Chapter Three #2
Panic spikes through my veins as my attention darts around the room. Scrambling through the bedroom, the soft covers of the bed brush my palms and I tear them off before hurling them over the reflection wall.
I breathe out a silent sigh. The fuck is up with that?
Is that girl in the mirror the one he wants me to be? Because fuck all that. I will cut off his cock and make a serpent stew out of it. Serve it to him on the coals of a dragon’s nest, and laugh as I watch it burn his lips from his face.
There’s a rap on the door but I don’t bother turning. Anyone willing to try to kill me is either worth dying for, or worth the killing.
“Haide, hello, I’m Anaya, your handmaiden and confidant.”
I turn at her announcement because she’s neither of those things. But she is fucking stupid.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She blinks at me, half of her face veiled behind a thin piece of white cloth.
Her eyes are as blue as mercy, her skin pristine, not at all like mine.
“Your handmaiden. I am honored to be here. Before you, females were not allowed to work the royal home per the fallen Queen Cosima’s orders, as her sons lived under this roof. My job is to help you—”
I take a step closer.
Her attention drops to my feet before slowly crawling back up to my face. Her fear leaves a stale smell in the air, not quite potent enough to drown out Lord Asshole’s though.
“Oh really?” I ask, studying her. What did she look like beneath the veil? “And who sent you?”
Her legs tremble. “Ah—it, it was King Lege—”
My hands are on her cheeks in an instant and I twist until I feel the bones in her neck snap.
Tossing her body down to the floor, I don’t blink, keeping my focus pinned on the small frame on the wall. A black box stares back at me.
Straightening my shoulders, I finally blink when my vision burns. “I don’t speak royal.” I shrug down at the dead girl. “Sorry.”
I pause.
Ooooh. She’s not coming back to life…’cause we’re not on the island.
Shit. I could have asked her about the fucking tub before eliminating her. That would have been so much smarter.
Maybe my kill streak has gone soft and she’s still breathing?
I lift the veil from her face. Flawless skin that reminds me of something I’ve never witnessed. It’s a feeling. Nothing like her could ever exist on Exile Island. For good reason.
The veins in her neck are swollen against the newly purple shade of her skin.
“Damn. No chance of you telling me how to get clean then, is there?” I joke, pushing back to my feet just as the door creaks behind me.
“Good morning, Haide!” The first thing I notice about the new girl is the brilliant crimson shade of her hair. “I’m your new maiden,” she starts, until her attention shifts to the body on the floor. For a moment, I see it. That flicker of weakness that spreads over her features.
That is why I will never see anyone for more than what they are.
Prey.
Her shoulders stiffen. She’s small. Maybe smaller than the first girl, but when I take the first step, her body doesn’t tremble. She doesn’t cower. Her gaze burns with brown ember. She smells of something sweet that I can’t place, and—
My focus sharpens. “Do you smoke?”
She hesitates. “Maybe.”
My brows lift.
She crosses her arms, shrugging. “Okay whatever, yeah, I do. Why? You gonna snitch? Because let me tell you, I don’t even want to be here. Honestly, I volunteered as soon as Anaya’s orb turned black. Figured you might just be as foolish as we’ve heard and kill me too so I can ascend and—”
“Stop talking. Give me a fire breath.”
She glances between my outstretched hand and my face. “A what?”
“Don’t play games, girl. I’m already itching to use my hands on someone again. Share.”
“Share…” She blinks and then her eyes widen. “Wait, you want a cigarette.”
I glare because—is that what I’m asking for?
“You’re in the Royal Wing.” She starts to shake her head. “I’m going to go ahead and say you shouldn’t be smoking. There is a designated space for that.”
“There is ?” I fake innocence. “Well, do I look like someone who gives a fuck about designated spaces…” I trail, waiting for her name.
“Sahara.”
“Sahara.”
Her tongue dampens her bottom lip before she rolls her eyes and dives into her pocket, whipping out a small tin.
I snatch it and flick it open. Plucking one of the skinny trunks out, I place it between my lips and light the end with a flick of my wrist. “Tell me, Sahara. How the fuck do I work this damn tub?”
The girl’s fiery brows jump on her pretty face. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she looks me over for the first time.
Her nose twitches at the sight of my boots, the daggers tucked into them, and the sheath that’s strapped to my upper thigh.
Her gaze traces the strips of leather across my stomach, up over my chest, and then follows the length of my braided hair, settling on the two tiny stones embedded in the skin beside my temples.
Finally, her eyes come back to mine as she speaks with a low tremor. “Where did you come from?”
My chuckle is pitch-black, and I hold a hand out for the little creature of a girl. “Hell, maiden girl. Hell. Now, about this whole getting ready thing…”
…
The bedroom door crashes open just as I pluck another “cigarette” —weird name honestly—from the tin.
Sahara freezes, her attention darting between me and my blood-stained shirt, then down at her dead friend, who I borrowed it from. “Ah…I don’t think that’s quite what they had in mind when they said make you presentable…”
Inhaling, I allow the smoke to sear through my lungs before my mouth forms a perfect O and I blow smoke rings at her pale face.
“Listen. I don’t really want to kill you, and that’s an unfamiliar feeling, so this could be fleeting.
Don’t ruin it by trying to tell me what to wear.
I won’t listen anyway, and you’ll just end up… you know. Dead. Probably.”
I keep the sheath at my thigh, strapped over the fishnet tights and, since there was no leather in the closet, I decided to tear mine into a makeshift skirt. “It truly is a great shirt.”
“There’s, like”—Sahara gestures to the front with trembling fingers—“blood splatter all over it?”
I turn, blinking innocently, and place my hands on her delicate shoulders. “Oh no. What ever will we do about that?” A burst of manic laughter spills from me as I spin around. I’m ready to roll. “So now what, little maiden?”
“Now, we wait.”