Page 123 of Ravenrose

This is it.

I check my thigh for what must be the five-hundredth time, checking to be sure my knife hasn’t decided to just up and walk away in the last minute or so since the last time I checked.

Nope. Still there.

Just breathe.

The sound of metal scraping against stone attacks my ears, and I rise slowly to my feet, clinging to the wall for support. I’m trying to keep my stance casual, but every muscle feels tight, like the string of a drawn bow.

The door pushes fully open, and I’m momentarily blinded by the light pouring in from the hallway torches. I blink quickly, making out a dark figure in the doorway, but between the darkness of my cell and the blinding light at his back, I can’t tell who it is. But I know—somehow—without a doubt in my mind, it’s not Ayer.

“Well, hello there, little fae.”

My breath catches as revulsion twists through my gut.

Riggs.

I shrink back before I can steel myself, an instantaneous reaction, for once seeking the shadows as a place of refuge, pressing into them as if they might hide me. My stomach violently twists at the sound of his smarmy voice.

The vile corporal steps into the darkened cell, peering further in. He can’t see me, unable to make out my shadowed form in the dark corner.

“Where are you, little fae?” he sings, far too cheerily. I wring my fingers. Riggs never would have risked coming down here if Ayer was anything but indisposed.

The corporal sways lightly on his feet.

He’s drunk.

Hope flickers to life inside me.

Drunk means sloppy. And sloppy equals opportunity.

I steal a glance past him, looking down the hall. It’s empty. He came alone.

His eyes still scan the dark corners of the cell.

Unsure if he’s spotted me yet, I inch closer, wondering if I might be able to dart right out past him.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Riggs’ tongue clicks, and I freeze. “Trying to run away already?” He smiles. “I was hoping you’d be scared.”

I swallow my panic and force myself to go still, lowering my hands and fixing my eyes on the rough stone floor.

Submissive.

Not a threat.

Just a scared, helpless, little female.

“W-where’s Captain Rusic?” I ask, forcing the stutter into my voice, hoping mention of Ayer might deter him—considering what happened last time—or piss him off.

Riggs scoffs, and I feel the ghost of a smile grace my lips when he steps closer.

“Who do you think sent me, Princess?”

I swallow. Hard. My smile fading.

“You’re part of the deal we struck tonight, little fae,” Riggs croons, taking another step forward until he’s close enough to touch.

For a moment, I forget to breathe.