore, thick as bristled fur and black as midnight.

I stopped thinking.

I became his to use as he worked himself deeper and faster into my fist.

The muscles in his belly twitched into starker definition. His thighs bunched, and his hands landed in my hair as his lips opened in a feral grunt. His face was one tight grimace. His teeth sharp and features entirely primitive.

“Fuck...” His hair swung around his ears as he tipped his head forward and thrust a final time into my palm. “Fuuuuck!”

His fingers pulsed in my hair in time to the ribbons of cum jettisoning from the top of his cock. My hand grew sticky as the scent of his musk infiltrated the bathroom. On his last clench and jerky sigh, his forehead crashed against mine, and my heart stopped.

His lips sought for me.

His breath skated over my lips.

He dragged me closer by my hair, losing himself to the inevitable kiss.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t pull away.

I panicked at the thought of what a kiss from this man could mean.

At what it would do to me.

Don’t....

But as his lips almost touched mine, as the heat of his mouth seared my own, common sense slammed into him. He shoved me away so quickly, I tripped over my feet and skidded on my discarded towel.

Falling to my knees, I looked up at him. I blinked at the sudden change, then glanced down at the white threads of his seed all over my hand and wrist. I held evidence that he’d come undone, that the wild beast before me had granted me his power, even if it’d been for a few seconds.

He was about to kiss me...

Raw rage painted his face, killing all the passionate chaos inside him. Raking ten fingers through his hair, he blew out hard then ducked and wrenched up his slacks. He buttoned and zipped with quaking hands, almost as if being naked for longer than necessary was a sin he couldn’t commit.

It went against how I’d met him.

He’d worn nothing that day.

He’d run as if not wearing clothes was familiar and enjoyed.

He’d been a savage barbarian as much as a beast.

So why did he act as if I had no right to see him undressed now?

“Clean that up.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust at my cum-covered hand. “Once you’re done, join me in the bedroom.”

He stalked out before I could blink.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I PACED.

I wanted to run. To bolt. To gallop so far and so fast that this godforsaken place could never trap me again.

She was wrong.

She was dangerous.

Her touch had felt a million times better than any touches from my past. Beyond intense. Terrifyingly consuming. A simple squeeze had stopped my heart. A quick tug had made me detonate. What was I supposed to do with that? How was I supposed to stop my body from wanting more when she put a fucking hex on me?

Christ.

Pacing to the window, I glanced out at the dark-shrouded wilderness. A coyote dashed past in the moonlight, followed by the chatter of a raccoon in the distance.

They were free.

I was not.

I thought I’d earned my freedom; turned out, I was still chained to this place, and now I had yet another cross to bear.

Her.

“I’m...clean.”

Her voice whipped me around.

She stood wrapped in the towel I’d given her, blond hair darkened by water, her hands blessedly washed from my mess. Seeing the evidence of how badly I’d lost control had pissed me off. I’d never liked the by-product of sex. I always found it almost as disgusting as the need for sex itself.

The pleasure she’d granted had blinded me and struck me dumb, but the crash afterward had never hurt so much. I couldn’t keep doing this, but I also couldn’t fucking stop either.

Gritting my teeth, I marched across the bedroom and yanked open the closet. I’d cleaned this room last month. It was my second least favorite in the house. Not because of the red and silver color scheme but because of what’d happened in that bed.

At least the clothes in the wardrobe were ownerless. No one had left them behind. They didn’t smell of another. They were spares in case someone needed a gown, lingerie, or outdoor attire.

Stepping back, I waved stiffly at the hanging offerings. “Take what you want. Makes no difference to me.”

I couldn’t wear any of it. If my stash of male clothing eventually ran out, I might learn how to cut up a ball dress and fashion a shirt, but until that day came, I wanted nothing to do with them.

“Thanks.” She offered a small nod and drifted toward the wardrobe, her hands that’d touched me now clutching her towel as if it were a force field against me.

The sweep of her shoulder blades sent another crackle of lust down my legs as she turned her back on me and rifled through the clothes.

I wanted to snatch the towel off her. To reveal her nakedness beneath. I hadn’t drunk my fill before. I doubted I ever would, even if I commanded her to walk around naked for the rest of her imprisonment.

All my questions about her body had been answered.

Her stomach was toned.

Her legs were pale but not ghostly.

Her muscles were lean and carved beneath soft ink-free skin, adding definition to the curves of a woman who had substance. If I hadn’t believed she climbed here before, I did now. Even her fingers were strong. Her grip had rivaled anyone who’d ever touched me. She’d squeezed hard when I’d needed it and relaxed when I’d spent. She had the uncanny ability to read me, and it fucked with my head.

She was supposed to be the one afraid. She was the one trapped. So, what the hell was going on between us?

Moving toward the bed, I sat stiffly while she pulled a soft charcoal sweater from the wardrobe. Bending, she opened the drawers below, selecting a pair of lacy white underwear, some black satiny slacks, and bronze threaded socks.

Beside me rested the item I’d gone to fetch when she’d shut down.

She’d mentioned a way to tie her.

It’d reminded me of something.

That something was now resting against my hip and waiting to be used.

Glancing at me over her shoulder, she bit her lip as if debating whether to take her stash back into the bathroom where I couldn’t see her or perform a reverse striptease for me.

Leaning back on my hands, I tilted my head, waiting to see what she’d choose.

Her eyes locked on the leather coil beside me. Questions ghosted over her face, followed by stubborn pride not to ask. She was smart beneath her stupidity of trespassing and offering herself up to me, so she probably already knew what the cuff entailed.

Another means of captivity that she wasn’t prepared to address right now.

Once again, she stood in a dilemma. She swayed toward the bathroom, hugging her chosen clothes. If she left, I’d order her to return. I wanted to watch. Therefore, she had no choice but to let me.

She seemed to know that—once again reading me correctly.

That unnerved me but could also prove useful. If I groomed her well enough, all it would take was a simple stare, and she’d be on her knees ready to serve.

My balls tightened.

She’d surprised me that she hadn’t run when I’d left earlier. Then again, the hollowness in her eyes when I’d tipped up her chin hadn’t been faked. No one could fake that depth of unhappiness. In that, we had things in common, and I was both proud and slightly sick that I’d been the one to put such sadness there.

She surprised me again as she finally made her choice. Inhaling sharply, she whipped her head back around and dropped her towel.

Instantly, my cock swelled and ached.

I’d seen hundreds of stunning women. Slim ones, expensive ones, cruel ones. But never had any of them come close to the provocative perfection of this girl. If I had the freedom to touch myself, I would have.

I would’ve unzipped and fisted and worked myself to another release all while she bent over, silently stepped into the underwear, and slid them up her thighs.

I swallowed a groan.

She didn’t dress seductively. She did it quickly with jerky hands as if my eyes on her made her twitch, but no matter the perfunctory motions, she couldn’t stop the electricity sparking between us.

Maybe she didn’t feel it, but I sure as hell did.

I doubted I needed batteries and solar power to work the lights for Fables. Her power alone could light up this entire valley—shining spotlights into all the dark corners, the blackened corridors, and the many shadowy rooms where a thousand secrets refused to die.

The satiny pants clung to her legs as she pulled them to her waist. The outline of her spine, flanked with powerful muscles, flexed as she slipped a white T-shirt over her head, followed by the gray sweater.

The clothes were a little tight, adding to the sex appeal of her strength.

With her nakedness now covered, her shoulders slipped back with more confidence. She slowly turned to face me with balled hands and a cool look in her eyes. “Thank you for the clothes.” She licked her lips. “Are there any spare amenities I can borrow? A toothbrush? Hairbrush? Maybe some face moisturizer?”

I stayed where I was on the bed. I couldn’t get a read on this girl. She refused to be afraid of me. She remained polite despite her entrapment. She obeyed me when I commanded pleasure, and apart from her moment of emptiness inside the bathroom, she’d shown no signs of breaking.

She would’ve made a good member of our team...before the end came.

The Fable household would’ve benefited from her more than most. She would’ve been worth any price if she continued to protect her soul and trade her body for things that benefited her survival.

“Did you hear me?” she asked quietly. “Any spare toothbrushes at least?”

“Vanity. Bottom drawer.” I waved toward the bathroom. “There’s a kit.”

“A kit?”

“Spare items that a guest might require during their stay here.”

Her eyes flared. “So, you do have guests? What is this place? Some type of Air BnB?”

I scowled. “I have no idea what that is.”

“It’s a third-party program that allows homeowners to rent their properties to vacationers. Kind of like a hotel, but you stay in their personal homes.”

That sounded godawful. “You sleep in someone else’s bed?”

She shrugged. “Well, yes. Isn’t that the same principle of a hotel? Multiple people sharing the same bed? The sheets are changed, but the mattress is the same.”

My skin crawled, and I shot off the bed I was sitting on.

Fables wasn’t that sort of place. We weren’t a venue for hire. Randoms couldn’t just pay to stay here. To be invited meant you were elite. To have a permanent bedroom here meant you were untouchable.

“Get the kit and finish whatever you need to do. I’ve wasted enough time on you.” Crossing my arms, I lowered my voice to a snarl, “Hurry.”

She backed up, keeping her eyes on me as she crossed the bedroom to the bathroom. With a wary look, she darted inside. The sound of a drawer opening, followed by the zipper of a leather bag echoed back.

Tracking her on silent feet, I leaned against the doorframe as she unwrapped a toothbrush, squirted a new tube of paste onto the bristles, and almost sank in relief as she tasted minty freshness.

I never looked away as she cleaned, spat, rinsed, then applied the expensive moisturizer to her face before quickly running a brush through her shower-damp hair. My cock never deflated, and by the time she was done, I danced on the decision to make her serve me again.

She was nice and clean. Skin dewy fresh and lips just begging to be messed up with my cock.

Placing everything neatly back in the bag, she zipped it up and went to put it in the drawer.

“Keep it,” I said, pushing off the door and wincing at the pain between my legs. “Take it with you.”

“Take it where?” Her eyes met mine as she spun to face me.

“Where do you think?” I stepped toward her. “Your accommodations, of course.”

She balked. “Wait...you’re taking me back down into the cellar?”

I laughed with ice. “You didn’t think I’d upgrade you to this room, did you?” Waving my arm at the opulence and the many escape routes, I shook my head. “And give you the keys to run? This isn’t secure. We both know that.”

Even with a leash, she could possibly get free if I wasn’t here to supervise.

I wasn’t prepared to take that chance.

She huffed. “I won’t run. Didn’t I already prove that to you?”

“You merely proved your limits. You let bodily functions get in the way of your ability to stay strong.”

And you don’t?

The fact that I couldn’t touch my own cock. That I could handle anything—literally any-fucking-thing—yet I still couldn’t get past my aversion of self-sex. If I was braver, I had the answers inside my messed-up skull. Somewhere inside me, I knew why that was. But if I had my way, I would never remember.

Fury blazed through her gold-hazel eyes. “You’re saying you find me weak?”

“I’m saying you need to get over such things if you’re to survive here.”

“And that turns you on? Watching me use the bathroom in front of you?” Her lips turned into a sneer as she glanced at my stiff erection. “Any other fetishes I should be aware of?”

“Not a fetish. Just a part of life.”

A fragment of memories shot into my head. The soothing tones of a girl I’d once loved. The sobs of a boy I’d hugged in the dark. The stench of a communal bucket being used by all of us. We hadn’t had the luxury of being given a bathroom. We hadn’t been given privacy. Fuck, our bodies hadn’t been ours since the day we’d stepped through the cave and entered this place.

Christ.

Ice water shot down my spine as I shoved such things away and slammed the door in my mind.

What the fuck?

That shouldn’t have happened.

I’d spent a decade forgetting. I would forget for the rest of my life. Until she’d arrived, I could go months in blissful oblivion, alone and not fully recalling why, content in my loneliness because I knew there were things far, far worse out there.

First the sleepwalking and now remembering while I was still awake?

What’s next?

Full-blown recollection of things I couldn’t afford to recall? What if my nightmares entered my reality again? What if I couldn’t shut it off?

Panic made me angry, and anger made me short-tempered. Snatching her by the wrist, I barked, “Enough. Time to go home.”

She pulled against me as I dragged her from the bathroom. Her socked feet slid on the marble tile, skidding into me. “Wait. I don’t want to go back down there.”

“I don’t care what you want.”

“Please. Lock me in here. Let me have access to sunlight and a toilet, for god’s sake.”

Hauling her through the room, I glowered at the crimson and silver space. Luckily, no other memories sprang forth. Only the vague sensation that something bad had happened here, and it was time for me to go.

Reaching the door, I changed the subject. I deflected back onto my tempting little trespasser. A prisoner I should probably get rid of but still wanted far too badly. “How many exits do you count? Be honest, I’m curious.”

Her forehead furrowed, her arm still squirming in my hold for freedom.

I waited for her to play dumb. To pretend she hadn’t searched every wall, nook, and window for signs of easy breakouts. However, she once again surprised me when she stopped fighting and went with honesty instead. “I really shouldn’t say this, but at first glance, I see one in the bathroom and at least three in this bedroom.”

The door, window, and balcony.

I stopped pulling her, and we stood far too close. So close those damn currents of energy crackled between us, making my belly coil and thighs bunch. “The windows being the obvious choice.”

She nodded reluctantly. “That and this door. I remember the layout of the house. If I could pick the lock, I could run down the corridor and out the front door.”

“There aren’t any locks.” I clenched my jaw against hazy awareness of why that was. Why this entire place didn’t have a single lock on any door or window, apart from the cells below and my rigged attempts in my dorm. I’d made deadbolts for the exterior doors but hadn’t bothered with the internal ones. It’d been yet another mind game. A power trip to those unfortunate not to be guests here but permanent residents.

“Is that why you won’t let me stay in this room?”

“What do you think?” I sneered.

“I think I proved you can trust me.”

I laughed. “It’ll take a lot more than that to earn my trust.”

“Tell me, and I’ll do it.” Her green swirling eyes melded with brown, firing with so many things. The intensity of her made my heart pound. She made equal urges of violence and protection fight for space in my chest.

It couldn’t be permitted to continue.

Shutting everything down, locking her out of my goddamn heart and head, I dug my fingers into her wrist and dragged her down the corridor.

“Wait.” She once again tried to free herself. “Stop! Let’s talk about this—”

I barely even noticed.

I was done with this.

I wanted to be alone.

Her pleas, threats, and curses made no difference as I relocated her from splendor to squalor. Down the stairs and into the dank darkness.

“Sleep well.” I gave her a shove, tossing her inside the cell before slamming the door in her face.

* * * * *

That night, I didn’t sleepwalk.

I dreamed.

I fell into the pits of my desolated and demented mind, coating myself in filth I could never be free of, drowning in memories that I refused to recall.

And I died a little more.

I’d been dying ever since I’d arrived in this putrid house.

“You all good?”

I raised my bruised head and forced my eyes to focus on Zanik. It took effort to see again. To summon the will to pay attention instead of wishing on a minutely basis to be blind.

Zanik stood as straight as his last beating would allow him. His bronze skin a shade lighter with agony. His black eyes and midnight hair were as feral as the rest of us.

He said his father was Jamaican and his mother Irish. They’d been good parents. Until they weren’t.

I grunted a non-answer and pushed off from the door where I’d been swaying with the sudden urge to vomit. Climbing the stairs had pushed me to my limit.

I swallowed bile, ignored my wounds, and shuffled to my assigned dormitory bed. I didn’t bother stripping or washing or even pissing in the bucket. My body was done. I had nothing left. I fell face-first onto the uncomfortable mattress and groaned in pain.

Feet whispered their way toward me. The presence of a boy trapped in hell just like me hovered by my arm. His closeness set off the chain reaction inside me. I couldn’t have someone close to me right now. Not after what they’d done tonight.

But Zanik was like me.

He cared even while they broke him. He wouldn’t let me suffer alone even though that was all I wanted.

When his hand stroked my back, the pain of his kindness almost tore me in two.

A heavy sob clawed up my throat, but I choked it back down.

No one cried here anymore.

No one.

“You’re okay, Kas. We’ll protect you for the rest of the night. Won’t we, guys?”

My ears pricked as the other unfortunates in this prison all spoke as one. A mumble of misery with our messed-up brotherhood sisterhood.

“We’ll watch over you, Kassen.”

Female blended with male.

There were no separate bedrooms for different sexes. No screens for privacy when we changed or had to go to the bathroom. We were as intimately linked as any person—family or friends could be.

Forcing strength I didn’t have into my body, I sat up. I flopped onto my ass and gritted my teeth against the pain resonating from my asshole to the base of my skull.

They’d been extra ‘attentive’ tonight. Rough and ruthless. Not sparing me an inch.

A girl with blond hair, a gap in her teeth, and pretty hazel eyes slid off her squeaky bed and came to me. We stared at each other for a moment. Her pity for me was obvious. My pity for her was equally visible. We all stank of pity for one another.

Wordlessly, she opened her arms and crawled into bed with me.

I flinched against her contact.

I didn’t want to be touched and had long lost the privilege of touching another, but she didn’t give me space to become rotten with what they’d done. They could take away so much from us, but here, in this tiny dormitory, we all did our best to patch each other up, glue up our holes, sticky-tape our breaks, and not shatter completely.

Her small body fitted against me, and Zanik joined our awkward hug. He sat on my other side, wrapping his arms around me and Quell.

And we just sat there.

We sat there for so long, exhaustion found me, and I started to slip into sleep.

I was only vaguely aware as more of my family joined us on my bed.

Nyx and Jareth, Maliki and Sarez.

My heart tried to heal but, instead, tore itself to pieces, knowing that our fractured unit wasn’t complete. Elise, Neo, and Wes were still serving.

I’d been the first to finish. I wished I’d been the last so the others could be here. Safe in the arms of each other. Protected from more pain.

Tomorrow, I would try all over again to figure out how to save them. I would do my chores and get on my knees, all while seeking out the weaknesses of this place.

But until then, I would sleep. I would heal. I would grow stronger and smarter so I could keep the promise we’d all made.

The promise that had been bound in blood almost two years ago.

It’d been Nyx’s idea.

The shy little redhead who was the youngest of us all. She’d tried to climb out the window. She’d been caught. Whipped. Brought back bleeding. But instead of crying like so many of us did in our first year here, she’d merely smeared the blood over her fingers and approached us one by one.