Page 9

I especially hate the color navy. I would be happy to live my entire life without seeing it again. The guards who hurt me wore sharp navy uniforms, until they lost their clothes, of course. Sometimes my step-sister would come visit me, her skirts swishing across the dirty floor. Bathed in the shade of blue that I loathe, Cinder would smile brightly at me.

“You’re not screaming loud enough, Drizella. How am I supposed to have mind blowing orgasms without your screams to get me there?”Cinder would ask. She disgusts me. I knew she was vile, but the atrocities she continues to level on my body are awful.

Flicking my long skirt into place, I count my blessings.

I’mout of the castle.

I’m under a beautiful blue sky.

I could be traveling in the trunk.

Maybe I needto work on that.

“Silla,” Lana croons, placing her hand on my arm. Swallowing hard, I can taste the sharp, sour flavor of bile. I couldn’t eat breakfast this morning, because Cinder cleared the room to eat Lana’s pussy on the table. I wasn’t allowed to leave, as my step-sister gets off on having an audience. The stories I could tell you would be enough to turn your stomach. It definitely turned me off of my meal.

Cinder has never let me forget her generosity when she pulled me from the dungeon four months ago. She also enjoys oversharing, knowing no one will say a word. For example, my step-sister likes to enhance the pain of others, and would pipe in the sounds of my torture to the five most important people in the world to me.

They heard every scream, whimper, and fear. I’m ashamed that I couldn’t hide my pain, instead making theirs so much worse.

“Yes, Lana,” I respond softly. My voice used to be smooth, light, and beautiful. The constant screaming damaged my vocal chords, which means that it’s now lower, raspy and almost sultry. It feels so incredibly odd not to be who and what I once was.

I’m a fucking mess of emotions right now.

“Remember your mission,” Lana reminds me, her hand massaging my knee through my dress. She’s always been very handsy whenever Cinder isn’t around. It’s gross, and reminds me that I have no autonomy over my body.

The word “no” only seems to spur her on, so I simply nod instead.

“Are we almost there?” I ask even as I nod, curling my toes hard together, reveling in the pain. I kicked my heels off when we got into the car for the six hour drive north to the reform camp.

These shoes pinch, but Cinder insisted. There are few people who even wear them, because they are my step-sister’s signature. She loves to be able to be heard from a long distance, as it makes everyone scurry away. The Queen of Forbach rules with fear and terror within the castle, and there’s a river of blood to prove it.

The moment I kicked off my shoes early on in our journey, Lana’s eyes moved to my feet. I immediately hid them under my skirts, because it makes my skin crawl. The small, black-haired beauty has a thing for feet, and while I’m not one to kink shame, I hate her so much. She makes me have to constantly overthink my actions, worried they’ll set her off. Or worse, turn her on.

I’ve been primped, shaved, manicured, and molded into what Cinder wants me to be: an extension to the queen. She has a question, a demand, a proposal for me to make to the Warden, the twins, Isaac, and Sidney, but only one answer will ever be correct. “Yes, Your Majesty. How may I serve you?”

Gods, how will I survive this?

“Yes, we’ll be there in the next few minutes. You know Cinder is counting on you, Drizella. Don’t fuck this up, or it could very well mean all of their heads. The Underground will not be quiet, and there’s danger afoot,” she hisses. I am well versed by now on all of those dangers.

For the last four months, Cinder has sent in spies to infiltrate the ranks of the Underground. All of them have been dropped at the front gates tied up and shamed for their actions. They leave the spies alive, knowing that my sister will execute them with grand fanfare for her own amusement.

How the rest of the kingdom has no idea any of this is happening is beyond me. Someone wants the crowns to topple from the heads of the Queen and King of Forbach. Cinder swears she doesn’t have enemies, but that’s only because of her method to kill them before they become an issue.

She brought me Zachary Dion’s head on a pike while I was in the dungeon. My banged up, tired body was hanging from the chains on the wall, and I remember how all I wanted was to die that night. Cinder came in with a smile, chortling about how Zachary let Lana and her into the reform camp. I didn’t really know how many days had passed since my step-sister decided to slip into the reform camp like a thief in the night. Time runs differently when every breath hurts, and there’s no light underground. I only know it was night, because Cinder told me.

It turns out that Zachary wasn’t a criminal at all, just a spy for the Queen within the reform camp. He’s always been a staunch supporter of hers, and his little sister is actually her maid.

Kailee is one of Cinder and Lana’s fuck toys, but Zachary never knew this. I can’t imagine how that conversation would have gone. Cinder killed him because people who snitch will more than likely turn on you as well.

It seems like solid logic. Zachary was a fucking rat.

The pain as my toes cramp violently makes me wince. I would much rather ground myself now, than suffer a panic attack in the small space of this car. Lana loves to see blood in the water, and refuses to back down. I’ve learned not to let her smell my fear.

“Alright, Drizella, here we are,” Lana murmurs as the car comes to a stop. My gaze rises to the familiar steel door, and I force myself to fill my lungs. I just need to make myself put one foot in front of the other.

Wiggling my toes, I force them to relax. Shoving my feet back into the shoes, I nod at Lana.

“Off I go then,” I tell her, waiting for the driver to open the back door for me.