I wince from the sharp pain between my eyes and the cold water beating on my face, my breath hitching at the sudden sensation.
I bolt up, wiping my face frantically. “What the hell?” I sputter.
My head feels like it’s been beaten by a sledgehammer. I must have cried myself drunk after the party last night and had the weirdest dream.
“Diana,” my voice cracks. “What the fuck?” I blink rapidly, but everything around me is too sharp. The stone walls, the uneven cracks. I instinctively push up my glasses. Wait. They’re still on my face, and yet…nothing is distorted at the edges like it should be. The blur, the magnification, the shift between shadows and light.
I shake my head, dismissing the weird feeling. I’m still dreaming. That must be it. Because the alternative? Impossible.
I wipe my face and try to focus as my surroundings start to materialize. This is not my dorm room. Dark, jagged rock walls stretch around me, slick with moisture. The air is thick, stale, and reeking of damp earth, decay, and something sour like sweat and urine.
“It’s alright,” a man’s voice says calmly.
That’s not Diana’s voice.
I look over and find a very thin man. His skin is filthy, and the dirty rag for a shirt looks like a sack from a potato bag hanging off his skinny frame. He’s bone thin, with long shoulder-length hair in tangled, greasy ropes. I can’t tell if it’s dirty or gray because he is caked in filth, his face hidden behind a long, scraggly beard. His eyes are dark and hollow.
“It’s about time,” he says in a weathered voice.
“Where am I?” My voice wobbles, raw with panic.
This is a prison.
“Nithya.” A beat of silence. “In the castle’s dungeon.”
I scoff, but it comes out weak. “A dungeon? Nithya.” My throat is so dry it scratches my throat. “You’re serious?”
He doesn’t smile. Instead, he lifts a gnarly hand and points behind me. “The black metal bars say otherwise.”
I turn, and my stomach plummets. Thick black bars cage us inside a cell, less than an inch apart to keep someone from squeezing through. Beyond them, a long corridor stretches into darkness, the flickering orange glow of torches casting eerie shadows against the damp
walls.I clench my fists and feel something heavy encasing my wrists. Iron shackles chain them together, keeping me from pulling them further apart.
I take a deep breath and look up, grimacing from the thick air. The stone walls near the window, with more black bars, are thick with moss. The walls surrounding them are engraved with claw marks. My attention catches on the clumps of straw piled near the cell’s far corner.
The old man’s voice cuts through the silence. “In case the prisoners fuck.”
A wave of nausea slams into me.
“In case you were wondering what the straw is for. Entertainment for the guards.” His voice is empty. “It’s where prisoners fuck. Man, female, it doesn’t make a difference.”
My skin crawls. I need to get out of here.
Tears prick my eyes at what almost happened before I ended up here. How stupid I was to follow Eryndor or whatever the fuck his name is. Dream or not, he drugged me before he tried to rape me. It explains the loss of coordination and how my body reacted.
It was like he possessed some sort of magic and used it on me.
I can’t feel bad for what they did to Eryndor. I should be grateful to whoever it was that came and got me out, but when I look around, I’m suddenly not so sure I didn’t trade one monster for another.
There is only one way to find out. “How long have you been here?” Dread pools in my stomach, waiting for his answer. I’m exhausted. The side of my head is throbbing. I’m caked in dirt and ash, sitting on a filthy cold stone floor.
“Fifteen years.”
My stomach lurches. “Oh God.”
“Which God are you referring to?” The man’s lips twitch. “There are a few in Elarion.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
It’s pointless to tell this man where I’m from. What difference does it make? He just told me he’s been locked away in here for the last fifteen years. But he said, Elarion. The name rings a bell in my head, tolling the end of everything I know.
My aunt’s book!
I hug my arms around myself. “This can’t be real.”
“But it is.”
And I am so, so fucked.
“How did you get here?”
I hesitate. “I don’t know.”
“But you do know a Spellbinder lured you and drugged you with magic?”
My eyes dart to his. He watches me, sharp eyes glinting. “The guards were talking when they dragged you in. You don’t seem the type to fall for their tricks. What did he do?”
“He…sang.”
The moment I say it, revulsion clenches my gut. His voice. The melody. The way it made me feel like my body wasn’t my own.
“In Nithya, you’ll find all kinds of things because anything is possible.”
“What’s a Spellbinder?”
“Centaurs are Spellbinders.”
I blink. “A what?”
“Half human, half horse. Their magic is in their song. They have a way to lure anyone who doesn’t know their power. It is how they drug their prey. It puts the prey in a trance. The magic doesn’t just make you weak; it makes you crave them.”
I want to gag from the memory. His hands on my skin, his breath against my cheek. “You’re lucky someone killed him before he finished the ritual?”
My head lifts. “Ritual?”
His gaze darkens. “Spellbinders don’t just take.”
I hold my breath.
“They keep.”
Oh, fuck. I wasn’t going to make it out alive.
“How?”
“When they sing, they lure their prey. Humans especially. They violate them, and when they are done, they use them for bait to hunt.”
A sob racks my body. Tears run down my cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
Is he stupid?
I wipe my face. “I want to go home.”
“Where is that exactly?”
“Idaho.”
“Idaho,” he repeats, confused, like it’s on another planet.
“Yeah, like in the United States of America.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“Of course you haven’t. You’ve been locked away for the last fifteen years,” I point out. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Is there a way I can get out of here?”
He’s been here the last fifteen years. Maybe there is a way, but he’s too old and doesn’t have the strength.
“You mean, out of here?” he says, like I’ve lost my mind.
I nod. “Well, yeah. I mean, I haven’t done anything wrong. There’s no reason I should be in here.”
“The dark prince,” he says, shaking his head. “Once he puts you in here, there is no way you’re getting out. Unless he wants you out.”
There is no way that can be true. He can’t just lock people up after he saves them. I’ve done nothing wrong. Maybe the old man doesn’t remember things or…I’m delusional and he’s right. I’m stuck here.
“What are you in for?” The last thing I needed was to talk to a murderer.
“I killed Nithyans when they attacked my family in self-defense. At the time, I didn’t know Elariya was at war.”
“You were protecting them,” I argue, but it comes out more as a question.
“Yes. I’m originally from Elariya, and when we were attacked, I was captured and brought here.”
“Elariya is across the river,” I clarify, remembering what Eryndor told me.
“Yes. I hid in the woods, but they found me before I was able to cross the river to head north. Of course, the river was not the way it is now. It wasn’t cursed or the color of blood. It divides the two kingdoms, but they coexisted before the war. They were allied, ready to unite when the royal families married. But then, we were invaded by an outside force. We were invaded. It was carnage, and then, after it all happened, people naturally took sides. Everyone in Elariya conformed to the new king. Anything or anyone that wasn’t from Elariya was sent here. Others that were deemed traitors were banished, and Nithya became what is now called the Lost Kingdom. The dark prince was among the banished––”
I furrow my brow in confusion. “Who is this dark prince?”
His lips form into a frown. “You don’t know the history?”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t,” I admit truthfully.
“It’s a long story,” he says, taking a seat.
I place my hands on my temples as my pulse roars in my ears, my heart hammering like a caged animal. The Book of Legends. The map. Now more than ever, I wish I had read it.
Whatever this place is, it’s real. I didn’t hit my head, and this isn’t a dream.
I take shallow breaths as I sit in the opposite corner, trying to make sense of it all as my denial evaporates into smoke.
My aunt knew, but she didn’t tell me this could happen. The question is, why?
She didn’t want me to read the book. Even if I wanted to find answers, the mirror and the book are inaccessible.
If I can get out of here, how would I survive? Where would I go? How do I get back? The only way to get some answers is from the man crouched on the floor two feet away from me.
“I have time to––”
A loud clang rips through the corridor. The cell shudders under a heavy thud on the stone floor like a horse’s hooves.
Fear wraps around me, squeezing tight. I barely turn before a shadow looms through the metal doors, cast by the fire from the sconces.
I push my large glasses up my nose, trying to focus on the large shadow. It’s not a man. It’s the face of a bull, breathing heavily with flaming eyes and curved horns. Large muscles bulge underneath black fur and gold-plated armor.
He opens the small opening on the metal door with a key, sliding two trays with what looks like barf and a small glass of water. Then he tosses a rag with a snort. “For the lady,” he grumbles, its yellow teeth glinting heavily.
The feral smell makes me flinch. “He stinks,” I mutter when he walks away. Its thick hooved feet clop hard against the stone, the sound echoing down the narrow corridor in an ominous beat.
The old man chuckles, but it sounds deep for an older man. “They all do, but don’t let him hear you say that.”
“But he does.”
“Minotaurs are immune to their own smell. He must think the same about you.”
I snort. “I can’t argue being in here. Right now, he’s probably right, but not as bad as him.”
The old man slides the tray toward me, then grabs the rag. Upon close inspection, I notice it is a clean cloth with water.
“You’re alright. It’s better than the way I smell.” He holds up the cloth and pours a bit of water on it. “Allow me.”
He moves closer. “Wait,” I blurt. He pauses, raising his eyebrows. “What’s your name?”
“The name is Lox.”
“Lox,” I repeat. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lox. My name is Selene.”
“Selene,” he says like he’s testing it.
“Yes.”
“It’s a strong name. Your parents?”
“Dead,” I quip. “My family. They’re all dead.”
“I’m sorry,” he says genuinely. “Now, come.”
“What?” I ask, confused.
He points toward my head. “Your head. You have a small gash that needs to be cleaned.”
Oh...” I move to touch it, but he stops me by gripping the chains from the shackles on my wrist.
“Let me.” I raise my brows in surprise at his firm hold. “You’ll just make it worse. Don’t fret. This isn’t my first time. I served in the allegiance in Elariya some time ago. I know how to treat wounds.”
He releases his grip.
“Alright,” I say, not having much of a choice. It’s not like I can do it myself.
There’s no mirror.
Come to think of it, there isn’t a bathroom or a toilet. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Bathroom?” He asks, confused. “What’s a bathroom?”
He hasn’t seen a shower in a while. He probably forgot what one looked like.
“You know…the toilet.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Where do I relieve myself?”
“Ah…I see. Where you purge or a bathery. There’s a wooden bucket in the back corner.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re joking.”
But he isn’t. There is a wooden bucket big enough for you to sit on and relieve yourself, propped near the back wall and partially hidden by a stack of straw. I’m not going to ask what I wipe myself with. I’m afraid of what he’ll say.
I flinch from the cold sting when he dabs gently on my temple. It feels like raw skin.
He pauses with a worried expression, causing the wrinkles on his forehead to form bumpy waves. “Are you okay?”
“It stings,” I confess, trying to block out the pain.
“It looks like it hurts. It’s probably why you were unconscious when they brought you in.”
“Do you know why the dark prince locked me up?”
“It’s because you look human.”
“But Lox, I am human. And so are you.”
What is it about this place and humans? It’s like we’re the enemy or something.
“Are you?” he asks, as if I could be anything else.
“Can’t you see that I’m human? I should ask the same of you.”
“My reason for being in here is different. You look human. You…smell human, but that doesn’t mean you are.”
“How is that exactly?” I don’t want to point out that he smells like a filthy recluse.
“Magic. It isn’t the first time someone has used it to turn themselves human. But it doesn’t last. Maybe it’s why you were thrown in here.”
“I don’t know magic, Lox. Where I come from, magic doesn’t exist. Besides, I wouldn’t know where to begin. Like I said before, I’m from Idaho. I don’t know how I got here, but I assure you, I’m human.”
“They’ll find out soon enough.”
“How’s that?”
He finishes cleaning the cut and moves away. “Because it’s one of the few magic spells that doesn’t last. Once it wears off, you go back to your original form.”
Air shoots through my nose. “Well, get used to this form. I’m big in places many people don’t approve of, but I guarantee you I’m not changing into some creature.”
His attention rests on me, neutral and unwavering. “You don’t look big to me,” he finally says. “There are bigger things. Ugly things. If you can imagine it, it most likely exists.”
Pfft. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that there are dragons flying around.”
He gives me a slow smile, showing decaying teeth. “Who said they don’t?”
My eyes widen. “Wait, you mean there are dragons?”
“Yes, and you must respect them. They are the oldest living creatures in existence. Gods to this world.”
“Why do you call them gods?”
“We exist because they allow it.”
Great.
He must see the looks of uncertainty on my face because he asks, “Have you seen a dragon before?”
I shake my head rapidly because it’s the last thing I want to see. The first thing that pops into my mind when I think of a dragon is fire coming out of its mouth, burning everything in its path. Sharp teeth and talons. They belong in myths and legends.
“What do I do if I see one?”
He chuckles darkly, causing a shiver of fear to run down my spine. “Run.”
A metal door slamming open makes me flinch. Three huge beasts walk inside. One growls, with hands the size of medium-sized boulders.
The middle one, with a huge nose piercing, speaks first. Its voice is deep and resonant, like distant thunder. “It’s time.”
I glance at Lox. My pulse skyrockets.
He must see the panic in my eyes because he moves in front of me. “She’s not ready,”
I’m grateful for Lox trying to protect me even though we just met, but he’s no match for these large beasts.
A bubble of snot pours out of the middle one’s nose. “We are not here for her. We’re here for you.”
“What does he mean, Lox?”
Where are they taking him? I try not to panic, hoping that they’re here to release him. I don’t want to be left alone, but he deserves his freedom if what he said was true.
“Where are you taking him?” I demand, trying to keep my voice steady.
The one with the nose piercing pins me with his flaming eyes. “To die,” he says in a hard tone.
Panic seizes my lungs. “No, you can’t kill him.”
“It’s not a request,” he thunders.
I scramble to the corner when the other two move in and grip Lox by the arms, dragging him out of the cell.
“You can’t,” I yell.
I try to step in, but the one on the right looms over me, causing me to step back.
“Touch her and I’ll end you,” Lox snarls, followed by a hacking cough.
“Please,” I plead, tears running down my cheeks. “Don’t,” I cry out, not caring if my glasses are fogged up.
But it falls on deaf ears. They slide the metal gate shut just before I scramble to my feet despite the shackles when I reach it. One of them huffs, the stench of sweat and musk turning my stomach.
“Lox,” I call out between breaths as they drag him away. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, try not to die,” he croaks.
Looking around the cell, I try to make sense of it all. Why, after fifteen years of being held here, would they drag him to his death when I show up?
Hours after Lox was taken, the chill sets in. Grief grips me, taking me under like a current dragging me out to sea. My aunt’s death, Micah’s betrayal. He used to be the one to make me feel safe.
When the world was too blurry to navigate, he was there, laughing when I tripped over nothing. I’d thought that would never change. Now, my entire world has changed.
The wall gets colder on my back. The moisture seeps through my sweater.
My stomach growls. I’m so hungry it feels like I’m eating myself from the inside, but I refuse to eat whatever is on the tray. It’s some sort of bumpy brown soup.
I don’t know what time it is or how long I was unconscious. My lower back muscles ache from sitting on the hard stone floor for so long. Reaching for a small bundle of hay from the corner, I jump back in horror, hitting my back against the metal bars. A large rat runs along the wall, screeching until it disappears through a hole in the back corner, right before my glasses drop to the ground.
“Great,” I grumble, picking them up, glad they aren’t broken. “Just great.”
“Afraid of rats?” a low, deep, familiar voice says behind me, causing dread to snake down my spine.
I lift my head, trying to calm my pounding heart, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose. Everything sharpens, and for a second, I forget to breathe. My eyes lock onto a looming figure standing just beyond the bars. His armor, dark and battle-worn, bears the etching of a red dragon crest gleaming against his chest plate. Tattoos curl up his strong arms, inky lines twisting into symbols I don’t understand. His face is beautiful in a way that is merciless: high cheekbones, a sharp jaw, skin bronzed like sun-warmed sand. Black shoulder-length hair falls on one side, while the other is shaved and braided. His pale, piercing gray eyes hold mine—unreadable, like a storm brewing in shadow, threatening to swallow me whole.
He leans forward, smirking with a lethal invitation. “Are you going to answer, or keep staring?”
My hands clench at his indolent tone. I try to let the retort loose from the tip of my tongue, but I can’t. He’s the reason I’m here.
There is no question; he’s the dark prince. I remember his voice when he sliced off Eryndor’s head. The sheer magnetism and power radiating off him alone solidifies it.
I finally yank my gaze from his stare. “Who are you?”
I don’t want to admit I’m terrified of rats or show him how much he intimidates me.
“I think you know exactly who I am.”
“Why am I here?”
He hums, slow and lazy, like he’s enjoying this. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“I can’t answer because honestly, I don’t know. Trust me, I have no wish to stay.”
He chuckles, flashing me straight white teeth. Whoever created him wanted to torture the opposite sex. “You’re human.”
I roll my eyes dramatically. Here we go. “What is it with you people and humans?”
“They don’t belong here.”
“Then you obviously don’t own a mirror,” I shoot back.
“I’m the exception, and I’m not just any human.”
“How’s that?”
“I don’t answer to you,” he grits. “Now tell me, who sent you?”
My stomach dips in warning.
“Look, I appreciate you saving me back there from…the horseman. Spellbinder,” I rush out.
“I didn’t do it to save you. Anyone that crosses the river is as good as dead.”
Great.
“Now I ask you again.” His eyes go dark from gray to black. “Who sent you and why?”
He obviously has a hard time comprehending. “Let me the fuck out,” I seethe.
“There she is,” he says amusingly, pissing me the fuck off. “I was waiting for the fire you keep hidden inside to come out and play.”
His gaze slides down the length of me, scrutinizing, twisting his mouth in distaste when it reaches my glasses.
And I hate him for it. He’s lucky I’m behind these bars.
“Stop playing games with me and tell me the truth. Did he send you?”
Who is he talking about?
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Who’s he ?”
“There is only one place you could have come from,” he says like I’m stupid.
“Where is that exactly?”
“The only place since the war where humans come from is Elariya. So, I ask you again, did he send you here and why?”
“Again, who the hell are you talking about?” I snap.
He nods to one of the guards. The beast huffs and opens the gate.
When the dark prince walks inside, I rush back until I feel the hard wall on my back, unable to calm the terror inside.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a trembling voice as memories of what he did to Eryndor flash behind my eyes. “Please,” I plead, my voice laced with fear when his hands cage me in on both sides of my head against the wall. His hard chest inches from my face.
He looks down, making me feel like I’m falling into a dark hole. His eyes turn obsidian, the centers of his pupils flash like they hold a sinister power.
“I suggest the next words that come out of your mouth are true, or I swear, you will know what pain and suffering is before I end you.”
I blink back tears of frustration. I don’t doubt he’ll kill me. The look in his eyes tells me he’s seconds away from doing it.
His voice drops to a deadly whisper, “Did Therion send you here?”
My bottom lip trembles. “No, I’m just lost,” I whisper truthfully as a single tear slides down my cheek. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it. If you want to inflict pain so I suffer, then so be it, but I’m telling you the truth.” I lift my chin defiantly, the last fragment of hope I have left. “But when you do, make sure you look me in the eyes so you’ll always remember how much I hate you.”
He tilts his head, his lips a breath from mine. “With pleasure.” He pushes off the wall and walks out, barking orders. “Take her to the tower.”