Chapter Twenty
Joy
I leaned my head against the cold stone wall, the rough surface scraping against my scalp like sandpaper. All hope died in that moment. I was completely defeated in this godforsaken place.
The man’s chains clinked musically as he shifted to look at me, the sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence. “Don’t mind me asking, but who are you?”
I sighed heavily, my breath visible in the frigid air like a ghost escaping my lips. “I’m nobody.”
“Come on, tell me your name at least.” Surprisingly, his voice held a warmth that seemed impossible in this frozen hell. “I’ll tell you mine—Darius Acosta.”
I studied him through the flickering torchlight that cast dancing shadows across his features. He didn’t have the otherworldly beauty of the Unseelie courtiers—no pointed ears or impossibly perfect bone structure that made them look like living sculptures. His face was rugged, human, with dark stubble shadowing his jaw and laugh lines that spoke of a life before this nightmare. “Are you an Unseelie?”
He snorted, a sound that bounced off the stone walls and returned to us like mocking laughter “No, thank god. I’m a Golden Demon.”
Fear shot through my veins, and I pressed myself against the wall, trying to put distance between us despite the chains. “You’re in league with Ari?”
His silver eyes blazed with such fury that for a moment they seemed to glow in the darkness. “Hell, no. He’s the fucking enemy. I’m a Golden Demon, not a fucking Dark Demon.” His hands clenched into fists, the chains cutting into his already raw wrists.
“Is that fucker here?” Darius’ voice turned deadly quiet, filled with venom.
What little fight I had drained out of me. “Yes, he’s the one that forced me to come here.”
He blinked in confusion, his brow furrowing. “How did he open the portal? I’ve been trying for years to get back.”
“He didn’t.” Shame burned through me, and I had to force the words out. “I did. Ari promised to kill the man who means everything to me unless I did what he asked.”
“Sounds like the fucking Ari I know. ”
“You’re from Earth, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, but to be honest, I don’t remember much of it anymore.” His expression grew haunted, hollow, as his gaze swept our stone tomb. “This place...it has ways of changing you, making you forget who you used to be.”
My skin prickled with unease that had nothing to do with the cold air. “What do you mean?”
He leaned his head back against the wall, staring off into nothing. “Reality becomes fantasy and fantasy becomes reality. After a while, you can’t tell the difference between what’s real and what this place wants you to believe.”
“You don’t remember anything about back home? Maybe like a family?” I searched his face desperately. If Darius remembered our world, maybe he could tell me things about my father, about what really happened. Information I desperately needed if I was going to survive this place.
His silver eyes grew distant, pain flickering across his features like shadows. “I vaguely remember fragments—a woman’s laugh, the smell of coffee in the morning, sunlight through windows.” He shook his head roughly, as if trying to dislodge cobwebs. “But all I’ve been doing for god knows how long is trying to escape the fucking queen.”
My stomach twisted with dread. “Why are you here? What did you do?”
His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jumping beneath his stubble. “Because she’s got this sick obsession with me; she thinks I’m her mate.” The words came out like poison, filled with disgust and rage.
I gasped, my chains rattling as I jerked back in shock. “Really? Why would she think that?”
“Ever since she first laid eyes on me, she’s been hounding me like a wolf stalking a buck.” His hands curled into fists, knuckles white with suppressed fury. “But she’s pure evil. Twisted. There’s no way in hell I’d ever be with that monster, even if it meant freedom.”
“So she locked you up?”
A bitter laugh escaped his lips, echoing hollowly off the stone walls. “I’ve escaped her dungeons more than once. Guards get complacent, make mistakes, and I’m gone like smoke.” His eyes gleamed with fierce pride despite his current predicament. “I’m fast—super fast. Superman fast. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason I’m still sane in this nightmare.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.” The words were inadequate, but I meant them with every fiber of my being. No one deserved what he’d endured.
But fear crept in behind my sympathy. If they’d done this to Darius—broken him, tortured him, stripped away his memories—would they do the same to me? How long before I couldn’t tell reality from illusion? Before I forgot Enzo, forgot myself?
Yet...he’d escaped. Multiple times. That meant it was possible. Even from this nightmare, even broken and chained, he’d found ways out. If Darius could do it, maybe I could too.
