Page 7 of Hopeless Kingdom
A single step is all I take toward him, letting my chest brush against his as he glares down into my fuming gaze.
“Maybe he’ll even let you watch,” I whisper in a shaking breath that barely maintains my emotions.
Then he’s shoving me. My back hits the wall and his body covers every inch of mine. He holds himself on his arms above my head as he stares down at me, his warm breath fanning between us. The feel of his thrashing heart shakes into me, and it dictates my own heartbeats until they mirror one another, beat for beat.
He tilts his head low, his lips just a breath away from mine.
“Don’t ever think that I would allow his fucking hands to touch you.” His promise is spoken in a rage-filled whisper. Fury shines in his eyes like I’ve only ever seen when he used his powers on the soldier who lost his face to Darrio’s magic. Would the simple cuffs on his wrists really prevent that raw power from leaving him?
His attention falls to my lips, and for a second, I remember he hasn’t kissed me since I slapped him. Desire spreads through me with that thought alone. He and I have this tension between us like I’ve never felt with anyone else. The way his body’s aligned with mine, the energy I feel pooling through him, it has me shifting my thighs against his.
The thoughts are smothered out as I realize he’s the reason I’m here at all. I’m a prisoner of the Kingdom of Juvar because he lied to me.
“If you don’t intend to tell your king that, then I suggest you stop looking at me as if I’m yours,Rio.”
Harshly, I shove against his chest, pushing past him. The door eases open under my touch, and I don’t look back at him as it closes behind me. My head leans back against the door and a shaking sigh parts my lips. Wet tears sting my eyes, but I breathe out the emotions until the tightness in my chest dissolves into a manageable feeling.
The noise that clicks through the room is so quiet I barely hear it. But I do hear it; the sound of a lock clicking in place.
Just like a good little servant, Darrio Riles just locked me in my room.
The frustration in me simmers as I take in my new lavish jail cell.
The room is elegant. Fresh, white blankets line the enormous bed. It looks soft and inviting, the nicest bed I’ve ever seen, actually. A small sitting area takes up most of the space. Two swooping loveseats face each other. A worn wardrobe stands at the far end of the room, and in the opposite corner is a shining claw foot tub. Everything is open. There’s not a single place to hide in the room. And, upon closer inspection, not a single extra weapon is gifted to me. I’m allowed one towel, several choices of outfits and, for whatever reason, a basket of cookies.
They really rolled out the welcome wagon here. A heavy sigh parts my lips as I scan over my room once more.
The balcony window chants my name on repeat and my feet carry me to it the moment I hear Darrio’s boots fade away down the hall.
There’s no lock!
There’s no fucking lock on the balcony doors.
Oh, could they be so stupid?
The glass doors swing open with an announcing shriek of the hinges, and my fingers grip the cold stone railing. Down, down, down my gaze travels. Darkness eludes the depths of the earth. I’m so high up I cannot see the ground. The tips of flames can be seen in the distance; smoke and darkness is all that greets me.
This land was once my home. I squint against the smoky clouds. The small cottage I grew up in with my father flashes through my mind and I try to imagine it as one of the rooftops outlined in the distance.
Wishful reminiscing is all it is. And I don’t have time fond memories at the moment.
I step closer to the edge and find that the surface of the building is rough concrete, but entirely flat. Not one handhold is offered to me. I peek up at the space above me to find one more floor. A balcony is just above, and several high yards above it is the slate black roof.
Okay … if I can’t go down … I should go up?
Up is better than having to go down … on Tristan.
That thought sours my stomach, but it gets my feet moving quickly enough. I hoist myself up on the smooth rail and balance my weight. My stomach twirls uneasily, and I hug my thin frame to the wall. I’m not afraid of heights but the mysterious darkness below makes plenty room for fear to trickle in. Concrete scuffs my cheek as my long hair dances recklessly in the wind.
On the toes of my boots, I reach for the balcony above. I teeter, stretching to the fullest of my meek height. The cool breeze is all that meets my fingertips. It’s about five feet from my reach. A shaking breath skims through my clenched teeth, and the image of Tristan’s cruel mouth fuels my movements. On a last-ditch effort, I leap for it.
The smoky air catches my body in the gentle winds, shooting heart-pounding fear all through me.
But it isn’t enough.
I land hard on my knees. My palms sting into the floor of my balcony. Slowly, my eyes close as I stay hunched on the ground.
I breathe deeply through my nose.
