Chapter 5
Balancing a breakfast tray in each hand, I turned and pushed the door open with my back. The strained creak of the old, rusty hinges echoed through the hallway, each screech a reminder of how ancient this place was.
Unlike most dungeons, ours wasn’t buried underground. Instead, it’s housed in one of the largest stone buildings near the command center. Up here in the mountains, the ground is nearly impenetrable—solid rock and stone. Digging below the surface would take more work than we could ever spare.
So they built and reinforced everything above ground using construction techniques from when the Hollow was first established after the Battle of Mareki.
Our huts might look flimsy, like they’d blow apart in a strong wind, but in reality, they’re the most resilient structures up here.
Out of everything—us included—the buildings are the only things guaranteed to outlast another war.
I clicked my tongue, the sharp sound echoing down the empty hall like I was calling a stray pup.
As I approached his cell, I tried to think of some clever jab to throw his way but came up empty.
After yesterday, I didn’t have the energy for another one-sided sparring of wits.
It felt pointless—bickering with myself, since he still hadn’t said a word.
Shayde sat in the same spot as always, slouched against the wall with his arms draped over bent knees. His head rested back, eyes closed. Anyone else might think he was sleeping, but I knew better. And I didn’t give a fuck about him trying to find his peace.
I lifted the wicket with my boot and slid his tray through the bars. “Eat up, Snake. Time to rise and shine,” I cooed, my voice dripping with malice. Settling against the bars opposite his cell, I made myself comfortable for the start of my morning shift.
My tray held the usual breakfast rations for this quarter: a wooden bowl of oatmeal, a banana, two slices of buttered toast, small cubes of cheese, and a mug of tea.
I nudged the oatmeal aside and peeled the banana, biting into it as I mumbled through a mouthful. “I know you’re not asleep, Snake. You can drop the act. Pretending won’t make me leave you alone.”
No answer.
Another morning of playing the hard way.
I glanced around the space, searching for a pebble. Once I spotted one, I channeled my earth element, flicking the pebble straight at his face.
Without even opening his eyes, Shayde caught it midair, reflexes sharp as lightning. Slowly, he opened his eyes, narrowing them into a pointed glare while keeping his head against the wall.
His deep brown eyes, shadowed beneath hooded lids, locked onto mine. The longer strands of his brown hair fell loosely to one side, while the shaved sides had grown out just enough over the past few weeks to obscure the dragon mark etched on the left side of his skull.
As much as I wanted to leave his ass on the mountain peak that day, orders were orders.
My task was to bring in anyone involved in the act that almost ruined Arya for good.
After our healers treated Shayde and declared him healthy, they handed him over to me, and I was pleased to toss him into this cell.
It made my fucking year.
“He’s awake! Yay!” I clapped my hands together in mock excitement. “I just love our little chats. Honestly, you’re the highlight of my mornings.”
He flicked the pebble back at me.
I feigned exaggerated shock. “Oh, that was rude. Guess you’re asking for Mean Fallon today, huh? Fine by me—she’s my favorite, anyway.”
With a grin, I channeled another pebble, aiming for his face as I popped a cube of cheese into my mouth. He caught it effortlessly—but what he didn’t expect was the second pebble I sent half a second later, attacking from the right.
He let out a grunt, and I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
“You gonna speak today, Snake?” I taunted.
“That’s not my name.”
A flicker of surprise coursed through me, but I kept my expression hard as stone. Until now, the only words we’d wrung out of him were requests to see her.
My sister.
Who, as fate would have it, was here in the Hollow—just a few huts away from the command center. Not that it mattered. She had locked herself away in her own imprisonment, too much of a coward to face the truth she was running from.
I dramatically dropped the banana peel into the bowl of oatmeal.
“Eh, Shayde. Snake. I think Snake suits you better. Came up with it on the way over. I mean, you keep playing the part, don’t you?
A snake in the grass, slithering around, refusing to talk.
If you’d just work with us…” I arched a brow, letting the question hang between us.
No answer.
Leaning back against the bars, I let out a sigh. “Have it your way. Just means more chats with me every morning.”
“My own personal hell,” he muttered, voice dripping with disdain.
Biting back the urge to respond with a well-aimed pebble to his face, I deadpanned, “Eat your food.”
No answer.
Of course not. Every morning, it’s the same routine. Shayde refuses to touch his tray while I’m here, sitting in stubborn silence like it’s some grand act of defiance. Yet the guards confirm he eats once I’m gone, devouring every crumb as if I’d never been here at all.
As if sharing a meal in my presence is the one thing he can’t fucking stomach.
I glared into his deep brown eyes, my fingers trembling as anger surged through me, hot and unrelenting. The prickle of heat against my skin signaled the breaking point, and before I could second-guess my actions, my body moved on its own.
Launching off the ground, I drove my boot into the wicket, sending the breakfast tray soaring.
Metal clattered to the stone floor, its contents scattering like debris from an explosion. Oatmeal splattered across Shayde’s lap, acting as glue for the cheese cubes and buttered toast that now clung to him like an abstract art piece.
My lips twitched in satisfaction at the sight. It was chaos personified, a masterpiece of petty vengeance.
While the Mean Fallon on my left shoulder reveled in the mess, I realized the Nice Fallon on my right had intervened, steering my water element to shift the trajectory of the tea. Instead of scalding Shayde, the steaming liquid splashed harmlessly on the floor beside him.
Shayde flicked oatmeal from his fingers, his face a picture of simmering irritation as he examined the carnage I’d created.
Mean Fallon couldn’t resist. “Bet you wish you could use your element against me, huh? Oh, that’s right. You can’t.” I poked out my lower lip in mock sympathy, letting the words drip with smug satisfaction.
The tungsten choker snug around his neck glinted in the dim light, a constant reminder of his powerlessness. The Hollow’s soldiers had fastened it as soon as I brought him in, stripping him of any ability to wield his element.
“Fuck you,” he growled, voice low and dangerous.
Feigning deep thought, I tapped a finger against my chin and offered a sweet, venom-laced reply.
“No thanks. But since you’ve proved you can actually fucking speak, you can start by answering my questions.
” I leaned against the bars of his cell, my voice sharp enough to cut through the stale air.
“Who else were you working with? What is Tyria’s next move? ”
Silence.
My jaw clenched. “Answer me!” The steel toe of my boot connected with the bars, sending a sharp metallic clang echoing through the corridor.
Shayde barely flinched, his gaze steady and unyielding. “I want to speak with Scar,” he said—calm, but laced with defiance.
My grip on the bars tightened until my knuckles blanched. I closed my eyes and dragged in a deep, deliberate breath, trying to cage the inferno clawing at my insides. Accepting yet another defeat, I stormed out of the dungeons.