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Demons no longer rest in the bedlam of sleep. I hear their monstrous steps lingering in the deep.

The guard’s quarters were located in the lowest level of Braderhelm. The black granite walls and lit torches offered no warmth, forcing shivers down her spine.

Khalani rolled the cart of books along the dark hallway. Her sweaty palms clutched the metal handle with a death grip. The eerie quiet, disrupted by the screeching of wheels against the stone floor, made her shallow breaths pump faster.

She was brutally aware of the imminent danger. The hairs on her arms bristled, and her eyes anxiously slid to every corner, crevice, and steel door she passed.

A distant scream echoed down the hall from one of the enclosed rooms. Her eyes widened as she whipped her head around. No prisoner stood visible, but the grating bellow sliced the murky air like a deadly hymn. Blood drained from her face and goosebumps chilled her entire body. The screams ground to a sudden halt, and the only sound left was her frantic heartbeat in the still air .

She needed to leave this place. Now .

She wasted no time depositing the books at the base of every door. There were no bars or cells. It appeared that each guard had an actual bedroom. But she wasn’t about to knock and ask for a grand tour. Adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream so rapidly that pain no longer registered in her hands as her body moved at record speed.

Each door had an engraved number, and she quickly scribbled the room numbers on the paper Winnie provided. As Khalani bent over in front of one of the steel doors, it suddenly swung open.

Black boots entered her vision.

Her muscles froze, eyes slowly lifting over a wide chest in a black vest, past broad shoulders, to a face that peered down on her with a sinister grin. The man’s bald head was so shiny that the skin looked waxed. The eerie expression in his gaze made her heart sputter to a halt.

“Are you here to help me, prisoner?” The guard’s grin deepened as his cold blue eyes perused her hunched-over frame.

Khalani swiftly stood ramrod straight, icy fear coating her skin. She held out the book, her hands visibly trembling. “Your yearly review of the Apollo Ordinance, sir.” She tilted her head forward, using her hair to partially obscure her face.

The guard stepped closer, his cold-blooded energy prickling at her senses. Khalani subtly shifted back, ready to bolt. He smirked at her movement and advanced further. His piercing stare offered no kindness or disregard, but something far worse—a cruel interest.

“Prisoners shouldn’t be wandering these halls alone.”

She bit the inside of her lip and tried to remain calm, but her heart pounded against the confines of her chest. “I was instructed to deliver the Ordinances to each room.”

He leaned against the wall and shook his head. “Well, you seem to be moving rather slowly. That will require some punishment. Luckily for you, I’m in a forgiving mood. Come in here, and you can help me forget this happened.”

Shallow breaths pumped out of her chest. Winnie’s words rang in her ear like an alarm bell.

“I’m sorry. I must leave to finish my work.” She swallowed tightly as the words came out in a quick breath. She turned, but her shoulder was quickly captured in a vice-like grasp.

The guard squeezed harder, making her face squint and eyes water. His grip was so impenetrable that his fingertips would soon imprint on her bones. Khalani held her breath, and every single muscle in her body became rigid as a flood of terror shrouded her veins.

“Please, let me go,” she pleaded.

The guard ignored her begging, pulling out a silver switchblade with his other hand. Her green eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He casually rubbed the blade along her forearm, and she tried to pull back, but as soon as she moved, he pushed the knife into her skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Her adrenaline went into overdrive as red liquid pooled across her arm.

He was going to kill her. She was going to be murdered in that decrepit dungeon.

She frantically glanced around for help. No one else stood in the hallway. She was alone. What would happen if she were to scream? Would anyone come to her aid? But she already knew the answer to those desperate thoughts.

In Braderhelm, rape might be standard practice.

Despite her best efforts, the guard pulled her closer and slid his other hand around her neck, the blade kissing her skin as she gulped. Khalani flinched at his touch and tried to turn away, but he squeezed her chin harshly and forced her gaze back to him.

“You don’t look too bad. Must be new here. If you don’t give me any trouble, I won’t be too rough with you. Promise,” he whispered the last part in her ear.

Heavy pressure constricted the air around her. She couldn’t breathe. Her muscles were paralyzed as the guard forced her closer. She wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving?

The wet slime of his tongue darted along her earlobe. She closed her eyes, nails scraping against her palms, as her mind began to shut down. His heavy breath slid across her neck, and the hard bulge in his pants pressed against her stomach.

“Get down on your knees and take it,” he commanded.

Khalani’s eyes flashed open. Without thinking, she leaned into his weight and forcefully shoved her knee between his legs. The guard let out a heavy groan and released her arm. His back bowed, and he clasped his stomach.

“You little bitch,” he swore, still bent over.

Khalani didn’t waste any time escaping. She left the cart and sprinted full speed up the stairs. Her legs pumped faster and faster, like a ferocious fire raged behind her.

Every prisoner was still finishing their afternoon shift, so no one saw her running for her life. She didn’t stop running until she got to her cell block. She put her hands on her knees and coughed in exhaustion as sweat ran over her entire body.

She rubbed her hands over her hair, realizing her limbs were shaking. Her eyes slid down both sides of the hall, frantically looking for signs of the guard, but he was nowhere to be found.

Her heart refused to slow its vicious pace. As the entire predicament replayed in her mind, Khalani finally realized the severity of her actions.

“What did I do? What did I do?” she asked herself.

She just assaulted a guard.

Khalani buried her face in her hands and sank back against the wall. Her mind conjured unthinkable scenarios. Suffering she’d no doubt face from her actions. It did not matter that he assaulted her first. She was a lowly prisoner. The guards could inflict any punishment desired without consequence.

She was already dead.

The bell—signaling the end of the afternoon shift—rang, startling Khalani. She held a hand to her heart and tried to focus on inhaling but struggled to catch a single breath. She was having a panic attack .

The blood still streaming from her arm caught her eye, momentarily distracting her. She gently wiped the blood on her uniform, and a sizable cut revealed itself in a cruel line down her forearm. How many markings would she receive in Braderhelm?

How long would she have to live?

One thing Khalani knew, she couldn’t hide outside her cell. She had no choice but to go to the pit and hoped that if the guard was there, the number of people around would deter him from killing her on the spot.

She rubbed her fingers together, eyes meticulously sliding to every space of open air in the caves as she walked to the pit. Her muscles were coiled tight like a wire, expecting the guard to emerge from the shadows at any moment and wrap his hands around her throat.

As she descended into the pit, the soft, distant echo of cheers emanated from the fighting ring. It all reverberated as a dull ringing in her ears.

Her vision was cloudy. The sound of prisoners talking jumbled into a tumultuous mixture of white noise. Thoughts collided within her brain at a thousand miles an hour. It was hard to concentrate. Think. Feel. Her panic manifested and grew to greater heights as she surveyed the pit.

Where was he?

“Khalani.”

Was he waiting to strike when she least expected it?

“Khalani.”

Would she meet her demise quickly, or would death come slowly and be filled with pain? If her death was guaranteed, maybe the only way she could gain control was by doing it herself…

“Khalani!”

She flinched as Serene’s voice finally filtered through her raging mind.

“What’s wrong?” Serene frowned. “Did you not hear me?”

“Sorry.” She rubbed a hand through her hair and tried to catch a shallow breath. “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

“What happened to your arm? ”

She quickly pulled her arm back, attempting to hide the ugly cut. She wasn’t prepared to talk about what happened. Khalani didn’t have any siblings growing up. Dealing with problems on her own was how she’d survived thus far. She didn’t know how to operate any other way.

“Happened on shift today.” She waved her hand dismissively.

Serene’s eyes narrowed. “That happened in the library? The wound looks fresh. Did a guard do that?”

Damnit. Serene noticed way too much. “It’s no big deal.” She glanced away dismissively, wanting to disappear once more. Forever invisible.

“Khalani,” Serene repeated in a soft voice.

She turned back and saw the worry plastered on her face. Khalani felt a strange presence in her chest, like a physical weight as real as food swallowed down her throat.

“I’m worried about you. I know you like your space, and we haven’t known each other long…but you can talk to me. You don’t have to go through everything alone,” Serene insisted.

She froze. No one had cared about her well-being or got close enough to worry, not since Douglas died. She drove people away because the pain of losing someone you loved was too agonizing to bear. Affection was akin to weakness.

“I’m sorry, Serene. But it’s better this way. People who get close to me, they always get hurt. That’s what I do. I hurt people. And this time…I’d rather it just be me.” Khalani shook her head, fighting back tears. It was all too much. She wanted to scream and never be heard again.

Serene stepped closer, and Khalani nearly shifted back at the warmth in her expression. “Cruel people don’t look back on the pain they inflict,” Serene insisted. “And that’s not you. I saw it in your eyes the first day you spoke of your family. We are more alike than you think, and if I didn’t have my brother…it would be worse than death. That’s why I’m here. I told you I would look out for you.

“ I know why you keep pulling away,” Serene emphasized. “I get it. But you don’t have to worry about us leaving you. We’re in here for life, too. Remember? Deep down, you know that being alone isn’t what you want. So, talk to me.”

Serene’s words impacted her like a chipped knife slicing her open, leaving her exposed. Khalani wanted to run, but another part, a stronger part, ached for someone to hug her and tell her that everything would be okay. Even if it was a lie.

She fidgeted, uncertainty clawing through, but Serene waited patiently for her to make up her mind.

“Are you sure you wanna hear this shit?” Khalani tentatively glanced up, her resistance faltering.

“Yeah. I do.” No hesitation. Her crystal blue eyes were filled with compassion, like Serene understood the trials and toles of loneliness.

Khalani fully let out a breath, like she was about to walk off the edge of a cliff. She wavered but decided to tell Serene everything that happened in the guard’s quarters. By the time she finished, Serene’s jaw hung open in shock and outrage.

“You should’ve killed that asshole when you had the chance.”

“Shh, keep your voice down.”

“Have you seen him in here at all?” Serene cast an incensed look around the room.

Khalani gave another slow perusal of the pit and slowly shook her head. “No. But he will find me. I can’t escape.”

Serene placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think this is a death sentence. He’s not your block guard, and I don’t think he would try anything out in the open, like in the pit. They’ve been cracking down on guards killing prisoners because there aren’t enough of us. We just need to make sure he doesn’t get you alone,” she stated.

“How?” The skepticism was evident in her tone.

“I’m sure if you tell Winifred what happened, she won’t make you go to the guard’s quarters again. In the meantime, you stick with us on the way to your assignments. Only the Captain has access to all the cells, and although Steele has a major boulder stuck up his ass, I don’t think he would allow a prisoner to be murdered on his block.”

Wonderful. Putting her life in Takeshi Steele’s hands. She was as good as dead .

The fear and paranoia were evident on her face, and Serene gave her a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll get through this. We all will.”

“Have you always been so positive?” Khalani asked.

“No. But why worry about something that hasn’t happened yet? That’s just putting yourself through it twice.”

Khalani didn’t know how to argue with that logic. She nodded, grateful for Serene talking her down. There was no smiling or hugging. Just an understanding that filtered through the space. An acceptance that whatever came their way, whether it be a short death or a long painful life, it wouldn’t have to be experienced alone.

That tiny, singular thought was enough to keep her body moving forward. Serene guided her toward the fighting pit, insisting it would be a good distraction.

And for once, she agreed.

More people than usual stood around the crater, gazing intently at the fight. Her eyes widened when she saw who was in the pit. They weren’t prisoners—they were two Braderhelm guards.

“They let guards fight each other?” Khalani asked Serene.

She didn’t recognize either guard, but they didn’t hold back as they rammed their fists into each other’s faces. The crowd cheered as the two men started wrestling, each trying to gain the upper hand. One was trying to go for an armbar while the other was trying to wrap his legs around the other guard’s neck.

“The guards can’t take all their aggression out on the prisoners. They still need some type of slave labor. This is a way to channel it,” Serene explained.

Blood sprayed as a fist connected with a nose, the crunch audible from where she stood. Prisoners cheered and hollered, their noises closing in around her as her vision shifted. Khalani imagined blood dripping from her body, her life ending in violence as a blade slashed her throat.

That was her fate if the guard found her. Would there even be a body left?

Her breaths came faster as the crowd pressed around her, clamoring for a closer look at the brutality .

Claustrophobia mixed with her fear—a deadly combination. Her palms were sweaty, and it felt like she was being touched all over, as if something was crawling beneath her skin. She realized she was having a panic attack again as bile crept up her throat.

She turned to Serene. “I’m feeling a little sick.”

“You want me to come with?”

“No, no.” Khalani waved her hand. “I’ll be fine. Just need a little air. I won’t leave the pit. Promise.”

Serene assessed her with a frown but eventually said, “Okay.”

Khalani didn’t waste another second and walked through the crowd, away from the fighting pit. Everyone’s attention was riveted toward the center.

“Pin him, Guard Walker!”

“Mason’s so weak. He wouldn’t last a second on the surface.”

The cacophony of voices surrounded her as she pushed through the prisoners. Khalani raced through an opening, and out of nowhere, a leg appeared in front of her. Before she could react, she tripped over it, catapulting to the ground. Pain ran up her arm as she landed on her elbow.

“Get used to staying on the ground,” Dana’s arrogant voice sounded above her.

Not again.

Khalani quickly stood up to face her opponent, ignoring the shooting pain as she put weight on her palm. Dana had her hands planted on her hips and wore an ugly smile.

“What’s your problem?” Khalani growled, ready to explode.

Dana scoffed. “ You are my problem. Do you think screwing the guards will grant you favor? It won’t.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Dana stepped forward, her mouth twisting cruelly. “I saw you trying to get friendly with Captain Steele in the pit your first day. You are sadly mistaken if you think he’ll help your situation by getting close to him.”

Friendly was not a term she would use to describe her interactions with the cold Captain. The thought of viewing a guard, especially Takeshi, in any positive way made her want to vomit.

“Then you must have watched him taser me. Getting close to Captain Steele is the last thing on my mind. I have no idea why you would like any guard, but there is zero competition from me. So, you can back off.” She lifted her hands, a last chance for reason and peace.

“Like him?” Dana gave an ugly sneer. “You’re even dumber than you look. You have no idea of the plotting and games that go on down here. Get in my way again, and I’ll kill you.”

Her blood boiled. There were only so many times that her life could be threatened in one day before she snapped.

“I’d tell you how I really feel about your so-called games, but I wasn’t born with enough middle fingers to express myself,” Khalani snarled, ending all pretense of civility.

Dana’s mouth opened, and she quickly snapped it shut. She leaned closer to Khalani as her eyes transformed into daggers. “I would sleep with two eyes open if I were you, 317.” Dana walked past her, bumping into her shoulder. Khalani’s eyes narrowed as Dana disappeared through the crowd.

The harder she tried to keep a low profile, the more enemies she made. Everything was going horribly wrong. She scrubbed a hand over her hair.

Space. Endless space. That was what she needed.

She moved away from the crowd, looking for an area where she could be momentarily alone. She wouldn’t leave the pit but needed to find temporary solace for her own sanity.

Khalani turned her head to ensure she could still see the prisoners surrounding the fighting pit. Alone, but not alone. It would have to be good enough for now.

Suddenly, Khalani bumped into a hard body as her head was turned. “Sorry,” she mumbled, twisting herself backward.

“Where do you think you’re headed?”

The familiar voice was so deep it had its own vibration. Khalani’s insides dropped. She lifted her eyes, and Takeshi Steele stood in her way. His thick arms were crossed over his chest like an impenetrable wall.

“I…um,” she hesitated. “I was just getting some fresh air.”

“Fresh air. Underground,” he repeated.

Her lips formed a grim line. “Yes. Can prisoners do that?”

“Prisoners must remain in the pit until break is over.” Takeshi’s chin raised in suspicion. “Venturing toward the exit is not following those orders. I’m sure you’ll find suitable entertainment at the fighting ring.” He nodded, motioning her to go back the way she came.

Everything about Takeshi angered her. His voice. His face. Even his freaking hair annoyed her. Interacting with him was its own form of torture.

“The fights made me sick. Am I allowed to throw up in private, or does that require an audience too?”

“Go ahead.” Takeshi gestured to the floor, calling her bluff.

Shit. Nothing was working.

“Can’t I just get some space? Is that too much to ask?” She was close to begging.

His brows furrowed at her expression, but he remained in her path. “Do you usually ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“I don’t know. Do you find it difficult enhancing the misery in this place, or does that just come naturally?”

Khalani’s chest rose in agitated breaths. She expected—almost welcomed—a sting from his taser, but Takeshi merely raised an eyebrow, refusing the painful escape she desired.

“Are you finished?”

“Please.” She made a last-ditch effort. “I won’t cause any trouble.”

He gave a humorless chuckle that made her want to slice him apart. “You have trouble written all over you, Kanes.”

“Well, maybe you’re wrong.”

“I’m never wrong.”

Khalani hated men. Especially the ones with muscles. They couldn’t be trusted .

She lifted her hands in exacerbation, giving up on Takeshi holding any sympathy in his tiny, pea-sized heart. “Fine.”

Takeshi’s body froze. “What is that on your arm?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered, turning hastily.

She hadn’t moved a couple inches before he struck.

He swiftly moved forward and grasped her wrist. Her heartbeat increased at the sudden movement, and she tried to break free, but there was no match against Takeshi’s firm grip. The inky depths in his eyes pulsed with savagery. The Captain focused on her forearm, the long cut on full display.

“Your doing? Where did you get a knife?” Takeshi snapped, staring at her accusingly. Her mouth opened in shock, and she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her move.

“Nowhere. I didn’t try to kill myself,” she huffed indignantly. “One of your guards did that.”

“Who?” his voice deepened, chilling the already cool air.

“It doesn’t even matter,” she fumed. “Let me go.” Khalani didn’t want him to find out, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of fully believing that she was, in fact, too weak for Braderhelm.

A vein pulsed in his neck, and his jaw visibility tightened at her words. Takeshi inched closer, appearing ready to strangle her. His murderous expression hardened, but another cold-blooded voice ripped through the space.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”