She picked a direction and ran—or tried to. It was more of a stumbling lurch, bouncing off walls, Frederick's bowl sloshing dangerously. The corridors all looked the same. Ice-touched stone, frozen windows, endless doors that could hide anything.
Footsteps behind her. Unsteady but gaining.
"Briar." Malachar's voice, thick with the pollen but conscious. Angry. "The collar will bring you back. You know this."
She turned a corner and found stairs. Down was the only option—down toward the dungeons, toward Karse and Thaine. Her legs barely managed the steps. Twice she almost dropped Frederick. The collar's drain was constant now, feeding on her desperate need to escape.
The golden dust clung to her hair, her dress, leaving a trail anyone could follow. Her vision kept trying to narrow, to fade into the welcoming darkness of sleep. But Malachar was behind her, and if he caught her now, after what she'd done—
She kept moving, deeper into the frozen heart of the mountain, clutching Frederick's bowl like the lifeline it was.
The stone steps descended into darkness, each one requiring her full concentration. Hold the wall. Move foot. Don't drop Frederick. The collar pulled steadily at her strength, interpreting every movement away from her room as defiance. The pollen made everything feel like she was moving through honey.
She missed a step near the bottom, her knee cracking against stone. Frederick's bowl flew from her hands, water arcing through the air as it clattered across the floor. She heard it rolling, the tinny sound echoing off frozen walls, but couldn't see where it had gone in the dim light.
"No—" She crawled forward on hands and knees, feeling for the bowl, for Frederick, for anything. The floor was ice-cold, numbing her fingers instantly.
Light ahead. The soft glow from the occupied cell. She crawled toward it, dress dragging through the frost that coated everything. Her body wanted so desperately to sleep, to just lay down on the frozen stone and let the darkness take her.
"Briar?" Thaine's voice, sharp with alarm.
She reached the bars, fingers wrapping around them for support. The metal burned with cold, but she couldn't let go. Through blurring vision, she saw them—Thaine pressed against the bars, Karse behind him barely conscious, his scales now almost completely gray.
"What did he—what happened to you?" Thaine's hands covered hers through the bars.
She tried to speak but her tongue wouldn't work properly. The words came out slurred, incomprehensible. The keyring slipped from her numb grasp, hitting the floor with a metallic clatter.
"Dusk Blooms," She managed to get the words out, though they sounded wrong, thick. "The flowers. Made him sleep, but I breathed some…"
Footsteps on the stairs, slow and deliberate.
"No." She tried to stand, to run, but her legs wouldn't respond. The collar had taken too much, the pollen clouded everything. She could only kneel there, clinging to the bars, as Malachar descended into view.
His hair was disheveled, golden pollen still dusting his shoulders. His eye blazed with rage that made the temperature drop another degree.
"Clever little thing," he said, voice deadly soft. He moved closer, and she tried to crawl backward but her body wouldn't obey. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The disrespect you've shown?"
He grabbed her arm, hauling her upright. Her legs trembled, refusing to hold her. She was conscious but barely, everything swimming in and out of focus.
"Look at you. Can't even stand." He pressed her against the bars, his body caging hers. "All that effort to escape and you ran straight to them. As if they could help you. As if anyone could."
His hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. A whimper escaped her and she heard Karse curse. "Maybe you wanted them to see? Wanted to show them how well you’re learning to surrender?”
Then he kissed her, hard and punishing, right there in front of them. She couldn't fight, couldn't even turn away, the collar and pollen having stripped her of everything but consciousness. He made sure it lasted, made sure they watched, his mouth cold and invasive against hers.
When he pulled back, she saw Thaine's hands white-knuckled on the bars and Karse trying to rise.
"Remember this," Malachar said to them, though his eye stayed on her. "This is what defiance brings. This is what happens when you forget who holds the power here."
He scooped her into his arms, her head lolled against his shoulder, the world spinning. From this angle, she could see Frederick's bowl overturned near the wall, thepuddle of water spreading. Frederick himself, just a glimpse of translucent form in the water, trying to maintain cohesion.
No.
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening," he told Thaine and Karse. "Tomorrow, Lord Malus arrives, and you'll all understand what true ownership means."
He carried her from the dungeon, her vision fading in and out. The last thing she saw was Thaine dropping to his knees by the bars, his hand stretching through, reaching for something on the floor.
