Chapter Thirty-Two
Joy
Brynn's gentle hands clasped my trembling arm, her fingers warm and reassuring against my chilled skin. She helped me out of the bathtub with infinite care, water cascading from my body in rivulets that splashed softly onto the stone floor. My legs shook like a newborn fawn’s as I stood, my body still battered and broken, pain shooting through my torn flesh with every shift. But beneath the pain, a fierce satisfaction burned in my chest; my shadows were at my command again. That knowledge alone gave me the strength to keep moving.
She guided me slowly across the cold floor, my bare feet leaving wet prints on the stone as we made our way to an ornate chair positioned in front of an elaborate mirror. The reflection that stared back at me was almost unrecognizable—hollow-eyed, gaunt, marked by violence—but alive. Still breathing. Still fighting.
"I'll put some salve on your wounds. I've used it myself many times." She opened a small ceramic jar with delicate hands, and immediately a fragrant, flowery scent filled the air—sweet andclean, like a meadow after spring rain. The aroma was so pure it almost brought tears to my eyes after breathing nothing but dungeon stench for hours.
She moved behind me. I tested, waiting for more pain, but the first gentle touch of the salve against my ravaged back was a pleasant surprise. The tension in my muscles slowly unwound and I took a deep breath. A calmness rolled over me that I hadn’t experienced since I’d been here. Was this flower a drug?
At the moment, I didn’t care. The salve was silky and luxurious against my torn skin, immediately beginning to ease the ceaseless pulsing pain that had become my unwelcome companion. "It's quite healing," she murmured, her fingers working with practiced gentleness.
The lulling sensation was so profound I nearly sobbed with gratitude. "What's it called?"
"Syl'nareth. It grows deep in our mountains—a rare yellow flower that blooms only in the darkest places."
I closed my eyes and let the healing warmth seep into my wounds as the relentless fire in my back diminished to a manageable ache. "It really helps ease the pain."
"I know." Her response was quiet, heavy with unspoken memories. "It's always helped me through the worst times."
Her words brought me out of feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t imagine how many times Brynn had suffered in this place. Darius had to get her out of here before it was too late. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would leave a beaten innocent behind. Or at least I hoped he wouldn’t.
She combed out my hair and then blew it dry, her touch gentle and methodical. My black hair draped over my shoulders, but when I caught my reflection in the mirror, I flinched. My cheek had turned a mottled purple, and my eye was beginning to swell shut.
“Let me put someSyl'narethon your face.” Her voice was soft, almost apologetic, as if the bruises were somehow her fault.
I closed my eyes as she dabbed the salve on, the coolness soothing against my throbbing skin. The tension in my shoulders eased slightly.
“It should stop the swelling.” She capped the jar and set it aside with a quiet clink. “I’ll get your dress.”
I looked at it with dread. White. Sacrificial. While she got it, I put lotion on my battered body. Bruises spotted my legs and arms, but nothing was as torn up as my poor wrists. The skin was raw and abraded where the silver cuffs had bitten in, angry red welts circling each wrist like gruesome bracelets. In some places, the flesh had split, leaving behind crusted blood and exposed tissue that stung with every movement.
Enzo. My chest tightened at the thought of his handsome face, his strong arms, the fierce way he'd always tried to protect me.
He had to be alive.
What would Enzo do when he saw me? The question made my chest ache. He'd lose his mind. Rage. Demand blood. And the twisted part? I wanted that. Needed someone to see what they'd done to me and actually give a damn. I looked like I'd gone three rounds with a prize fighter and lost, and I was so tired of being Ari and the queen’s punching bag.
“Time to get dressed. I think Ari will be here soon.”
I looked at the dreaded gown I wanted to rip to shreds. But if I did, knowing Ari, he’d make me walk out naked.
She slipped the gown over my head, and unfortunately, it fit me perfectly. It made me feel dirty. But then Ari had posed as Maximo Barone who was a human trafficker.
I wasn't sure how long he'd posed as Maximo, but I had a feeling it had been a while. Ari had been planning this—all of it—for god knows how long.
There was a knock on the door and every muscle in my body tensed. This was it.
“Is she ready?”
Brynn hurried over to the door to let Ari inside. He cast his gaze over me. My stomach churned, and I had to fight the urge to shrink back against the wall. I wouldn’t give Ari the satisfaction.
“Good. The queen’s army is ready.” His eyes shone with victory. “Soon the Dark Demons will be in power again.”
I forced my arms to stay at my sides, even though every inch wanted to wipe that smirk off his handsome face.
He gestured with his arm. “This way, slave.”
