Page 76 of Monsters Carve Thrones

Then nothing.

Everything spun. My vision blurred. I staggered, disoriented, trying to reach Laura–

She was already falling.

The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a woman stepping out of the second car.

Blonde. Expensive fur coat. Unbothered expression.

Waleria.

She looked down at me like I was a wounded animal. Then smiled. “Too fucking easy,” she whispered.

Darkness swallowed me.

Chapter 14

ADELA

It had been a week since Waylon started letting me out of the room more. He called it a reward–my “good behavior.” I called it what it was:strategic submission. I smiled when he expected it. I thanked him when he brought me food. I let him do unspeakable things and whispered how grateful I was into the sheets afterward. Every act was a razor in my throat, but I swallowed them with a sweet, broken-laced voice he adored.

Because I needed this.

I needed the freedom to move. To observe. To plan. The guards still watched me like a caged lioness who might bite their throats if they looked away too long. They weren’t wrong. I would. I would tear the flesh from their necks if I had even half a chance.

But today… I had more than half a chance.

Olesya came in late afternoon with clean towels and a tray of stale bread, grilled meat, and some unidentifiable stew. She didn’t meet my eyes, not with the guards flanking the hallway, but shediddrop a hand towel a little too dramatically. It fluttered to the floor near the dresser.

One of the guards stepped forward, reaching for it.

“Oops,” she murmured, eyes flicking to me so fast I almost missed it. “I am clumsy today.”

He sighed and crouched, scooping it up. His attention was elsewhere for just three seconds.

I moved fast.

My hand slid beneath the lip of the desk drawer, a drawer I’d clocked days ago, cracked and splintered in the back. I’d spotted something there, and today, it was still there.

A fountain pen.The nib was jagged and sharp, the body cracked but sturdy. Likely not the best for writing, but perfect for stabbing.

My fingers wrapped around it, and I slid it up the sleeve of my cardigan with a practiced motion. My heart pounded, but I kept my expression blank. I turned, picked up the glass of water, and sipped it slowly, even as adrenaline sang like fire in my blood.

Olesya finished tidying, thanked the guards sweetly, and left. But I definitely didn't miss the slight tug of a smile before she turned away.

And just like that, I had a weapon.

***

Later that night, when the estate went quiet and only the buzz of the hallway cameras kept me company, I dug my fingers under the mattress. I tucked the pen beneath it quietly, my heart pounding in my ears.

No one would find it.

I lay back on the bed, sweat clinging to my thin tank top, my ribs sharper than ever. My body ached constantly now, like my muscles were eating themselves. I could barely eat more than a few bites each day, considering it was just nasty meat in a sauce that made me gag. If I ever got out of here, I’d probably never be able to eat spaghetti again. Anything with noodles made me nauseous now.

I made sure to toss and turn just loud enough for the guards to hear. Some nights, I whimpered. Others, I woke screaming. But Ialwayssaid his name. “Rafe…” I moaned into the dark, curling inward as if from a nightmare. “Please... Rafe…”

If Waylon was watching, he’d see a woman unraveling. A prisoner caught in the throes of her own haunted past, whispering the name of a man who would never come.