12. Chapter Twelve
12
CHAPTER TWELVE
ELODIE
I t was a room—a small, neat room.
The first rays of morning were peeking through the floor-length grey curtains that framed a decent sized window, casting a subtle light through the room.
What sort of kidnappers give their prisoners windows?
Flames crackled in a small fireplace that added to the heat already in the air, though my chilled body was too on edge to allow it to warm me.
Had they been expecting me?
My pulse rocketed under my skin, thoughts matching its speed as my eyes flicked from object to object.
To the table with four chairs. A bed filled with blankets.
A painting of a fucking fruit bowl.
Quickly my gaze settled on the second door which led from the room, and my fingers itched to wrench it open, but I waited, more than aware of the giant figure watching my every move.
There was a sofa whose upholstery matched the curtains and sconces set into the dull grey walls. I took a single step forward onto the black rug that covered most of the stone floor and saw a tall chest of drawers against the wall opposite the bed.
And above the row of books which were neatly lined on top of that was a TV.
A fucking TV.
Like a mad woman, a bubble of laughter escaped me as I stood there blinking at the dark screen, something so strangely normal.
There were no chains, no bars.
Nothing to indicate I wasn’t a guest willingly staying in this palace straight out of a fairytale, but while it may be a long way from straw beds and buckets to piss in, it felt wrong—like a test.
Fingers twisting in the puncture holes from Titan’s teeth in the ill-fitting jumper which was all that kept me covered. I turned in a slow circle, somehow, I felt less exposed from the lack of clothing than I did from the icy stare that met me as I found Marcellus still watching from behind the door, his bulk blocking the only way out.
Any relief at the relative comfort of my surroundings felt false, as though it would be ripped away at any moment.
I was too tired to process all that had happened, my system crashing from the ups and downs, adrenaline no longer keeping me going as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me. But I fought to keep myself awake, if only for a little while longer.
Maybe this was all a hallucination, and in reality, I was already chained up in a dungeon somewhere.
“A guard is stationed at all times.” Marcellus’ voice was a deep timbre that scraped across my bones. “Food will be brought to you.”
My mind scrabbled with half-formed plans. How long would they take to come? Maybe once Marcellus left, I could escape before they arrived... there hadn’t been anyone with us when we walked here.
My thoughts must have been stamped over my face as his hardened. “You cannot leave.”
Not caring for pleasantries, I stood silently before him, bare legs starting to thaw as I acknowledged some small grace at the fact I would be fed but found no other silver lining.
Shoulders sagging in defeat, I accepted he was right for now; there was no way I could get anywhere in the state I was in. I didn’t even know what part of the palace I was in, let alone how to find home.
His eyes swept over me, assessing, before he nodded and turned away, black cape billowing slightly as the door shut behind him. The thud of the latch echoing through me in a painful finality.
I could feel the weight of invisible chains that would keep me locked here. The cold kiss of metal was yet to be wrapped around my wrists, but I was still a prisoner nonetheless.
“Fuck!” I hissed, panic winning the war of my emotions, gripping me in a vice as my heart twisted for one agonising moment before I forced air into my lungs.
He couldn’t leave. I didn’t want him to, didn’t want to be left alone here.
I flew at the door yanking at a handle that didn’t move and spun immediately to the only other door. It slammed open under my palms, showing me nothing but an ordinary bathroom.
The all-consuming need to get out left me with no time to be thankful for what the second door had shown me, and instead I found myself in front of the windows, ripping the curtains aside to allow the light to flood in.
No bars.
No fucking bars.
My body was shaking as I ran to the table, fingers gripping the back of one of the pointless chairs as I heaved it across the room.
I didn’t care that I was definitely not on the ground floor. It didn’t matter that I had no way of getting out other than jumping to what the distant, rational part of me knew would at best be a broken ankle.
At worst I wouldn’t need to escape because I’d be dead, splattered onto the cobbles.
All that mattered was I needed to get out.
With whatever waning strength was left to me, I hurled the chair at the window, ducking immediately and covering my head, preparing for the shower of shards that would surely follow the crash of wood against glass.
It didn’t come. The telltale crunch was missing. Instead, there was a dull thud as the chair fell to the floor, its front two legs broken from its anticlimactic impact, and my heart sank as the truth of my situation became even clearer.
I rose as fast as the panic that was churning inside me, thudding in time with my pulse as I lurched to the door that had sealed me in here, banging my fists against wood I knew I couldn’t break through.
A crackle of magik flared in my hands as I tried again, crashing against it before a pain in my chest sent me staggering back and I fell to my knees—a sharp jolt lancing up through my legs at the contact with the hard floor.
“NO!” I screamed, a sob escaping my lips as my heart was squeezed in a vice-like grip that felt as though it would explode with my next breath, hot tears falling down my face.
I managed to suck in a rattling breath as the door was thrown wide, banging into the wall and the entire doorway was filled by Marcellus. Crisp, clear air floated around me, my chest easing a fraction as it filled my lungs and I tilted back to look up at him, falling backwards as I did.
From under his hood, rage was etched into his features, eyes glowing as he reached for me. I found myself reaching for him, too, and he pulled me up like I weighed nothing. Strong arms, thick with muscle, held me enveloped within the folds of his cloak.
His myriad of weapons crushed against me but none of them marked my skin. At the contact between us the pressure in my heart ceased. My body relaxing, chest loosening as the tug was no longer painful. Instead, it almost buzzed at our proximity.
I fisted my hands in one of the leather straps across his chest as he carried me to the bed. Laying me down gently, he straightened as he brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb, his touch like lightning against my skin. His face was no longer carved with rage despite the icy gaze that seared into my soul.
I didn’t move, didn’t speak. I hardly dared to breathe. With one last look over my face he turned back to the door, fingers flexing at his sides.
“Rest, little one,” he said quietly before pulling the door shut once more.
The dull thud of the heavy wood confirmed my imprisonment, and my heart ached as I stayed curled on the bed.
There was no final click of a lock, but they didn’t need it to keep me in here. I was trapped either way.
What did they want from me?
I had nothing for these people, someone must have made a mistake. Knowing I would be going nowhere soon, I forced my body to relax into the bed, groaning as my aching muscles sank gratefully into the soft covers.
For once I didn’t try to fight the call of sleep. I needed it, desperately. I let my stinging eyes flutter closed hoping that when I woke, I could figure out a plan to leave. To go home.