Page 18 of King of Ruin

Another pull of the chains and I feel it. The small crack and dip of muscle. Just a little more and–

“Enough,” is all he says before my back meets the hard cement wall.

It isn’t enough to damage my spine but it does hit the perfect nerve that forces me to loosen my hold. In that brief second, he’s able to slip from beneath me and spin around, pinning me to the wall with only the chains wedged between us.

His breathing is ragged, much like mine, and the fire in his eyes is unmistakable as they sweep over my face. I loathe the sweat sparkling across his brow, and the way the green storms in his iris swirl. How he refuses to cause me harm and how somewhere deep inside that makes mewantto trust him.

I bear my teeth, shoving the intrusive thoughts back into their depths. “When all is said and done, your head will make a pretty post near my garden.”

He smirks. “At least you still think I’m pretty.”

“Oh, I think a lot of things about you, Kane. But what I wonder the most…” I let my gaze drop, slowly and methodically, “is if you’re a screamer.”

His lips stretch further upward but then disappear completely. It’s as though he had a witty comeback but it was quickly replaced by something darker. “I’m afraid that’s one thing you won’t get the pleasure of hearing from me.”

Kane withdraws from my body, and I’m immediately surrounded by the cool air. Goosebumps prickle along my bare arms before he yanks the chain and wraps it around his hand twice.

I almost mention how Ihaveheard him scream. The same instance he used my name for the first time. My ears were full of high-pitched ringing and the sounds of faraway men yelling, but still, his voice penetrated the noise. The fear. The urgency. It was clear as day when he screamed my name. It was that very thing that planted the mustard seed in my chest. The seed of hope and admiration. Of loyalty and understanding.

Of feelings I’ve denied myself since my parents’ death.

It was planted in the freshly dug soil that he’d managed to find, but thankfully it hadn’t grown roots and was easily ripped out the moment Phineas opened his mouth.

Iallow Kane to lead me from my current cell, but assure myself it’s only because it’s in hope he brings me somewhere with a toilet.

In the hall, things aren’t much different. Pipes trail along the ceilings and besides the concrete and industrial fluorescent lights, there aren’t any indicators as to where I am other than it’s one of Murphy’s many warehouses. Streaks of blood, both new and old, stain the floors, leading us like a red carpet around a corner and to a steel door at the end of the hall.

Kane turns the knob and pushes it open with ease. Much to my relief, there is a metal toilet similar to the one you’d see in a jail in the corner. In the middle, there are two half loops about eighteen inches apart which are welded in the ground. A chain flows through either end, attached to wide cuffs that instantly remind me of Ryan Reynolds when he was a captive in the thirdBlademovie.

My face snaps to him, anger swelling in my sternum at the realization. “You’re not tying me to my knees, Kane.”

The irony that I’d be essentially kneeling to anyone who walks in the room drives into my core. Despite the emotional tug of war I have regarding Kane, my dignity willnotbe questioned.

“You don’t have a choice. It’s here or back in the other, strung up like a rag doll with no way to piss or sleep.”

“Lock me in here as is.”

“And have you ready to ambush anyone who opens the door?”

“You should be grateful, I’d rid you of weak soldiers.”

He sighs, walking into the small space and tugging my chains with slight force. I feign as if I’m not resisting, but I am. Only now, my strength has truly worn out and it takes my entire effort just to slow my pace against his lackluster pull. My joints have already begun to stiffen, and I’m struggling to keep my balance.

Lifting up the new restraint, he clasps it on my right wrist, above the thin cuffs. When he bends to grab the other, I act quickly, throwing my elbow out and connecting with the hard cartilage of his nose.

His grunt of disapproval is more annoyed than pained, and despite the bright blood dripping from his nose, he clasps the other in place, effectively making me hunch over.

I snarl, my voice lowering to almost an animalistic growl. “I can’t wait to kill you.”

He unlocks the smaller cuffs from my wrist, taking the thin chain with it before looking up at me. His eyes are tired, filled with a guilt I refuse to acknowledge anymore. “Honestly, neither can I.”

Instead of being surprised by his words, I find myself vexed at the hypocrisy. There was a time he told me to feel my demons eat me alive so I could become the rightful queen to properly lead my kingdom. Yet he himself has been living knowing he’d welcome death than to continue on.

That’s the thing about life. Only the strong survive because the alternative is so much easier.

Kane runs a hand over my bruised wrist once before gathering my old restraints and leaving, locking the door behind him.

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