That I’m choking.
Heart pounding, I unravel the bandage in frantic, trembling motions and toss it aside, fingers coasting over the tender patch of ravaged skin throbbing with a deep ache.
I swallow a whimper, forcing myself to breathe slower.
Slower.
A room comes into view—all ornate gold furnishings and lapis lazuli walls. A dressing room packed full of gaudy dresses that aren’t made of much. A soaring, spectacular view of a glittering city that hides so many ugly secrets.
My room.
I look down at the pure white sheets pooled around me, tongue tingling as a wave of nausea swells.
Definitelymy room …
It’s okay,I remind myself, breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth—chapped lips thick with thirst.You’re out.
You’re useful.
I think of the little girl with red hair. Imagine finding a way to pull her free of that cage, wrap her in a hug, and tell her it’s going to be all right.
Clinging to that thought, I reach for a glass on my bedside table, almost knocking it over in my haste. I cradle it with both hands and tip it to my lips, guzzling so much water I feel it sloshing around inside my belly.
It’s going to be all right.
Shuffling sideways, I ease my legs over the edge of the bed and set my feet on the cold stone floor, a blue sleeping gown tumbling about my legs …
I swallow thickly, choosing not to think about how I was changed into this silky, strappy garment. About my long, near-perfect plait tied off with a blue bow to match, a few sprigs of hair loose from my sleep.
Sweat slicks between my breasts, down my spine as I settle the empty glass back on the table, clinging to it with a clawed hand. I hang my head forward and breathe.
Breathe.
It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get them out.
Somehow.
I cut a glance around the room, gaze narrowing on a glass jug full of water sitting atop my vanity. This deep, unquenchedneedflares within me. Like I’ve been stumbling through a dusty desert for days on end and have finally found a well.
I snatch the empty glass and rock to my feet, my body too heavy—such a contrast to my too-light head as I shuffle toward my vanity. Gripping the chair to steady myself, I pour my glass full, then drain the contents in gluttonous gulps, spilling some in my eagerness.
Slamming it down, my chest heaves as I wipe my mouth, braving a look in the new mirror that replaced my shattered one.
A tight breath cuts through my parted lips.
He took too much …
Dark circles cushion my flat, lack-luster eyes, lips hued blue, skin a sickly shade of gray—so thin in places you can see the map of my veins sketched below the surface.
I look like I just clawed back from the brink of a death that’s still clinging to my edges. How can I save a burrow of people—save aterritory—if I can barely save myself?
Your kind needs sunlight to survive. It’s why Rhordyn had you housed in the northern tower all these years. It got the most of it.
Zali’s words strike me like a slap, and my gaze shifts to the open balcony doors. To the slabs of buttery light pouring past the billowing drapes, bringing with it the smell of freshly fallen rain. My feet move of their own accord, and I drift toward the doors like I’m attached to a tugging string. The drapes part as I step onto the balcony, and warm sunshine embraces me.
I shudder from my fluttering lids all the way to the tips of my toes.
Moving past the bench, I lean against the wall for support, then lower to the ground and stretch my legs—bunching my dress up to expose more of my flesh to the sizzling rays. Flicking the straps off my shoulders, I rest my head against the stone, close my eyes, and turn my attentioninward.
