glow, but I could make out the silhouette of a guard, the one who had stripped me in the washroom.
“Get up,” he barked.
I couldn’t move, my heart pattering against my ribs.
“I said.” He reached down, grabbing me by the arms and tugging me up. “Get. Up.” His closeness made my skin twitch. I had the urge to snarl and bite his hands.
“How did you enjoy three days in the hole?” His eyes glinted, a sneer upping his mouth. A deep white scar hooked up his top lip; otherwise, he was very nondescript for a fae. “Want three more?”
My fuzzy teeth clenched together.
“Answer me, 85221.”
“No.” The syllable croaked as if my vocal cords had completely lost the ability to make words.
“No, what?”
“No, sir.” I boiled inside, my lids narrowing on him. This place had fostered hate within me; it was the primary emotion driving me now.
Prisons thrived on breaking people down and rebuilding them. Maybe it worked for others—bad people. But when you broke down good people, we didn’t rise again as even nicer people. No. That’s not how it worked. We rose like a dragon, one that would spew fire and burn everything to ash.
We became the depraved.
Chapter 16
Allowed a quick restroom break, I brushed my teeth, peed, and washed my face. The fae guard observed my every move with a perpetual sneer on his face. He enjoyed watching me, especially on the toilet.
I stared back at him, detached and unrelenting, like a creepy child in a horror movie.
He stirred on his feet as if he didn’t anticipate my response. He expected me to be a lump of clay with my head lolling forward. A broken toy. Obedient. Debased.
“Hurry up,” he barked, jerking away from me, heading for the door. “Breakfast is almost over, but if you hurry, I’m sure you can lick the crumbs off plates in the bin.”
A flush of anger throbbed at the back of my neck, but I swallowed it down, getting up and washing my hands. My eyes lifted to the scratchy metal mirror above the sink.
My face was thinner, highlighting my already sharp features and making me look more severe and intimidating. Wounds still marred my lip and eye, but the swelling was gone, and only light bruises were left. My eyes were the most unsettling. The inky color resembled pools of death, and if you looked closely, you would fall into the flames of hell. The girl in the mirror was a stranger. Cold. Empty.
“Come on,” he snarled, then stood up straighter when my eyes landed on him. He stalked out into the hallway, heading to the mess hall.
The space was abuzz with noise and activity, smelling of waterlogged oats and eggs, with a dusting of burned coffee. There were moments in the hole when my stomach ached so badly from hunger it clawed and tore at the seams, and the thought of even this garbage food sounded heavenly.
Now I felt nothing. I was past hunger, past exhaustion, past sanity. They wanted to rip the humanity out of me? I hoped they were ready for what they asked for.
I stood at the entrance, staring into the room. My return was whispered throughout the room, heads whipping toward me, voices dropping away. Tess, Mio, and Dee swiveled around, their faces still looking like used punching bags. Tess stood up, but Mio grabbed her arm, pulling her down again, shaking her head.
My gaze glossed over the crowd, catching on a face in the back. His turquoise eyes were a beacon in the night, drawing me in from a turbulent sea. Alone, sitting on his bench, his boot perched on the opposite seat, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
The bored king.
He didn’t move or respond, but the heaviness of Warwick’s eyes tried to pin me to the floor again. This time I shoved back with my own, one of my eyebrows lifting. Defying. The one thing I promised myself in the hole was no one would control me. They could beat me, starve me, torture me, but my mind and will were mine.
You may scare everyone and dominate this room, but you will not rule me.
As if he sensed my rebellion, his lip lifted, in a smirk or a threat, I could not tell. I didn’t move, didn’t look away. Everyone else around us disappeared, becoming blurry images in my periphery. Heat licked at the base of my spine, fear and anger riding up.