Page 115 of The Forgotten

Chapter

Five

RÓISIN

I’m curledup sleeping when I feel the uncomfortable feeling of heat. It’s not happening inside of me, though, which is why I’m confused. My heat went on for two days and then I was put back into my cage hungry, groggy, and dripping cum from my holes by a guard. I’m naked and the manor is usually very cold, so I don’t understand what’s happening.

Huffing out a sound of annoyance, I force my eyes to open. Except, I can’t because my eyelashes are glued to my cheeks from the last time that Deacon came on my face. It was right before my heat ended, cutting my strings like a marionette. Lifting my hands, I pry apart the dry release so I can open my eyes.

I am somehow unsurprised that I’m in this predicament. Cathal left me bleeding after my seventeenth birthday, and refused to allow me out to shower for three days, breaking his own rule. It’s like he wanted me to remember and wallow in the awful scents and feeling of cum inside of me.

He is in charge of everything that happens here. Breathing deeply, I smell the scent of fire. While I’m relieved to have my sense of smell again, I look around in a panic as I see that the open ballroom is on fire. Alphas are drunk still as they flail around yelling, and the whores that were spending time with them are groggily waking up to see the hell that I am.

I have so many questions running through my mind, but I push it all away to slam my hands on the door of my cage. It’s hard to remember how to speak after so long, so instead I scream. I’ve never attempted to leave before, knowing I’d never get very far. Curtains are falling from where they’re hung to cover the walls, not windows, because this room doesn’t have any of those.

Everything is set to create a facade, including the chandelier that falls from the ceiling on top of several people who are trying to race toward the doors. The glass manages to explode so far that it reaches me, and I turn my face quickly to evade some of it. Unfortunately, I can feel some of the shattered pieces on my thighs and arms.

Gasping to continue to breathe through my air starved state, I begin to see that through the smoke, the doors are shut on all sides. Cathal must have planned this, as I don’t see him anywhere. I suppose he’ll be pissed when he pulls my body from the melted cage.

For some reason, that thought enrages me, and I manage to twist until I can place my hands on the floor on either side of my body and kick out at the door. Suddenly, I want to live, to run away, to escape from this life.

Or die trying. My parents would be so fucking disappointed in how much of a coward I’ve been during the last two years. Maybe it’s because Cathal isn’t leering over me, threatening me, that I finally have the strength to fight.

I feel absolutely filthy, full of fluids that are sliding out of my body still, but I can’t stop myself long enough from thinking about it. The cage door isn’t exactly sturdy, simply an archetype to force me to stay still and small. It’s done a damn good job too.

Until now.

The door is bending outward, and I scoot closer to continue to kick at it with my bare feet. It hurts to do, and I hiss as a broken part slides into my foot. I don’t care if I never dance again…if it means I get to be free.

Screaming out a sob as the room continues to burn and the smoke rises, I kick once more, and the door flies open. Feeling light headed, I crawl out, ignoring the shattered glass on the ground. There’s no way to avoid it, as it’s everywhere.

Standing, I try to figure out what to do next. The doors are locked, everyone is banging on them or is currently on fire. It’s horrific, yet I feel numb as I watch a bunch of strangers who insisted that I get fucked through my heat while they watched.

May they all burn.

Turning around, I see what appears to be a vent across the room. Wondering if I can crawl through it, I cover my mouth with my hand as I begin to move quickly in that direction. Screaming doesn’t deter me until I hear something that reminds me of heavy wings flapping.

A steel rod hits me on the head, throwing me to the ground, and then I begin to feel heat crawling up my body. Panic makes me turn and pull myself from the burning heavy curtain. It’s hot, but I can’t register the pain yet as I pull myself away. The bed is still in the middle of the room and one of the only things not burning.

Despite how much I know it’s covered in gross sweat, slick, and cum, I pull myself up to roll myself around on the blankets, effectively putting out the fire. I refuse to look at my leg, grabbing a throw blanket that's the least covered in fluids towrap around my body. Getting up, I limp to the vent, dropping to my knees to painstakingly unscrew the four screws holding the panel to the vent. Throwing it to the side, I sway from where I’m kneeling.

Keep moving or you’re dead.I can hear bodies dropping from smoke inhalation, and know I need to leave. My vision is spotty as it is. I also can’t keep from coughing.

Pushing my body through the vent, I’m happy to find that it goes straight through. Unfortunately, the screws on the other side panel aren’t going to magically unscrew themselves. I don’t want to get caught, but burning up may be a worse option.

“Dad, did you leave her in the ballroom?” Deacon asks calmly. “If she’s nowhere else in the manor, then she’s inside.”

“No…I couldn’t have,” Cathal whispers. “I can’t open the door now, Deacon. Fuck, I told the guards to remove her. I swear I did.”

They’re right beside where the vent is, and I refuse to so much as breathe, though the fire behind me is raging. If I don’t get the fuck out of here soon, I’ll end up a dead omega anyway.

Cathal, go away.

I’m hoping that Deacon will help me if his father isn’t around. Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll survive it if he betrays me again. I’ve seen moments of rebellion, please let that spark fan like the fire roaring behind me.

Reaching through the vent, I tug on Deacon’s pant leg, taking a chance. He twitches slightly before placing his body in front of the vent to completely hide me.

“Ask your guards,” Deacon suggests. “They’re the only ones who will know.”