and locking them in cages when you have their magic and Orders locked away and they can't fight back. You'd just better hope you never meet me outside of this place, Mason, because I would take great pleasure in ripping your head from your body with my teeth and using my earth magic to bury you deep beneath the ground where not even the worms would find you."
The door slammed in my face and I was plunged into darkness again, left to dress myself using only the light cast by the glow of my cuffs. I sank down onto my cot, feeling insanely worn out by the use of my gifts, but just before I could lay my head back against the hard bed, my fingers found a wad of material on the cot and a smile bit into my cheeks. Officer asshole had forgotten to grab my old sweater when he ran off. I might actually be able to sleep tonight without shivering.
Thank the stars for small miracles.
But as I tugged it on and lay back once more, I released a long sigh and the smile slid from my face. I may have won a few small battles today, but I was still losing the war. And as the four walls surrounding me seemed to close in once more, I knew the nightmares were coming for me the moment I closed my eyes.
B lue balls was my name. And raging hard ons was the game.
By the sun and that dipshit of a moon, why did I decide on waiting to fuck someone special after my time in isolation? Why couldn’t I shove it in the nearest eager hole and be done with this agony? Old me would have. Old me was loose and had no standards. But dammit, I’d promised myself Rosalie Oscura and now she’d been shoved in a hole not even Plunger wanted to dick. I had to suck up this pain. But I was done waiting for my wild girl to be set free. Especially because I missed looking at her. And when she said stuff. And did that fluttery thing with her eyelashes.
I was attached to my little wild girl and I was tired of Roary glaring at me like I’d ridden all of his moms and slapped his dad while I did it. Was it so wrong that I’d let the Belorian out? Was anyone really that upset about it? Anyone who’d died was dead, and anyone who hadn’t wasn’t dead. So why were people still angry? And why did I feel…uncomfortable about it? There was a knotty, twisty lump in my stomach and an even sharper one in my throat whenever I thought of Rosalie. And I always thought of Rosalie. Not just her perky tits either, which was saying something. Those tits are extra perky though…
I ate my dinner on my own table with two helpings of gravy on my meal and four pudding pots piled up beside me. Roary Night was glaring at me again and I let my jaw fall slack to show him my mouthful of half chewed food, making him grimace and turn away. Ignoring social customs was one of the biggest weapons against society I’d ever learned to wield. If people thought you were deranged, they stayed the fuck away. Being unpredictable made me terrifying, even to guys who were bigger and stronger than me. Not that there were many of those around. But there was something about disrupting the norm that outright unsettled people. What they didn’t realise was that I wasn’t crazy. I was as free as a fucking bird. A caged bird, but still. These fuckers didn’t even have the potential to spread their wings. Whereas the second I broke out of this place, I’d be back to my lawless life and no one would ever catch me again. Happy, wild and scaring people shitless.
Rec time was my favourite part of the day and I scoffed down my food and four puddings, not even slowing to savour their creamy middles as I devoured them before abandoning my tray on the table and heading out of the room. I glanced back to see the big Bear Shifter, Pudding, gathering the pots. He always did weird shit like that. I guessed one Fae’s trash was another Fae’s treasure. But it beat me what he wanted them for. If I had to guess, I would have said he was building a carefully constructed pudding pot outfit. It’s