Page 99 of Merciless Prince
When I came up for air, I found myself in a dark tunnel that smelled of algae and wet earth. I took another deep breath and went back underwater, paddling as fast and hard as I could.
I came up for air again thirty seconds later, gasping loudly as violent shivers wracked my body. Something was bobbing in the briny water up ahead. I could only see the smallest glimpse of a shadowy outline, but I had a feeling I knew what it was.Please let me be right,I begged the universe.
I blinked the water out of my eyes and waited for them to adjust to the space around me. Then I let out a victorious whoop and climbed onto the left bank of the stream. I’d made it to the grotto.
The dark shapes in the water up ahead were exactly what I was looking for—the swan-shaped boats I remembered seeing last time I was here. If the underground stream led outside like I suspected it did, I could paddle one of the boats out to freedom.
I just had to hope the weather wasn’t too bad outside. If it was windy, I could get swept the wrong way out into the Hudson and capsize in the deep water. I could also become hypothermic on the journey, seeing as my clothes were soaking wet and sticking to my skin like a thin layer of ice.
I was willing to risk all of that, though. It was preferable to being a prisoner in this castle forever.
I walked over to the nearest boat and carefully stepped into it. It was such a small vessel that it started rocking crazily as soon as I put all my weight on the bottom, but it settled a moment later.
With my heart pounding, I untied the neck of the swan from the wooden post on the edge of the grotto and let the flowing water drag me out into the middle of the narrow stream.
My skin prickled with anxiety as the babbling water slowly propelled me further into the darkness. I felt something at my feet a moment later and looked down, sighing with relief when I realized it was a wooden oar on the floor of the boat. I picked it up and dipped it in the dark water, letting the rhythmic push and pull of paddling calm my nerves.
The stream began to flow faster, and a dot of light appeared up ahead. It had to be the mouth of the cave that the water flowed out of.
My suspicion was confirmed a few minutes later as moonlight flooded the tunnel, lighting the water with bright ripples. Euphoria flooded my veins, and my lips curved into a wide smile.
I was close to freedom now.
The stream grew more powerful near the cave mouth, quickly sweeping me out to the river. I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air and looked around to get my bearings. Everything felt different now that I was free of the castle. The moonlight seemed more radiant than ever before, the air smelled intoxicatingly sweet, and the distant mountains looked more beautiful than I remembered.
The Hudson stretched out in front of me like an infinite black snake, moonlight shimmering on the choppy surface like a million sparkling scales. On my left, I could see a distant marshy area lined with trees. That was the spot I had to steer the little boat toward. If I went the other way, I’d wind up right in the middle of the river without a hope in the world.
I shifted my weight and used the paddle to turn the head of the boat in the right direction. Just as I was about to start paddling again, a heavy wind picked up, buffeting me with icy air. The tiny boat rocked violently, and I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming as I tried to steady it.
Another gust of wind hit the area a moment later, whipping up whitecaps on the river as salty water sprayed all over my face. I clenched my jaw and paddled as hard as I could, refusing to let myself tip over. I couldn’t fail now.
I pushed myself farther and farther away from Beaumont Island, letting the castle lights fade behind me. Instead of focusing on the fierce winds and chilling mental images of the boat flipping over, I lulled myself into a temporary sense of security by breathing in rhythm with my paddling and concentrating on the river’s wild beauty.
After what felt like an hour of paddling, I finally found myself in the marshy area near the riverbank. I wasn’t able to see it properly earlier, but now I could tell that it was actually the mouth of a stream that fed into the Hudson. It was hard to paddle against the current, but I steeled my jaw, swallowed my nerves, and tried my best anyway.
The new stream was narrow and bounded by steep banks with weeping willows that trailed their long branches in the water like hair. The tranquil silence and ethereal beauty calmed my racing heart, and I drew in a deep breath and let my shoulders relax.
The further upstream I ventured, the darker and narrower it got, until it terminated in a small pond by another marshy area. I steered the little boat over to the edge of the pond and clambered onto the bank. Then I reached into the water and dragged the vessel onto the reedy shore in case I needed it again.
A forested slope rose from the ground on my right. I climbed to the top and looked over the moonlit landscape below, and my heart accelerated when I spotted a winding road. The closest part of it was only thirty-odd yards away.
I broke into a run through the woods, body tingling with exhilaration. I couldn’t believe my crazy escape plan actually worked. But itdid.I was free as a bird.
My happiness was short-lived, replaced seconds later by a sick twist in the pit of my stomach.
There was a familiar black car parked on the edge of the road, and a man was leaning against the hood.
Killian.
29
Shay
“No.”
I fell to my knees as emotion flooded my body. It didn’t feel like regular sadness or shock. It was physical, making my throat close up, my stomach twist, my head ache like it was trapped in a vise.
Killian looked down at me, face impassive in the pale moonlight. “Did you enjoy your little adventure?”
