Page 53 of #Resort Love
“Guards,” Ambrose barked, his eyes never breaking from Ezra’s. “Take Ezra to the dungeons. We will see just whose side you’re on.”
The guards filed into the room, grabbing Ezra by his massive arms, shoving him out the door and into the hallway. Ezra yelled out, but his words fell on deaf ears as Ambrose turned to me, his lips curling in an unnerving smile. “Now, I think it’s time for us to have a little fun with this bargain ofours, don’t you think, my darling Sybil?” His low laugh grated against my ears; my throat tightened at the implication of his words.
I didn’t notice Arianna until she stood beside me. Pain throbbed down my arm when she pulled me off the floor. A small noise came out of me, one made of fear. Once I was on my feet, her hand moved to the back of my neck, her nails digging into my skin, pushing me to the doorway. I stumbled and was caught by a guard who stood close to Ambrose.
I met Ezra’s wild stare when the guard shoved me into the hallway. I trembled under the guard’s touch, my eyes wide. It was all happening too fast. I’d been afraid before, when wolves threatened me as a girl, when my father’s anger became explosive, even today when I was attacked. But nothing,nothingfelt like this. None of those times felt so cold or so desolate.
Ezra called out for me, grunting against his restraints as he tried to get to me. One of the guards punched him in the side, and he hissed. Looking back, he mouthedit’s okayover and over while they led him down the hallway.
“Ambrose, stop this,” I pleaded, pushing away from the guard to hold onto his vest. “Ezra hasn’t done anything wrong.”
Ambrose didn’t answer; he just stared at me with such brutality that when he stepped out of my grip, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I could only watch, frozen, as he sneered, raising his hand in the air and swiftly bringing it down across my face.
I cried out, falling to the floor, pain lacing through my face. Terror, utter terror, splintered through me.
Ezra must have seen it, must have glanced back one final time as they turned the corner. He yelled my name, fighting against the guards to get to me. I watched, my eyes blurred and burning, as the guards clashed against him, beating him until hewas disoriented enough to restrain him again. They dragged him around the corner, my name still ringing from his lips.
When the last of the guards followed, Ambrose turned his piercing eyes on me. Whimpering, I pushed myself back against the wall, every fiber of my being screaming, begging for me to run, to escape this new prison.
“Grab her,” Ambrose growled, not breaking his fixed stare, annoyance edging his voice. “We don’t want to keep ourguestwaiting.”
Ambrose continued glaring, my body too shaky and heavy to move. But then Ambrose winced. Shock flashed so quickly in those deep blue eyes that even Arianna missed it. He looked away, moving down the hall. “We don’t have all day.” Every word had a bite to it, an edge.
Arianna grabbed me by the neck, shoving me forward to follow Ambrose. I stumbled but found my footing before I could fall back to the ground. Hugging myself, I quietly walked behind Ambrose, my heart twisting at the sickening feeling that a far greater hell awaited me.
We made our way through the palace, turning at the door beside the dragon statue Samian had advised me to avoid just a few days ago. Passing through the entrance, the hallway changed from that once-pristine marble of the palace to the old stones that matched the outdoor corridor of the training grounds. Samian told me that parts of the old palace remained hidden within the new, but instead of the antiquated beauty of the outdoor corridor, this passage was cold and dark.
Eventually, we began to pass several empty cells of the dungeon, and pained moans filled the air. I swallowed hard, my steps faltering, my legs feeling like lead. Arianna clucked her tongue, pushing me to the door of a harshly lit cell.
I swallowed my gasp when I saw a man tied to a chair, hisbody drenched and caked in blood. Some of it fresh, some old. His dark brown hair lay limp against his forehead, wet from the sweat that beaded along his face. His breathing was labored, and blood trickled down from his nose. There was a nasty cut over his eyebrow, as if he was hit with something hard and blunted.
Ambrose opened the cell, the rusted hinges screeching, making the man open his tired green eyes. Arianna shoved me into the cold cell and stepped in with me. Ambrose entered last, closing the door behind us.
“Now, I think some introductions are in order,” Ambrose said, moving behind the chair, placing his hands on the man’s trembling shoulders. The man seemed to curl into himself, whimpering at Ambrose’s soft touch, so at odds compared to his cold, unreadable appearance.
“Sybil, meet my good friend, Arbus. Arbus is suspected of being part of the silly little rebel uprising, isn’t that right my dear friend?” Ambrose tightened his grip on Arbus’s shoulder, making him cry out in pain. My stomach churned, nausea rippling through me while Ambrose continued. “We found him spying on our soldiers with notes on our formation, where the soldiers were heading, and the types of weapons in our possession. We believe he was planning on giving this information to the leader of the rebellion so the rebels could attack our soldiers before they even made it out of the valley.
We have already deemed him guilty after squeezing out all the information he had, so we don’t need to go into further interrogations. Instead, we are here to not only test out this little bargain of ours, but also to give him his punishment. Today, Sybil, your job is to deliver that punishment.”
My knees quaked, so much that I feared they would buckle. “What punishment is that?” I whispered, my voice too small and weak.
“Death,” Ambrose answered, his lips curling into an unfeeling grin. “Little Arbus’s punishment is death. Andyouwill be the one to do it.”
“No.”
The word rushed out of me as my stomach clenched, twisting so hard that I had to swallow down the bile that rose. Arbus started begging Ambrose to let him live. His eyes filled with desperate tears that only grew when Ambrose tsked and walked to a small table pushed against the wall, picking up a bloodied cloth. That desperation morphed into a frenzy. Arbus thrashed against his chains when Ambrose wrapped the bloodied cloth around Arbus’s mouth, tying it behind his head. Arbus continued those muffled cries, looking at me with pleading despair, his face twisting with agony.
My tears fell freely, and I stumbled back, wanting nothing but to run, but Arianna’s cold hands stopped me from moving.
“Come now, Sybil. We don’t have all day,” Ambrose murmured, a sneer curling his lips.
All I could do was shake my head. I couldn’t speak; my voice was gone, my mind still unable to grasp what Ambrose was demanding of me. Ambrose sighed, displeasure leaking from every pore as he walked to me, gripping my face tightly. I gasped, meeting his cold glare, a small noise escaping my lips.
“Do as I say, and kill him.” His voice was hard and flat.
“No,” I recoiled, barely breathing. “I can’t. I can’t hurt him.”
“I didn’t ask you to hurt him. I asked you to kill him. Those who are found guilty of being part of the rebellion are sentenced to death.” Ambrose pushed me closer to Arbus. “He has been found guilty of being a traitor, so kill him.”
