“B-bitch,” I mumble. My body still twitches as she walks out, leaving the dress pooled on my bed. When my body eventually stops shaking on the ground, I climb to my feet and get intothe shower. If I don’t behave, as she puts it, she’ll just torture Feyre for hours. The quicker I get into that dress, the quicker she shows me off to the court, and the quicker I get back in here, and Feyre is safe as she can be.
Visiting the court does have its slight advantages…I look at the faces of all the people I am going to kill when I get a chance. One day, something will change. Someone will make a mistake and I will get free.
Then the Vian will know what a monster truly is.
After towel-drying my hair the best I can, I climb into the dress. It’s tight, clinging to my figure and underwear, with gauzy parts going down to my wrists and a small cloak falling off my back. It’s pretty, if over the top, though not so different from what everybody else will be wearing, from what I’ve seen of their court life. I braid my hair, leaving a few bits out. Even though they’re damp, they’re soon dry. I touch the collar around my neck, feeling how sore my skin is underneath it from where I’ve tried and failed to pull it off.
“You look presentable. You are too thin, sister. You don’t eat enough. I’ll have to make the guards force you to eat more.” I don’t bother turning as she comes in, standing too close.
But what is the point of eating? It would only make me stronger for her to use my power. She hooks my arm through hers and drags me forward. My skin crawls where she touches me, and I have to think of Feyre and my warning to behave. I’ve mapped out the way from my room to the entrance of the cellar. It’s a small, tight corridor before we get to an even tighter staircase. The doors are guarded, five young soldiers on each side. That would be nothing if I still had my Nexus and this collar weren’t holding her back.
The guards part for us and open the door. I shiver as we step out into the warmth and bright light of the main part of the mansion. At least they keep the heating on above thedungeon. Everything up here is rich in taste, from the carpets to the glittering chandeliers that hang from the ceiling. Orchestra music plays softly in the distance, and the smell of rich food fills my senses. Everything is pretty overwhelming as Georgina drags me forward, through one room and into a packed ballroom from a side entrance.
People—Vian, as I’ve learned, and a few half-breeds—stop and stare. Many bow their heads to Georgina. Some do not. She drags me through the crowds towards the platform with a single throne, where the king sits lazily, his head resting on his hand. The immortal king, who manipulated this world for his own purpose. He killed my mates in my past life; he destroyed the Gods and broke us all. He smirks when he sees me, and Georgina immediately bows. When I do not, my sister’s hand presses into my lower back until I manage some kind of a bow, and I straighten up immediately when she lets go.
“I was impressed with the destruction of New York. The humans are, let’s just say, more agreeable now to my terms.” He softly praises Georgina, who beams. I roll my eyes and look at the floor. “They are open to negotiations of us being their true rulers, as it should have always been, and helping us hunt down the remaining Nexus and find the last Nexus city.” I feel his eyes drop to me. “All of this would be a lot easier, of course, if you’d tell me where the city is, Gwenieve.”
Fuck it. I lift my head and lock eyes with him. “Take the collar off and I’ll tell you…with my hand wrapped around your heart and my nails ripping the rotten thing to shreds.”
His eyes tighten. “Torture it is. Tomorrow then. I do begin to enjoy our weekly sessions.” He laughs. “Eventually you’ll talk. They always do.” I stare emptily at him, knowing that I won’t break. Torture doesn’t work on me, and I don’t care what he does. The chances are my mates are in that city, and my aunt too. My best friend. They’re all I have left, and there is no chance Iwill ever give up that city. “Take her for a tour around and then back to her cage. She seems a bit rabid tonight, like a horse that needs breaking in.”
“Of course, my king,” Georgina sweetly responds, gripping my wrist and tugging me with her.
I still hear the king talking to one of his court. “We’ll break her tomorrow. She is a pretty little thing; we can find someone to break her in new ways.” He says this to one of his guards, the two of them laughing as I walk away. My back stiffens and I try not to panic. It doesn’t work, the panic sets in and I barely hear Georgina as I’m dragged around the court, shown off to people like a prized gun.
I walk a few more steps and I feel it—like a pang of hope in my chest. I almost stop, almost stumble. Georgina is focused so much on me that I don’t dare show any reaction, even as my entire soul bursts to life. I haven’t felt anything like that in so long that it takes me a second to recognise it.
One of my mates is here.
A warm hand presses against mine, a brief touch—a paper note along with something heavy—presses into my palm. I clutch my hand around it quickly, then casually I drop forward and groan in pain. I slide the paper and whatever is in it into my bra as Georgina tries to tug me upright. “What’s wrong with you?” Georgina pulls at my arm.
“Stomach pains.” I act. “I might throw up.”
Georgina pales, and I hide my smirk as she drags me away. I search around the court, but the feeling is gone. I’m sure one of my mates is here. I try to keep my heart rate slow, try not to show any emotion other than pain, and I fake clutching my stomach. Georgina wastes no time throwing me into my cage and storming off. The minute I hear her footsteps fade away, I climb into the bed, curling into the corner and pulling out what was pressed into my hand.
A key falls out of a paper note. Not just any key, but a key I’ve seen a hundred times. The key to my collar. I turn the paper over, and my heart races. One sentence. One name.
Undo the collar at midnight, kill them all, And we will do the rest.
Yours always,
Rhodes
Chapter
Two
It’s difficult to know the exact time in this place, but midnight and midday are easy thanks to the loud clock bell that chimes twice a day. The key is burning in my hand as I pace up and down my room, knowing it cannot be long now until midnight. The sun set a long time ago. It’s always so silent outside my cage, and I figure my cage can’t be in the Vian city—this is someplace new, different and likely difficult to escape from. If he took me back to the Vian city, it meant that Severi could have got to me, or got someone to me, by now. Rhodes, Hollis too—they know the city too well. This place must be new to them. I can’t believe they didn’t look for me, that they might have given up on me like Georgina suggested. No, they would have been searching.
I cling to the key and Rhodes’s letter in my hours of waiting; having some connection to my mates is everything to me. I wait, hoping that when I make my next move, I’m not too weak. I’ve stuffed down all the remaining food I can find to give my Nexus a bit of strength, but I imagine her anger will be all the fuel she needs.
I wait. The clock finally chimes, thick, heavy bells ringing above whatever this place is. My hands shake as I lift the key tomy collar and click the key into the lock. It falls off with a clank on the ground, and I take a deep breath. My magic floods me instantly, and my knees slam onto the floor as my Nexus blasts into my mind—fury and anger and pain, all of it so prominent it’s enough to overwhelm me in a heartbeat.
“We need to get out. With Feyre,” I manage to pant to her, the world spinning before my eyes. I’m going to pass out. “You need to take over. I’m not strong enough to do this for us. Kill them all, Nexus.”
“With pleasure,” she murmurs into my mind. I feel the transformation like I am welcoming an old—psychopathic—friend. My skin drains of colour and my nails turn sharp and black. My Nexus’s magic spreads around the room in a soft grey wave, hovering around us. My Nexus, nothing but a storm now, heads towards the door and rips it straight off the hinges. She turns to the cell next to ours and rips the door off, looking in at the small bundle on the bed. Feyre looks just as awful as I do, underfed and covered in bruises, but there is a spark in her eyes as she lifts her head to look at us.
“Gwen? How—is that your Nexus?” she murmurs, her voice cracking. My Nexus turns around without a word. Feyre is smart enough to climb to her feet and follow.