Amaris was caught in an overload, taking in the scene unfolding around her. It wasn’t possible. No town existed within miles of Gainesville with similar architecture, but by the end of the road she could no longer contain her shock. Her jaw dropped. An elaborate castle stood, etched in gray stone with towers narrowing to points.
She pinched her eyes tight, praying it was all a mirage from the lack of sustenance and water or even a dream, but everything was still there. They trotted through a stone archway lined with torches in a wall built around the castle, wrapping around it like a fortress. Candlelit lanterns scattered the yard, casting the grass in a swarm of shadows. Everything was dark, and Amaris found herself missing her flickery porch light.
They veered to the side instead of the front where stone steps protruded from a set of wooden doors with iron swirls running along it like vines of ivy. No, they ventured toward the side entrance with steps leading down into the dark.
Theodoric slid from the horse, holding onto the reins as he grasped at his temples. He raised his hands, ready to grab hold of her waist.
“I can get off myself,” Amaris sneered. He would’ve dropped her anyways. She slid onto her belly and plummeted to the ground, the momentum carrying her back as shockwaves traveled up her shins.
“Put her there for the night, and we’ll deal with her in the morning,” Bennet grumbled, gesturing to Alan.
Technically, now that Theodoric was home, Amaris wouldn’t be abandoning her patient if she escaped. At least that was what she tried to convince herself of, because there was no way she was going into that rat-infested hole.
As Alan approached her, she recalled all Viv had taught her about self-defense, which was minimal since Amaris declined most of her offers to join her classes she taught to women. She was kicking herself now. Alan would see the kick to the groin coming—she needed something different. He grasped her arm, but his grip was nothing compared to before. He was tired. She allowed him to pull her toward the basement-like catacomb, shifting her gaze to each of the figures beginning their trek home.
With the others’ attention set to their warm beds, she waited until Alan was at the edge of the steps before she struck. She ripped free from his grasp and drove her knee into his stomach. He hunched forward, moaning in agony.
She took off. The uneven ground threatened to roll her ankles, but she needed to get away, to hide in the forest or maybe somewhere in town. She raced for the arch. Two of their cronies chased after her, darting to cut off her path, but she was too far ahead. She panted and pumped her arms as she pounded her feet into the ground. She was going to make it.
Passing into the city, she tore down the cobbled street, ignoring the shouts behind her. An alley caught her eye, but before she could escape to freedom, an arm snatched her around the waist, and they tumbled in a mass of limbs and grunts. Strong arms wrapped around her as they rolled and skidded across the street. They came to an abrupt halt in the alley, smacking into some kind of cart. She couldn’t breathe. Not because the wind was ripped from her lungs, but whoever caught her now had their knee compressed against her chest.
“Don’t…make this harder…for yourself.” Theodoric panted, attempting to catch his own breath.
“Fuck…off,” she gasped. She was growing tired of this specific encounter.
Theodoric fell forward, his hand slamming beside Amaris’s head, catching himself before his massive form crushed her.
“How are you not dead or passed out by now?”
Theodoric regained his strength as he leaned forward, further pressing his knee into her ribcage. “I don’t have the patience for this tonight.” A bead of what she was hoping was only water trickled down his nose and splashed against her cheek. “Get up before I drag you back.”
Some concussion.Apparently, Theodoric turned into an asshole when he had a headache.
“Like you have the strength right now to even stand.”
“Have it your way,” he grumbled, sending vibrations down his knee and through her chest. He scooped her up in a single movement and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Now you have the strength? Where was this when you kept falling asleep and drooling on my shoulder?” Amaris kicked her legs and beat her single fist against his back, but he seemed entirely recovered as he restrained her legs and carried her toward the dark stairwell.
The creak of an iron gate had her sinking her nails into his shirt, but he didn’t flinch. They descended the stairs into a dark and dreary basement.Scratch that, dungeon.Doors lined the walls, each one with a small window blocked by iron bars. He took her to the far end and set her in the back of the cell, locking the door behind him as he slipped out.
“Let me out of here, you bastard!”
Blatantly ignoring her, he slammed the gate at the top of the stairs behind him. Amaris was left alone with the only company being a small flame in the lantern of the even smaller cell. Stone walls kept her in. Her body was defeated and her hand throbbed as she hugged it to her chest. A wave of nausea passed over her.
She couldn’t believe it was all a dream. They weren’t supposed to be gut-wrenching and painful, but any alternative was unbelievable. Noneof them knew what she was talking about, and a castle sure as hell wasn’t within miles of Gainesville.
The smell of mold and damp stones and that subtle hint of salt wafted through the air. Regret was her new companion as she milled through her thoughts. She should have left instead of saving his ungrateful ass. She curled on her side, the cold, dirt floor sending a shiver through her chilled body. Her eyes flashed to the bedroom when Derek had smacked her across the face. It was as if she could still feel the sting of his backhand. Did he feel guilty? Did he even miss her?
Her gut tightened. She couldn’t tunnel herself into despair, not now. Scanning the cell, she looked for the makings of an escape plan attempting to form in her exhausted brain. A pile of hay sat in the corner and a pot resided by the door.
She managed to get to her feet, feeling the gritty stones disintegrate between her fingers. Pain burned in her hand, causing her vision to narrow. She leaned into the wall, fighting the darkness as she let out a few long breaths to clear her vision. She might have dug out all the shards of glass, but it’d done nothing for the pain. The river had likely increased her risk for an infection, and having Theodoric dig his grubby hands into her skin to fish out a few pieces hadn’t helped either. Tearing a strip at the end of her shirt, she fashioned a bandage.
She slid her other hand through the bars of the small window set in the door and felt for the lock. The metal hole and locking mechanism seemed simple. As a firefighter, she’d broken into her own fair share of buildings, but sometimes the simplest-looking locks were the absolute worst.
She didn’t have lock picks or any of her other tools, but she had her knife. She dug into her boot, her chest fluttering as she grasped the hilt. It wasn’t retractable like a pocketknife, but it was one of the few possessions from her parents she’d kept. Her hand tightened around the ribbed hilt. The black blade practically glowed in the candlelight, begging to be used.
She sent a silent prayer to her parents and an apology to hopefully notmess up the knife they’d left her. She wedged it in and began her work.
