Текст книги "A fire in the flash"

Автор книги: Jennifer L. Armentrout

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 37 страниц)

CHAPTER FIVE

Kolis’s compulsion lifted, and the moment he vanished, control over my body and thoughts returned.

But I stood where he’d left me, in what was yet another, much grander gilded cage—one I had a terrible, sinking suspicion was the one Aios had spoken of.

Seawater dripped from my hair and gown, leaving small puddles on the shiny black floor as a faint tremor coursed down my arm. The return had been a blur, but once inside the cage, Kolis hadn’t left immediately.

He’d lingered for some time.

But hadn’t spoken.

He had just looked down at me—at my face, my body—hands trembling on my arms, then my waist and hips. I could still feel his fingers pressing into my flesh and then curling around the wet, thin material of my gown, my skin crawling the entire time.

He’d shook as if overcome by some kind of extreme emotion or struggling with restraint.

And he’d shivered while terror lodged in my throat and helplessness slowly suffocated me. He’d quivered through each second, every minute, as I feared what was to come, what he would do while I stood there. That choking, smothering powerlessness had entrenched itself deeply within me, and it remained, even with him gone.

A shudder went through me, and my chest tightened. I hadn’t been able to look away or move out of his reach. I couldn’t even tell him to stop touching me, nor did I have the chance to regain some semblance of control. Nausea rose, turning my stomach.

I’d been helpless, absolutely powerless, and it had been so easy for him to ensure that. Four words. Just four fucking words, and he’d had complete control of me.

The back of my throat burned. The gold bars before me, spaced a foot apart, blurred. I managed one step, and then my legs stopped holding me up. I went down onto my knees and palms. I didn’t even feel the impact. My too-tight chest constricted even further as I took rapid, too-shallow breaths.

Kolis could do that again at any time. He could seize my will, strip my power from me before I even knew it, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I was trapped here, with him, without control. I would die here, either at Kolis’s hands or upon my Ascension, and there was no telling what would happen between now and then.

Actually, I did know.

Aios had spoken little about her time as one of Kolis’s favorites, but I’d been able to fill in what she hadn’t shared. He’d never touched his favorites, but I would eventually be different. I knew that. I’d seen it in his stare when he stood before me, his hands fisting the gown. It was the same kind of dark, twisted need I’d seen in Tavius’s eyes more times than I cared to remember.

I leaned back, my heart racing. I squeezed my eyes shut, but my cheeks became damp. Pain flared across my jaw as I clamped my mouth closed, but the ragged sound still deafened my ears.

I smacked my hands over my face—fuck, that hurt—but the physical pain was nothing compared to the withering agony that would leave no bruises behind.

Kolis’s promise of violent destruction of not only me but also those I cared about echoed in my mind, overshadowing the fear of assault. It was an oath I didn’t doubt for one second.

My body was now the one that shook. Raw panic and anger crashed through me, pouring into the crack in my chest that had formed in the Dying Woods when I attempted to escape the Shadowlands and turn myself over to Kolis. Pressure built. My heart did that skipping thing that caused what breath I’d managed to take to catch repeatedly. The inside of my throat had to be shrinking as tears stung the tender skin of my lip. The Primal essence stirred, pulsed. My skin prickled all over, the tiny hairs rising in response to the brief charge hitting the air.

In the back of my mind, I knew this wasn’t good. I clearly remembered what had happened the last time I’d completely lost control. I’d almost brought Ash’s palace down on us and sent myself into the Ascension I wouldn’t survive. I’d end up going into stasis.

I couldn’t afford to weaken myself and become truly vulnerable.

The embers in my chest vibrated, and I lowered my hands, opening my eyes. My breath snagged. Silver eather sparked along the tips of my fingers as the embers and my blood started to hum.

“Keep it together,” I told myself, trying to slow and clear my thoughts.

But it was impossible.

Because it wasn’t just what would happen to me, it was what would surely be done to Ash—what had already been done to him. And Kolis had him in a cell somewhere.

I knew what kind of state he’d been in, and it hadn’t been good. Something struck me, then. I thought of the roots that had come out of the ground when I nearly sent myself into Ascension. Why hadn’t the earth attempted to protect Ash? Although they hadn’t tried to protect me or the embers inside of me either when I was so very close to dying. There had to be a reason for that, but my mind couldn’t focus on it. It dwelled on what awaited Ash—what Kolis would do to him.

I jerked, my shoulders rising and falling rapidly as I tried to take in enough air between the ragged, shattered sounds still coming out of me.

I pressed my lips together, attempting to cease the quiver in them and silence the sobs. Ash had never been entirely forthcoming when it came to what Kolis had done to him in the past, but I knew enough. Gods, I knew plenty.

Ash was a Primal, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be injured. He could be hurt badly. He could even be in stasis now, unable to defend himself.

Gods, thinking that wasn’t helping. The embers throbbed more violently—

A low-pitched cracking sound drew my attention to the cage floor. Where my bent knees rested on the black tile, a small splinter appeared in what looked like shadowstone, forming a thin spiderweb of fractures.

Gasping for air, I looked at the bars above me. A faint cloud of dust drifted down. Something glinted at the center of the cage up high, where all the bars came together, but I couldn’t focus on it.

My gaze moved to the chamber beyond. A buttery yellow glow from several chandeliers cast a soft light over shiny, obsidian walls. Shadowstone. I could see the cracks in the stone—fractures that were far deeper and impossible for me to have caused.

I saw a gilded seat. How many damn thrones did Kolis have? One in every room, it seemed—possibly even the bathing chamber.

But it wasn’t the only item. Centered around it was a sitting area with several settees, a few low tables, and a couple of wingback chairs. To the left was a dining table and some other chairs. A dark, cherry-wood credenza was against the wall, stocked with numerous bottles of liquor and stacked glasses. All but the credenza and what it held was gilded.

Did Kolis hold meetings in here?

Fucking gods, I bet he did.

Several windows were near the ceiling, too high to reach and only a couple of feet wide and tall. So, unless I learned to fly and could contort my body to half its size, they wouldn’t do me any good.

I could only assume I was inside some chamber within Cor Palace, but I had no idea for sure. I could be anywhere.

Ash could be anywhere.

The tile beneath my palm cracked.

Holy shit, I was breaking shadowstone, one of the strongest materials in both realms—if not the strongest.

Oh, gods, I needed to calm down.

I slid my trembling hands to my knees. I could do this. I could control the panic and the Primal essence, couldn’t I? Even if it didn’t feel like it, the anxiety came from my mind. I knew how to stop it. And the eather? I now knew that was a part of me, so much so that the embers couldn’t even be removed without killing me. I’d controlled it earlier. I could do it again now. The embers are yours for the time being, I reminded myself.

And I could control them again. I could control myself. I was not weak. I wasn’t helpless when it came to this. I wouldn’t be. I refused.

So, I needed to figure this out.

Was the essence responding to my emotions? To the violent mix of panic and anger? Or was it reacting to the feeling of not being able to breathe? It wasn’t the former. Yes, the eather always became more active when I felt something strongly, but it was the breathlessness and the feeling of not being attached to myself that was the cause. It was the spiral of feeling completely out of control as if I were capable of doing anything to myself, and anything could happen to me. That was doing this. Because it felt like dying. Like running full speed toward death.

But I wasn’t completely out of control. I wouldn’t do anything to myself. This wasn’t like the night I’d taken too much sleeping draft. I didn’t want to die. I hadn’t really wanted to then, either. I’d just been lost. And I was breathing. Not very well, but I wasn’t being choked by unseen hands. Air was still getting into my lungs. I just needed to slow down my respiration.

My fingers dug into my knees as I forced my aching jaw to open. I went with Ash’s instructions because it made me feel like he was here, and I badly needed that. I conjured up the memory of his body bracing mine, and his arms wrapped firmly around me. Gods, I could hear him, his smoke-and-shadow voice.

“You need to slow your breathing,” he said softly. “Put your tongue behind your upper front teeth.”

I did as he’d instructed, pressing the tip of my tongue to the back of my upper teeth and keeping my mouth closed. Then, imagining that he was guiding me to do so, I straightened my back, removing any actual physical pressure from my chest.

“Close your eyes and listen to me.” I obeyed the command from the memory. “Focus only on me. I want you to exhale to the count of four. Don’t breathe in. Just exhale. One. Two. Three. Four. Now, inhale for the same count.”

I did exactly that, breathing out and then in.

“Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I kept going as seconds became minutes. I didn’t regain control immediately. I had to fight for it. Needed to wait for my chest to loosen and my throat to expand. I had to fight for my breathing to slow and deepen. Fight for the embers to calm down.

So, I did what I did best. I fought.

I had no idea how much time had passed. Could’ve been a handful of minutes or hours, but the tears finally slowed. My breathing deepened and became steadier. The embers calmed, and the spiraling feeling faded until I felt present, attached to my body, and in control once more.

Blowing out a ragged breath, I rocked back and then pushed to my feet. The pain in my face and mouth alternated between a dull ache and a throbbing pulse as I shoved tangled, damp curls back. I carefully wiped at my cheeks, my stomach dipping at the red sheen I saw on my palms.

Tears of blood.

Tears of a Primal.

Gods.

I took another deep breath as I looked at my right hand. The luminous, golden whirls swept over my hand and slipped between my thumb and pointer finger, continuing in sweeping swirls across my palm.

Ash was alive.

I just needed to make sure he stayed that way, which meant I had to get the hell out of here and find him so he could take the embers. Then he would Ascend into what he was always meant to be: the true Primal of Life.

In my chest, the embers wiggled as if they…disapproved?

Gods, that was a wild thought. They were only energy. Power. They didn’t have opinions or biases. They just were.

And once Ash was the true Primal of Life, the few embers of death that still existed in Kolis would force him to once more assume the role of the Primal of Death. That would stop the Rot from spreading within the kingdom of Lasania, and eventually the rest of the mortal realm. And with the ability to Ascend gods restored, as I’d done with Bele and Aios, Ash could kill Kolis and have a new Primal rise in his place.

“What was Eythos thinking?” I whispered, asking for what felt like the hundredth time.

He’d created a weapon by putting the only true embers of life inside me, along with Sotoria’s soul.

But it was a poorly thought-out, imperfect one.

He clearly hadn’t considered all the things that could go sideways after the deal was made. Perhaps he’d thought I would be born before he died, even though he knew Kolis would kill him. Or maybe he assumed Ash would follow through, taking me when I turned seventeen and therefore giving me a chance to kill Kolis before I entered the Culling. Before the embers could merge so deeply within me that a single drop of Ash’s blood had made it so they couldn’t be removed without my death. Perhaps he’d hoped his son would take the embers and be able to raise a god of the Shadowlands to assume the role of the true Primal of Death before Kolis’s death wreaked havoc in both realms, which would happen if all the power had no place to go. But…

I slowly shook my head. There was no way he was foolish enough to bank on that. There was no way Ash could Ascend himself and raise another god before the energy Kolis’s death would release did its damage.

I’d seen how fast the shockwave had left Hanan, and there was already another god—another vessel—ready to hold that power.

So, again, what the hell had Eythos been thinking? All he’d managed to do was keep those two true embers of life safe.

And Sotoria.

Until now.

Swallowing, I pressed my hand to the center of my chest. The gown was still wet, and it stuck to my palm. I didn’t hear Sotoria’s voice, but I knew she was there.

I could feel her like I never had before. It was as if she were a tangible entity that had woken up inside me.

And she was aware.

Of how much, though? Enough to feel what I did? Or just enough to know that she was trapped inside me? I wasn’t sure, but I hoped her awareness was only the result of me being close to death and that she’d eventually return to being…well, what I wished for was something akin to being asleep.

Because I didn’t want her to feel imprisoned. I didn’t want her to be conscious of what would likely happen next. She had been through enough already.

But hadn’t I been through enough, too?

A rising sense of hopelessness crashed over me. I…I couldn’t do what needed to be done. Was there even a point to it now? I’d had my shot at killing Kolis out on the beach and failed.

I didn’t care.

I didn’t.

Besides, Kolis likely knew exactly what I had been trained for, even if he hadn’t seemed all that concerned when I wielded a sword against him. The only option I had now was to escape and get to Ash.

Is it? whispered an annoying voice that sounded an awful lot like mine.

My heart turned over heavily as I stared at the golden marks on my palm. But that nitpicky voice needed to shut the fuck up because I had tried to do my duty.

But did you, really?

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.

They couldn’t be…

I picked up one made of deep blue glass and suspiciously shaped like…a cock.

All of them were—well, except for the ribbed ones, and that crimson-hued one as wide as my fist that seriously terrified me to even contemplate. But I thought I knew what these were. I’d seen similar ones in pleasure dens. They were glass cocks.

Aios had also told me that Kolis liked to sit with his favorites—talk with them and watch them. I knew that Aios hadn’t told me everything about her time here, but I figured I’d found something Kolis liked to watch.

“Perverted bastard,” I muttered, disgust churning. All of these had clearly been cleaned, but it was unthinkable to imagine how many hands had touched them. How many bodies…

I wanted to break every single one of them, shatter them to pieces. Damn, I wanted to do way worse with them, and at least one of those things involved shoving one of them through Kolis’s eye.

A tight-lipped smile tugged at my lips as I studied the one I held. Likely the strangest weapon I’d ever considered, but it was better than nothing. Glancing at the closed doors, I got a feel for the weight. It was pretty heavy and sturdy, not easily broken, I would imagine, but I was strong.

Gripping the base, I slammed it onto the edge of the chest. The bang it made echoed through the cavernous chamber. The impact rattled my arm, and a crack split across half the width. Shifting back, I brought it down on the chest once more. The glass cock broke unevenly, causing the damaged end to be jagged and sharp.

Perfect.

Picking up the other half of the glass, I placed it back into the chest, then shut the lid and rose, the new glass dagger in hand. As close as I was to the bars, I noticed something I hadn’t seen before. They weren’t made of gold. They were painted. I saw that in the mild discoloration. Frowning, I stepped around the chest and reached out, placing my fingers on them—

A sharp, quick bite of pain danced over my fingertips, and a wave of silvery sparks briefly lit up the bars. Gasping, I drew my stinging hand to my chest as I stepped back. “What in the world?”

It had to be some sort of ward—magic fueled by Primal essence. Or something else? Whatever it was, it presented an obvious problem.

Turning from the bars, I faced a golden divan and the thick, white fur rug at its feet. The bed was piled with white and gold pillows and fur blankets and positioned directly at the center of the cage. My head turned to the chamber.

The throne sat directly in front of the bed.

Of course, it did.

After all, Kolis would want a perfect view to watch his favorites sleep or…entertain him.

Lip curling, I glanced over the round table and chair near the front of the cage, to the left of the bed.

Chains lay coiled on the floor, secured to the bedposts. My stomach hollowed as my hand moved from my chest to my throat. Much like the one Ash had broken on me, a golden band glinted in the lamplight. The taste of bile filled my mouth, and I dragged my gaze away. A privacy screen and a white chair were on the other side of the bed.

Having a good idea of what I would find, I crossed the cage and stopped beside the large, tufted chair. Behind the screen was a rather massive bathtub, a toilet, and a vanity, all secured to the floor.

The chair faced the tub.

“Fucking gods,” I snarled, the embers humming. “Could he be more disgusting if he tried?”

One would hope not, but the answer was probably a resounding yes.

I wondered how mad he’d get if I shoved what used to be a glass cock down his throat.

I turned to the standing shelf filled with towels and numerous glass bottles. There were salts, lotions, and cleansers. My gaze flicked to the vanity. A comb lay on the marble sink, along with a brush for the teeth.

The sad thing was that the inside of the cage was nicer than what I’d had at home in Wayfair Castle.

But it was still a cage, no matter the luxuries provided inside it.

I took care of my personal needs and then started to leave the bathing area. My gaze snagged on that damn chair. The arms of it were thickly padded, but there was no mistaking the imprint of fingers.

A chill swept through me as I stared. How many times had Kolis sat in that chair, his fingers pressing into the arms like they had on my hips, to leave an imprint like that? How many did he watch, not even allowing them the most basic privacy?

I felt the flames rising in my chest, spreading through my veins like wildfire. My hand trembled as I clutched the broken glass, my knuckles turning white. Holding on to that rage, I stalked past the chair. Tossing the weapon onto the bed, I returned to the chests and opened one, grabbing a white, lacy garment with slits on either side of the skirt.

Quickly, I peeled off my still-damp gown and changed into the other. It was looser, and the sleeves sat off the shoulder, but it left little to the imagination.

It was clear that Kolis liked to dress his favorites for his viewing pleasure, treating them as one would dolls.

Highly sexualized toys.

Grossed out on so many levels, I retrieved my newly fashioned dagger and sat on the floor.

And waited.

Part of me knew how foolhardy it was. I had no real plan beyond finding Ash and escaping, but anything was better than sitting in the cage and waiting for Kolis to return.

Waiting for him to move beyond looking and touching while only the gods knew what was happening to Ash.

I didn’t have to wait long.

Footsteps sounded outside the chamber. Quickly, I lay on my side with my back to the doors. I didn’t like it, but it was the only way to keep the glass dagger hidden beneath my other arm while also allowing me to react quickly with it.

My heart beat fast as I heard the doors open and then the soft click of them closing again. I lay completely still, my grip tight on the glass. I didn’t feel the stir of embers that alerted me when a Primal was near. So, it was either a guard or possibly a Revenant. If it was the latter, they wouldn’t stay dead for long.

The length of my entire back tingled with awareness as the silence stretched. I thought whoever was in the room had moved closer because the faint, sweet-but-stale scent increased, but I couldn’t be sure. Seconds ticked by but I held myself still, half-afraid I’d have to sneeze or—

“Seraphena.”

Fuck.

Recognizing the voice belonging to the Revenant, Callum, I closed my eyes. I would have to do some serious damage to keep him down for any length of time if a dagger thrown by Attes and blasts of eather hadn’t incapacitated him for long.

 And why had Attes done that? Simply because Callum annoyed him? Or because the Revenant had continued to push for Kolis to take the embers while Attes obviously didn’t want that?

Come to think of it, why was Attes so willing to believe that I spoke the truth about Sotoria?

The answer couldn’t be as simple as the Primal God of War and Accord not wanting Kolis to rise to such power because that made no sense. Not when Attes had brought me to Kolis.

But none of that mattered at the moment. I needed to focus.

“Wake up.” He sounded closer, and impatience crept into his tone when I didn’t respond. “Seraphena.”

Picturing all the ways I planned to use the broken glass on him, I remained quiet and still. I needed him to come into the cage.

A moment passed.

Then another.

“Godsdamn it,” he muttered. “How can anyone be such a deep sleeper?”

Why would he think I was asleep on the floor when there was a bed right beside me?

The clink of a lock turning was like a siren’s song to my ears. I forced my aching jaw to loosen and my breathing to slow despite my wildly beating heart.

Callum was in the cage now, but the bastard was quiet. I didn’t even hear his approach until I felt the tip of a foot nudge my leg.

“Shit,” he grumbled, sounding as if he’d knelt behind me. “If you choked on your tongue or something…” His icy hand came down on my arm.

My heart slowed as honed instinct took over. He called my name again, rolling me onto my back.

I reacted without hesitation.

Eyes opening, I shot up. Gripping the front of his white tunic, I swung my arm around and nailed the fucker right in the throat.

A flicker of surprise rippled across his painted features, widening his pale eyes. His lips moved, but the only sound that came out was a gurgle.

Blood trickled from his mouth as I tore the glass free. He smacked a hand over his throat and stumbled back.

 I didn’t let him get far.

Aiming low, I kicked him, taking his legs out from under him. He hit the floor with a nice thud, blood seeping between his fingers and running down his arm and chest—dull, red blood that smelled of stale lilacs.

Knowing he’d probably recover quickly, I moved onto my knees and straddled him, lifting the broken glass above my head.

He reached for my arm, his movements slow and weak as I drove the glass down into his throat. Blood spurted, splattering the front of my gown, the length of my hair, and my cheeks. His body jerked, his blood-soaked fingers sliding off my skin. I slammed the glass down once more, grunting when it hit the floor beneath him. What remained of his neck were a few raw, bright pink tendons.

My lip curled in disgust as I rocked back. Callum was dead. For now. I knew it wouldn’t last, so I figured the more injuries he had to heal, the better it would be for me.

Through the opening in his shirt, I saw no scar left behind from when Attes had thrown the dagger at him. But there hadn’t been any signs on the Revenant called Dyses, either, and Ash had torn his heart free.

 With both hands, I drove the glass through Callum’s chest. Flesh tore, and cartilage gave way. The glass sank deep, slicing through muscle. I hit his heart and gave the dagger a nice twist with a savage smile. Then I got him in the groin.

Just because.

Wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand, I searched his pockets, finding a single golden key. I rose and stepped over the Revenant. Not knowing how long I had before Callum resurrected, I wasted no time. Blood dripped from the broken glass as I hurried from the cage.

Outside, I gripped the bars of the door. I hissed, fiery pain erupting across my hand when I pushed the door shut. Then, quickly, I shoved the key into the lock, turning it.

“Fucker.” Sparing one last glance at Callum, I started to turn but then stopped, looking down at the key in my hand.