Chapter Nineteen
Joy
Queen Alanna glanced over her shoulder. “Guards!”
The ornate doors exploded inward with a thunderous crash, and half a dozen armored guards poured into her private chambers like a black tide. Their boots hammered against the marble floor in perfect synchronization.
The lead guard scanned the chambers as if looking for danger, reminding me of Enzo. “Yes, my queen?”
“Bind her powers and take her to the dungeon.” Ice dripped from every syllable as she turned away dismissively. “She defied me and must pay for her actions.”
Terror locked my throat tight as a guard withdrew twin bracelets from his belt—dark metal that seemed to absorb light itself. They were different from Marsha’s but I knew what they were—binding bracelets.
I stumbled backward, wildly looking for a way to escape, but Ari’s fingers dug into my arm like talons. “Not so fast, little shadow,” he purred against my ear, his breath hot and rank.
I thrashed wildly, desperation lending me strength, but it was useless. A guard’s gauntleted hand seized my wrist with bruising force. The first bracelet snapped shut with a sound like breaking bones, then the second.
Agony exploded through my veins like liquid fire. My shadows didn’t just disappear—they were ripped away, torn from my very soul. I screamed.
“Stop! It hurts!” The words came out ragged and breathless.
Queen Alanna’s hand fluttered in bored dismissal. “Take her away.”
I dragged my gaze to Ari through the haze of pain still radiating from the binding bracelets. He gave me a slow smirk that didn’t reach his icy-blue eyes. “You shouldn’t have defied me, little one. You should know by now that I show no mercy.”
My defiance sank, and I stood there trembling like a little girl surrounded by monsters. Two massive guards flanked me, their gauntleted hands clamping around my arms like iron shackles. Without ceremony, they hauled me toward the doors, my feet barely touching the polished marble.
“No, please stop!” I dug my heels into the floor, fighting every inch as they wrestled me forward. The marble was too smooth, too slippery—I couldn’t find traction.
The head guard’s hand shot out, fingers tangling brutally in my hair, and yanked my head back so hard I saw stars. Pain exploded across my scalp. “Silence.”
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. Dungeon. Just the word broke my resistance. What horrors waited down there? Rats scurrying in the darkness? Or worse—things with teeth and claws? Would it be cold enough to freeze my breath? Would the air reek of decay and despair?
The binding bracelets made escape impossible. My shadows—my only weapon, my only tool for breaking free—were gone. I'd be locked in the dark with no power, no way out, completelyat the mercy of whatever the queen decided to do with me. The dungeon wasn't just punishment. It was a tomb.
As the guards dragged me down the endless hallway—my legs useless, my hope defeated—I caught sight of Brynn. Her face a mask of helpless sorrow, her dark eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her hands cracked and bleeding, the skin raw and red from scrubbing grease pits or whatever other menial tortures they’d subjected her to.
She had warned me about Queen Alanna—defy her and she’ll throw you in the dungeon.Or cut off your head if she’s feeling merciful.I should have listened. God, I should have listened.
Ahead, clusters of courtiers lingered in the torchlit hallway—men in midnight velvet discussing in hushed tones, women draped in gossamer gowns that sparkled like captured starlight. Their conversations died the moment they spotted our procession, crystal goblets pausing halfway to painted lips.
They recoiled as if I carried plague, silk skirts rustling as they pressed themselves against the tapestried walls. Their faces transformed into masks of cold indifference—no, worse than indifference. Disdain. Their perfectly sculpted features radiated disgust, as if my suffering was nothing more than an unwelcome stain on their pristine world.
A woman in emerald silk actually sneered, her jeweled fingers covering her nose as if I had offended her delicate sensibilities. A man in burgundy velvet turned his back entirely, as if a girl wasn’t being dragged to torture mere feet away.
What was wrong with these people? The question hammered in my skull as my heart shattered a little more. Didn’t they have any compassion, any shred of humanity like Brynn? Or were their hearts as frozen as their queen’s—beautiful on the surface but made of ice underneath?
The guards hauled me past the cluster of beautifully dressed monsters, too weak to fight anymore. Finally, we reached theend of the corridor where a massive door loomed before us—black iron reinforced with silver runes that seemed to writhe in the flickering torchlight.
The head guard raised his free hand, and said, “Mor’thek vel’shan dorium.”
The ancient lock clicked with a sound like breaking bones, and the door groaned open on rusted hinges, releasing the stench of damp stone and something far worse—despair made manifest.
A winding stone staircase spiraled downward into suffocating darkness, each step worn smooth by centuries of condemned prisoners. Thick cobwebs draped from the vaulted ceiling like funeral shrouds, their silken strands catching in my hair as we descended. Ancient dust motes danced in the amber glow of flickering torches mounted to the damp walls, their flames sputtering in the stagnant air.
The shadows they cast should have been mine to command, should have bent to my will and helped me escape. Instead, they mocked me—twisting and writhing just beyond my reach, as useless as I was thanks to the cursed binding bracelets that burned like brands around my wrists.
“No, please.” My voice cracked on the words, another plea joining the thousands these stone walls had already ignored. I thrashed desperately against the guards’ iron grips, my shoulders screaming in protest, but I might as well have been fighting marble statues.
