Page 155 of Dirty Hit

Was she really about to attempt this plan in front of Marvellas?

Faythe decided she might not get another chance like this, and somehow, she believed Nyte having the ability to roam their world was important in their war against Marvellas.

She flicked a look toward the Spirit, who was oblivious that the child she’d started this war for, because he was taken from her, would get to witness all she’d done.

“Your Grace, you’re needed in the drawing room. The scouts of Rhyenelle are back,” a masked soldier informed her.

Faythe’s interest was grabbed, but Marvellas’s eyes flexed in ire to be pulled away. Would they be reporting news about her friends there? She felt sick not knowing if they were safe or if they’d been taken captive despite professing their alliance to Marvellas.

“Take her back to her cell when you’re finished,” Marvellas instructed Daegal, then her fiery sight shifted to Faythe. “I’ll come for you soon. Rest your body and heal your power. We’re so close to breaking that wretched ruin I can feel it, and then our real work begins.”

With that, Marvellas slipped away like a snake on fire.

Faythe barely processed what Marvellas said. Her own spur-of-the-moment planning was swirling her mind now she was alone with the captain. Aside from Zaiana, who stayed.

Daegal was never gentle, pulling her toward him by the chain between her wrists and making her hiss at the chafing stone.

“Maybe I’ll have fun with you before I take you back,” he said, disgustingly low in her ear. “Payback for that little stunt you pulled in the cells before.”

His hand slipped around her waist, and Faythe’s whole body surged with repulsion. Instinct took over as her bound hands reached over his head, then she crossed her wrists, strangling him with the chain.

Daegal choked and hissed, grappling the chain, which burned his skin with the Magestone.

“Help me,” he spluttered to Zaiana.

“I don’t think so.”

Zaiana took up a casual lean against the wall, but Faythe needed the shackles off to reach enough of her power to attempt to infiltrate his mind. Daegal pushed her, sending them crashing into the wall. A jolt of pain lanced up her spine, slackening her grip, which was enough for him to drive his knee into her gut, causing her to let him go.

Faythe fell to her knees, winded and gasping for breath. He kicked her again, and Faythe slumped in a pitiful heap. Her sight focused across the dark stone she lay on, catching on a glint of metal. The key for her shackles.

She couldn’t give up.

Faythe crawled for it, but Daegal dragged her back by her ankle, flipping her onto her back and straddling her. His eyes were wild are terrifying as he gripped her wrists and yanked her hands above her head.

“I actually quite like your fight,” he said gutturally.

Nausea roiled in her stomach and burned in her throat.

Shecouldn’tgive up.

Faythe clamped her knees onto his hips, and with a battle cry, she threw every ounce of her rage and adrenaline into her core. The momentum flipped them, sending Daegal slamming onto his back. In Faythe’s next breath, her fist flew into his temple once, twice, and by the time she pulled back for a third, she noticed his head rolling back limply.

She panted above him, and when the adrenaline to survive started to cool, tremors racked her body. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she would not cry.

“Impressive,” Zaiana commented.

A rattle skidded against stone until it hit her knee. Zaiana had kicked the key to her.

Faythe’s glare couldn’t be more hateful slipping up to the dark fae.

Zaiana rolled her eyes at it. “He wouldn’t have gotten much further than pinning you had you not fought back.”

Her anger tried to cool, but it was difficult around Zaiana’s unpredictability. Did Faythe really believe Zaiana would have intervened before Daegal could violate her?

“You could have helped sooner,” Faythe grumbled, swiping up the key.

“All I’ve seen is your fight for others. I wanted to see how determined you could become to fight for yourself. For once, you didn’t disappoint.”

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