My stomach recoiled so violently it felt like it was trying to turn itself inside out.
Heat surged up my throat, and the next second I was bent forward, gagging until the taste of bile burned my tongue.
Nothing ca up except a sour, bitter string of spit, but I couldn’t stop the retching. Each convulsion left weaker, my muscles limp, my limbs shaking.
I didn’t even realize I’d gone slack until a warrior’s grip clamped around my arm. His fingers were like iron, unyielding as he dragged out of the cell.
My boots scraped over stone, catching on uneven edges, but he didn’t slow.
The sound of the dungeon faded behind us, replaced by the steady thud of his boots and the pounding in my ears.
The air grew warr as we climbed, but it didn’t make it easier to breathe.
The damp chill of the underground still clung to my clothes, seeping into my bones. My body moved where the warrior pulled it, my mind still locked on the cold, final image of Stella.
When we stepped into the main hall, the light from the high windows stabbed at my eyes, forcing to squint. The warrior’s grip didn’t loosen as we passed the wide stretch of polished stone.
That’s when I saw her.
Esther.
She was coming in through the great doors, the sweep of her skirts gliding over the floor like a silken shadow.
Her posture was perfect, her steps unhurried, as if the whole manor had been waiting for her. The mont her gaze found , her lips curved.
It wasn’t the smile she gave at formal dinners, the one painted on for the sake of civility. This one was slow and deliberate, edged with sothing dark.
Wicked. The kind of smile that said she didn’t just know what had happened – she had planned it.
I felt the salt of dried tears tightening the skin of my cheeks. I must have looked exactly how she wanted to. Dragged, broken, humiliated. She would drink in the sight of it.
And in that mont, I knew.
It was her. It had to be her.
She would never let go. Never think I’d suffered enough. Whatever cruelty she had left to give, she’d find a way to give it.
The warrior shoved forward before I could hold her gaze any longer.
We moved down the corridor toward my chambers, each step dragging farther from the light of the main hall.
When he opened my door, it was with a push that sent stumbling inside.
I caught myself against the floor, the shock of the impact shuddering through my arms. The door slamd shut behind .
I stayed where I’d fallen, slumped on the floorboards, trembling so hard my teeth nearly chattered.
The tears ca again, hot this ti, pouring down my face in an endless stream until the front of my dress was damp.
If my assumption was right, if Esther had orchestrated all of it, then Stella’s death was on . I’d walked right into the trap she’d set, and Stella had paid the price.
And Finn...
A sick, heavy certainty settled in my gut.
He must have known.
He couldn’t afford to lose Esther’s father, the Chief Beta, his strongest ally. To go after her would be to risk his political standing, maybe even his place on the Unified Alliance. A maid’s life was nothing in comparison.
And beyond politics... there was the simple fact that Esther was his lover.
Of course he would cover for her.
Wouldn’t he?
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been crying.
Ti had lost its shape, stretched thin until it felt like hours could have passed or only minutes. My chest ached from the sobs that had wrung dry, and my throat burned raw.
The floor beneath was pressing into my legs until they’d gone numb, but I didn’t have the strength to move.
It wasn’t until a faint shuffle stirred the air in front of that I lifted my head.
A crow stood there, right inside my room, its claws curled delicately against the floor.
The light outside had changed while I hadn’t been looking. The window’s edges glowed faintly with the last traces of daylight, and beyond that, the sky had already begun to sink into deep indigo. Night had crept in without my notice.
The crow tilted its head at , glossy black eyes catching the dim light.
It felt like it was studying . Not with the blank stare of an animal, but with sothing softer, as if it understood the weight crushing my chest, as if it was sad for too.
A small roll of paper was tied neatly to its leg.
With fingers that still trembled, I reached forward. The crow didn’t shy away, only ruffled its feathers lightly as I untied the ribbon and slid the paper free.
I unrolled it and saw the familiar elegant handwriting.
My breath hitched.
’If justice is what you seek, escape that hell of a place.’
Escape.
The word lodged itself in my mind, heavy and dangerous.
Stella’s face rose in my thoughts. The kindness in her eyes, the quiet ways she had cared for when no one else did. Then the mory shifted, and I saw her again in that cell. The whip. The blade. The sound of her body hitting the floor.
And Finn, watching without flinching. Choosing to let it happen.
If justice was what I sought, I would never find it here.
My fingers curled around the slip of paper until it crinkled, the edges biting into my palm.
My stomach twisted.
I would not be the mother of his child. Not after what he had done. Not after he had shown , again and again, that he would choose power over rcy without hesitation.
I wanted nothing to do with him.
Nothing to do with this place.
The note lay open in my hand, the ink dark and sharp against the pale paper. For the first ti in days, sothing other than grief flickered inside .
Resolve.
I pushed myself off the floor, my legs unsteady but my mind made up. I didn’t know who the crow belonged to, or why they wanted free, but I knew this:
I would escape.
User Comments
0 comments from readers