Prison Princess (Paranormal Prison) - CoraLee June Page 0,59

chest. I could feel it, and I welcomed my abilities home like a long-lost friend.

“Why are you smiling?” Dr. Brina asked while leaning over to peer at my face. I couldn’t hide the crazed bliss flooding me with every passing second. I knew now why Bhaltair didn’t want me to know about my abilities. Before, I didn’t know what I was capable of, so I couldn’t access my powers.

Now, I knew.

“You’re masochistic. I bet you like a little pain,” Dr. Brina whispered. I bit my lip to stop myself from lashing out at her. “I’ll tell you a little secret,” she replied while digging the needle further into my skin. “I do too.”

The door burst open just as I cried out, and in walked Bhaltair to the infirmary. “Why isn’t she in her cell?” he demanded. “You know the new ordinance. She doesn’t leave her cell for any reason whatsoever.”

I drew on my stores of power as he shouted.

“So you wanted her to just bleed to death on the floor?” Dr. Brina asked while putting her hand on her hip. “I’m usually supportive of such things, but I hear this one is important to you.”

“Couldn’t you have saved her in her cell? We need to bring her back now.”

I sat up with a groan. The throbbing pain in my stomach burned with intensity as the stitches Dr. Brina so expertly sewed burst open and more blood pooled around me. “Fucking hell,” she complained. “I’m not patching that up again.”

I ignored her and turned to Bhaltair. “You look scared,” I noted while tilting my head to the side. I embraced my powers, letting them fill me up as the room shook. Guards scattered around. I didn’t care if they got me though. I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to make Bhaltair pay. For ruining my life. For capturing me as a child and taking away my freedom. For hurting Cypress. For taking my birthright.

He threw his hands up, trying to conjure what was mine. But the moon didn’t obey him, she protected me.

“Fuck!” one of the guards screamed. Bhaltair stalked forward, as if prepared to attack. I flicked my wrists, and the room turned burning hot. Winds whipped around our face. My gifts were ready for vengeance.

“I’ll fucking tie you up if I have to!” he screamed while Dr. Brina pushed him out of the way and braced herself against the wall. What was once a flicker of hope within me boomed and grew to a disastrous explosion. I drank my abilities and spilled them like the blood pouring from my stab wound.

“I’d like to see you try,” I croaked just as his meaty hands wrapped around my throat. I forced the fire in my veins to burn his skin. He yelled in agony, and vines rushed up to wrap around his legs. He struggled with his hold, and weakness took hold of me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t access my power. I just stared at the man responsible for so much pain and let the world fade around me.

“Die, bitch,” were the last words he said before I gave into the pain.

Chapter Nineteen

Cypress

It was harder to break into the prison than before. Since the last time I was here, Nightmare Penitentiary had upped security. It made it more difficult to get past their wards. This place was like its own city, with separate floors and sanctions within its walls that housed different creatures of different criminal levels. It was nearly impossible to penetrate. Some people spend their entire lives trying to work out the maze of its infrastructure.

I figured it out in three days. It wasn’t hard to find a guard and blackmail him into letting me inside. Once there, I stuck to the shadows and listened to whispers about my little princess. It didn’t take me long to learn that the only interaction she had was with guards. And even more so, only high ranking guards knew she even existed.

I explored. I watched. I listened. I saw the darkest depths of the penitentiary and survived. I was here for one reason, and one reason only. Saving Layne.

On my fourth night, I found a supply closet near an angel consignment center to rest. I hadn’t slept in two days. There was no time to waste. I sat on the floor as mice scurried around me, and I listened as my heavy eyes drew closed. “A stab wound?” a deep, throaty voice said just before I fell asleep. My