Page 10 of Beg the Night (Mystics of Ashora #1)

TEN

athena

A fter the disturbing announcement from Director about attending a ball, the men killed time fighting each other.

Again.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever witnessed.” Margaret and I flinched in unison when Carter punched a man a couple of inches shorter than him directly in the nose.

Yep, I definitely heard a crunch.

This, naturally, resulted in a round of whoops from the men watching from the surrounding circle.

“I don’t know,” Margaret replied. “I once saw one of the guys strangle another over the last piece of bread after they forgot to feed us for a day. I mean, come on.” She sighed. “It was only one day. One day is for rookies.”

I gave her a sideways look, and in return, she arched a brow. Okay . She was definitely not joking about that last part.

“What’s the point of all this anyway?” I asked.

Carter walked over to us, shaking his hands out, chest puffed up, clearly satisfied with himself. “Entertainment, mostly.” Sweat dripped from his skin as he stopped a foot away. “But we like to stay in shape for when we finally get out of here.”

“That optimistic?” I smiled sideways. Carter was easily my least favorite mystic in this place, always walking around here with an arrogant stride and annoying smirk.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to learn some combat skills, sweetheart. Especially if you’re getting out of here after the ritual. You ever fought before?”

I shrugged. “Here and there.” No. Not at all. Not physically, at least.

“Great. Let’s see what you’ve got, then.”

“She is not going to fight you.” Margaret glowered up at him. “We all know you can’t behave yourself.”

Carter laughed, his eyes narrowed on me.

Shit. With a grimace, I stepped into the semicircle and pulled one arm over in front of me, stretching, then the other. This looks natural, right?

“Leon, get in there,” Carter ordered. “But go easy on her, all right?”

Leon smiled softly and stepped forward. He was lean and muscled and clearly strong, but he didn’t creep me out the way Carter did. I could take him if he went easy on me.

Before he could make his way into the circle, Sinner stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No.”

Leon froze. Everyone froze.

“You wanna fight?” Sinner let go of my would-be opponent and took his place in the circle a couple paces from me. “Let’s fight.”

My stomach sank. “You want me to fight you?” God, please say no.

He shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“Um.” I glanced at Margaret, silently trying to communicate to her that her brother had lost his mind.

She only stared back with wide, amused eyes.

No help. I made a mental note to yell at her later.

“Great. Okay.” I bounced on the balls of my feet. “Let’s fight, then.”

I swore as he took a step closer, the guys gathered around us took a step back. Yep. This was going to hurt.

He kept his arms relaxed at his sides as he moved in. It didn’t matter. He was a massive wall of destruction. Everything about him was a threat, a warning.

My pulse sped up instinctively, and I stumbled backward. Behind me, hands landed on my back and shoved me forward.

“Well?” Sinner taunted. Was he smiling? “You want to fight so badly, let’s see it.”

“Fine. If you insist.” I widened my stance and pulled my fists up to my face.

He didn’t lift his arms to defend himself or step back. He didn’t even act like he was concerned about me hitting him.

Rude.

Ignoring all the eyes trained on me, I rushed forward, aiming a fist at Sinner’s face.

He stepped to one side, dodging me easily. But my momentum slung me forward, making me stagger.

And the guys around us actually laughed.

“Not bad,” he teased. “You were saying you’re a fighter?”

“I did not say that, I said I’ve fought here and there .”

Yeah, he was definitely smiling. “Well, try again.”

So I did. And the room erupted in laughter again. I ignored the taunts, swinging at Sinner again and again.

He dodged each of my attacks—if they could be called attacks—without even trying. He let me go on for a few minutes before he ended my suffering.

As I tried to land another blow, he caught my wrist and pulled, spinning me around until he had my back pressed against his chest. He wrapped his massive arms around my torso and pinned me there.

I fought against him, but he only tightened his hold, making my struggle even more futile.

His heart pounded against my back, the heat of his body engulfing me, and his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “You let any of these other guys touch you, and you’re dead. Don’t let me see you in this fight circle again.”

With that, he shoved me lightly toward Margaret, who was watching me with the most amused smirk on her face.

My face was hot with embarrassment and confusion and maybe a little lust, but with any luck, the guys would think it had to do with my horrible athletic abilities.

This place was getting weirder every damn day.

“Athena, wow! You really are a great fighter. You showed him. Totally badass.” Margaret could hardly contain her laughter.

I punched her lightly in the arm as I passed her. “Your brother is seriously demented. I hope it doesn’t run in the family.”

We spent the rest of the day ignoring the fights and pretending like we weren’t killing time until the strange event took place tonight. Every time I thought about the ball, my stomach dropped. Something wasn’t right, but I wasn’t exactly in any position to fight back.

So the two of us laughed and we told stories and we pretended we weren’t in a terrible, dark dungeon as the hours dwindled by.

But reality came around soon enough, and all the shit that was dragged along with it.

I had never worn a dress like this before.

My dress and Margaret’s were similar in style. They were both made of a thin, silk material that hugged our curves and fell to the floor. I’d be lucky if I made it through the night without tripping over the hem. The slit that came to just above my knee helped make walking easier, at least.

The straps were thin and wrapped around my upper arms. The fabric of my gown was a shimmering blue, reminding me of the blue veins beneath my skin. But Margaret’s was a beautiful pale pink.

I smiled as I looked at her. She was gorgeous in a way that reflected her soul, that radiated in her deep blue eyes. She was a pure, good human.

Sinking my teeth into my lip, I turned away, busying myself with pulling the rest of my hair into a braid over my shoulder. A person like her shouldn’t spend her time with the likes of me. Even my simple presence in her life could be damaging. Especially if she knew the real me.

“What? What is it?” she asked, her tone uncertain. “Do I look that hideous?”

“No, no. It’s stunning.” I spun and forced a smile. “You are an absolute gem, Margaret.”

Cheeks going pink, she shook her head as if she didn’t believe me. If I had a heart, it would’ve broken right then. Because it was always the purest souls that could not see the beauty they harnessed just by existing.

“You’re not half bad yourself,” she replied. “I can hardly believe you’re the same girl who refused to shower! Twice!”

With a roll of my eyes, I tied off the end of my braid, then turned and followed Margaret out of the bathroom.

The men had already been taken out of the dungeon, all of them dressed like Director’s little playthings.

As we stood in the empty room, dread coiled in my stomach. There was no way Director would pull all of her mystics from the dungeons and expect the night to go peacefully.

I didn’t have the first clue what powers these men possessed, but I was smart enough to know there was a reason we were hidden underground, enclosed in an inescapable cage.

Letting monsters out of their cages was never a good idea. Even if they were dressed up and told to play nice.

I had only been in hell for a handful of days, and I was ready to climb the walls. The rest of the population had been here much longer. Surely, they had to be itching to break free.

“All right, let’s get this over with,” I said, more to myself than to Margaret. Let’s somehow manage to survive the night, even though every single bone in my body told me death was very close.

As we approached the group of guards waiting for us by the door, Margaret buzzed with an alarming level of excitement. I couldn’t really blame her, I guessed. If I had been down here for months like her, I might have been excited, too.

I’d never been to a ball or anything like it. I’d never even worn a dress like this. I never had any reason to. Until the day I was brought here, my life had been quiet and simple. We’d spent most of our time taking care of the land, feeding the animals, and cooking. I couldn’t begin to fathom living in a world where people dressed up like this to—to what? Mingle? Pretend to like one another?

Sounded absolutely terrible.

“Get moving, ladies.” The guard who hurried us along sounded equally as robotic as he looked. As robotic as they all looked, dressed head to toe in black tactical gear. “You’re expected at the ball in five minutes.”

With a huff, I followed their lead, my arm linked with Margaret’s. As we traversed the tunnels and hallways that led above ground, I did my best to remember every twist and turn. Though I quickly discovered the guards were purposely backtracking, walking us in circles, doing their best to confuse us. On top of that, I was half certain my brain had shrunk while I’d been rotting away in the damn dungeon.

“What’s this ball for, anyway?” I asked.

For a long moment, not one of the five guards responded. I was ready to accept that I wouldn’t get an answer when one finally spoke up. “Think of it as a celebration for the mystics.”

Real freaking rich. “And why would the gifted be celebrated? All we’ve—they’ve—done is sit in the damn dungeon for months.”

Without looking at us, the guard scoffed. “You know nothing of what’s happening in the world, mystic. But you’re about to learn.”

When we approached the stairs that led above ground, my heart nearly stopped. The scent of the outside air ignited my senses like a distant memory. It tasted like freedom. Like hope.

“Do you smell that?” Margaret asked, sniffing the air. “It smells like…like…”

“Like fresh air.”

Her face lit up, eyes sparkling as she looked up to where the leading guard pushed the door open. “Let’s go.”

She scurried up the steps first, and when she hit the top, laughter bubbled out of her. When I stepped onto the dirt beside her, I found myself choking down my own excitement.

We were outside.

Outside.

“Don’t even think about trying to escape,” one of the guards barked as the five of them surrounded us. “Director isn’t stupid. She’s taken precautions to ensure the mystics don’t try anything.”

Curiosity piqued, I scanned our surroundings, noting the dense trees and the dark sky above. “What type of precautions?”

“The type you don’t want to have to discover.”

Vague. Cryptic. If I had power, I would blast this whole place to the ground, being sure to take everyone with it. Aside from Margaret, of course.

The music caught my attention first. It flowed through the thick forest, ricocheting off the trees and vibrating through the crisp leaves. The tune was surprisingly uplifting.

And as we were led through the dense foliage to a white tent in a clearing, my stomach nearly dropped. All around, twinkling lights had been strung through branches and crisscrossed above to look like stars.

This was a real ball. A real party. With people wearing formal suits and gowns, not military uniforms. They were eating and drinking and chatting as if life was completely normal. Surrounding the white tent, of course, was a perimeter of armed guards. Surely, they’d recruited mystics to work with them. Otherwise, they would be no match for the gifted that had gathered here.

Margaret waved at a group of men from the dungeon and went as far as to try to tug me in the direction of the dance floor, where a few women were dancing and laughing.

“You go,” I insisted. “I’ll be over there getting a drink.”

“Oh, come on!” she argued, still clutching my elbow. “Give yourself permission to have a little fun. You might not get another chance.”

“Same goes for you. Don’t let me stop you from letting loose.” I shooed her off. “Go!”

With a roll of her eyes, she backed away, but there was no fighting the smile that overtook her as she turned. She weaved her way through the bustling crowd, dragging a helpless man— one of the quieter mystics from the dungeon—with her as she spun to flow with the rest of the dancers.

I lingered toward the edge of the party, trying my best to identify the mystics and the…well, whoever had shown up. Regardless of their magical status, I couldn’t trust any of them. They were all here for her, for Director. Any of these people could be soldiers, the force that killed on her behalf. There was no way to tell whether they’d only just washed the blood from their hands before donning the elaborate garb and showing up here to indulge.

Sickening.

To my right, I found a quiet spot where only a few guards lingered, not paying much attention to the party. I took a few steps in that direction and crossed my arms over my chest, doing my best to look somewhat normal.

“You’re scowling.” Leon approached, holding two glasses of sparkling wine.

I accepted the flute he held out like a peace offering, but rolled my eyes to fortify my stance on the matter. “This is just my face.”

He shoved his free hand into the pocket of his trousers as we watched the crowd. Regardless of what he had to say, I was ready to argue. In a mood like this, it was my default setting. But he just…stood there. Silent. Watching.

I’d allowed my muscles to relax a fraction and had taken a few sips of the wine when he finally spoke.

“They’re all acting like we actually have something to celebrate here.” He huffed. “They’re also very aware of the conditions we’re being kept in, but nobody seems to give a shit about any of it.”

Anger flared to life in my chest once more. “Why would they care? They claim to be winning the war. According to them, they’re doing the right thing. Their absurd mystic matchmaking plan seems to be working just fine.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you? They’ll say anything to keep the mystics fighting. They’ll even make up this story about how we actually stand a chance.”

He made eye contact with me, but his attention was caught by something over my shoulder. Instantly, his expression fell, his eyes shifting quickly from flirtatious to stone cold. Then, without so much as a goodbye, he turned and left, bumping shoulders with another man as he scurried back into the crowd.

What the hell?

I felt him first. A cold, solid presence behind me, making my heart beat faster, as if telling me to be alert, then lighting up the rest of my senses. The hair on my arms stood, and my stomach flipped over itself.

Sinner.

“What did I tell you about talking to other men?”

I stiffened. “And what did I tell you about giving a shit?”

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning to look at him. I kept my gaze straight ahead and gulped the rest of my drink.

He stepped up beside me, his shoulder brushing mine as he settled much too close. In heels, I was still a head shorter than he was. It was hard to scowl at him when I had to look up to see his face.

“Shouldn’t you be out there celebrating with the rest of the mystics?”

In my periphery, he shoved both hands into his pants pockets. He wore a black suit, similar to the rest of the men, though if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn it was tailored to his exact measurements. It fit his lean body perfectly, drawing my eyes to his large biceps and toned chest before?—

Shit. I was staring.

“And leave you here sulking by yourself, pretending you’re not actually one of us?”

A spark of annoyance ignited and burned hot. “I don’t have to pretend.”

“Bullshit.” He angled in until his lips were at my ear. “I see through your facade, New Girl. I know you’re hiding something. Whatever gift you have will come out soon enough.” He lingered there for a moment, sending chills down my arms, before straightening and returning his focus to the crowd. “This game you’re playing is growing old.”

“And what game is that?” I finally turned to face him head-on. “Exactly what would be the purpose of hiding a power? You better believe that if I had power, I’d be using it to get out of here, unlike the rest of you.”

Jaw clenched, he gritted his teeth. “If it were that easy, don’t you think we would have done it by now?”

“Unless you’re not as powerful as Director thinks you are. Which would make plenty of sense, actually.”

His low laugh floated on the air around us, low enough that it felt more like a vibration than an emotion coming from Sinner. A single dark shadow spun out of his chest and twirled up the side of my neck.

I sucked in a breath as the darkness grazed my skin, sending chills down my entire body.

He smirked at my reaction but said nothing as the shadow twisted around a loose strand of my hair and tugged lightly.

The space around us disappeared. For a second—for a long, torturous second—it was just the two of us and Sinner’s shadow. His dark eyes lured me in, trapping me within their depths.

And when he lowered his focus to my lips?—

“Am I interrupting something?”

At the sound of Director’s voice, I yanked away from Sinner and spun, expecting to be punished for his minuscule show of power.

Instead, all the air was knocked from my lungs.

Because standing next to Director was a tall woman in a pristine ball gown. She had long black hair and a familiar tight smile on her face.

If I had the capacity to breathe, I’m pretty sure I would have screamed. Instead, I wobbled, but before I could fall, Sinner clutched my arm roughly and steadied me.

“Hello, sister.”