Chapter 6

Astrid

I t seems so silly to cry over the darkness. Of all the things wrong in my life right now, it should be the least of my concerns. People live without vision all the time. Why can't I learn to?

At least four days have passed since I was branded as the monster's property. It's difficult to understand how long it's been, though, because of the lack of light. The way I count time is through meals, which arrive at regular intervals three times a day.

Wyatt still hasn't shown up and part of me worries about that. Where could he be?

The sharp shooting pains in my hip subsided day one but were replaced with a throbbing ache. Now, the skin is only irritated and itches a little. But I keep putting cream on it that Dilan nodded to before the last time I saw her. I know just how to find it.

Three and a half steps to the sink, reach to the left, open the cabinet door, crawl fingers up about one foot, and there it sits next to my toothbrush. I named it Ted. Ted likes to sing about sunshine and no more rainy days. He's probably seen enough water to last his lifetime of about three months. That's how long until one should replace them, right?

Life would be so much easier if they would let me have light.

But apparently, that's a problem. When Lydia brought me dinner on the second evening after I arrived, she blew out the lone sconce until an abyss of blackness surrounded me. All she said was, "This is for your own good."

When I asked her to please light it again, she wouldn't. In fact, she's mean, and her only gracious act is to shove my tray at me three times a day. During every meal, she slides it across the stone floor and snaps at me, "Here. Eat your food, Mrs. Strauss."

She carries a flashlight, which makes her presence worse since it's the only source of vision I have. A glimpse into what life must be like in the sun… I remember that glowing orb in the sky. It was nice.

Those daily garden visits I was promised haven't happened. I have a feeling I was promised a lot that won't get delivered.

Sniffling, I decide tonight I'm trying a different tactic. As soon as I hear her coming, I'm going to spider monkey out of the corner, tackle her, and take her down. From what I can gather, they brought me in from the left of the cell. That must be where the stairs are that lead outside. If I can push her out of the way, then I'll take off at a sprint in that direction, keeping my hand on a wall to make sure I'm running straight. The first door I come to, I'm busting out.

Then I'll find Wyatt.

It's been too long since we last saw each other, but he must know I'm here. He said in his last letter that the people he works for are powerful and he'll come get me as soon as he overthrows the consort. No one was ever supposed to know about me, so I'm not sure how my fiancé found out. All I know is that Wyatt never wanted his organization to discover my existence because they're dangerous. But so is the master. I'm not sure which would be worse.

I bet Wyatt's group would let me have a candle.

It must be lunch because I smell the bread Lydia carries down the hall before I hear her footfalls. Since living in darkness, my other senses have peaked to what I like to think of as radioactive. Today, the girl has some type of rubbery, bitter scent that wafts in with my meal.

As nimble as I can, I slip behind the cell door and wait.

Her shuffles come as well as her tiny ray of light, like she's a theater attendant. All I spot is the dancing blue bulb as her hips sway. Careful to keep myself from detection, I hold my breath and press back against the wall as she unlocks the gate, balancing my tray on one forearm. It creaks loudly as it swings open, and I lunge.

Using the tiny strength I have, I grapple with her as she screams, and the silver tray clatters to the ground. I find a handful of hair and tug, then swing, but only hit the air. An elbow crashes into my belly, and I bend forward until she shoves her knee into my nose, causing me to fall to the ground in agony. Blood gushes from my face and I quickly tongue my teeth. They're all still there.

"You fucking bitch! Enjoy the food on the floor, then." With a crash, she slams the cell door and locks it.

I sob once again. This time from defeat and pain.

After another pity party, I pull the lettuce out of my hair and munch on it with a sore nose and lips. My fingers feel their way across the floor to the tomato, then some turkey. The bun must have rolled outside the cell because I can't find it.

Oh…but this must be her flashlight!

"I'll name you Fred. Fred the flashlight. You're my new best friend, Fred. Ted was getting tiresome with his songs about the rain." Clicking it on briefly, I spot the rest of my food lying on the other side of the bars, just out of my reach. No worries. I've got something better now.

I can see!

Using Fred to illuminate my face, I clean up my nose as best I can, plugging my nostrils with toilet paper. Then, I put on a light show. Letting Fred have his way around the room, I click the light on and off, and cover the walls with temporarily lighted shadow wallpaper.

Several hours later, I tuck Fred under my pillow to preserve his battery. As far as I can tell, I have two days until my birthday. I don't know if my new husband plans to keep me in this cell after we marry or not, but I'll gather everything I can get my hands on. Maybe I could even trade things with other prisoners like I've seen them do on TV.

Just need to refine my plan of escape for the next time Lydia shows up with my tray.

Except when dinner arrives, it isn't her who comes by. The footsteps down the hall are lighter, the person smaller. And the torch is an actual candle this time. Chloe has a friendlier face than the others, with long pink hair. All the women I have seen appear to be at least five or ten years older than me.

As she spots me hovering near the door, her grin turns to a frown. "I'm so sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I heard about your trouble. No one knew you were here in the dark. Lydia was supposed to take care of that. Would you mind stepping back so I can open the door, and I'll light your sconce?"

She's so assured in her words and stance; I know she won't open the door until I back away. I move to stand near my sink, and she smiles, which turns creepy in the flickers of the dancing flame. After opening the door, she shuts it tightly, then sets the tray on my side table. As she said, she lights the sconce and sets the candlestick next to my food.

Glancing around my cell, she says, "Well, I love what you've done with the place. Please, eat. I don't want to keep you from that. Just figured you could use a chat or some company."

Hurrying to my cot, I sit and take a bite. Meals are the same almost every day. Eggs and oats for breakfast, tomato soup and grilled cheese or a turkey sandwich for lunch, and beef stew for dinner. It's dinnertime now, and this is different. Perhaps chicken noodle soup with added vegetables. Letting it drizzle out of the spoon, I check to make sure nothing funny is in it.

She leans against the far wall, watching me a moment before she says, "Sorry, it's canned. We're getting short on supplies, but I think Sev is going out for more beef soon."

Swallowing, my brow furrows. "What do you mean ‘supplies'?"

"Well, none of us have been allowed to leave since… It's gotten too dangerous to leave, the master says. Especially for him." She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "And that means you, too."

"No one leaves House Strauss?"

With a shake of her head, she sits cross-legged on the floor. "Nope. Not in a while. Dilan sometimes leaves with Sev, and Falcon goes out often. Sev hunts for supplies. But the bear killed the master's loyal guards."

My jaw drops. "There are bears around here?" I envision a pile of dead men mauled with slashes from claws across their dismembered bodies.

Chloe snorts. "No, not actual bears. The Eastern clan's emblem has one on it. I forget you're not from here."

I think of the old family pendant my father showed me once when I was a child. He said it was from his father and he would give it to Wyatt when he came of age. Of course, my father was murdered before that happened and then they took my brother away.

"And the master doesn't have anyone guarding him?" Perhaps I could use that to my advantage.

"Not many. The few who do are the ones who brought you here. Enzo, Luka, a few others. Everyone else, the ones you may see just outside are… Where are you from again?"

"Lecherton." I say it emphatically, but then think about it longer. "Well, I mean. I guess here, in a way."

Chloe's expression turns serious. "Yes, the snakes." Quickly, she smiles again, as if recalling who she's talking to.

Shrugging off her prejudice, I grimace. "My parents were killed when I was nine. My brother was only with me until he was sixteen. I never knew my grandparents. But yeah. I guess I am a Barrington."

"Not for long." She starts cleaning up my plate on the tray for me and I sit back. Her abruptness makes me wonder how much these people hate me for something I never did. But just as I think she's being rude, she smiles and pours me more water.

Despite the dim light, I can make out her face of makeup and styled hair. She's pretty. How many of the women does the master have sex with? All of them?

Am I just a political pawn? A way to get back at Wyatt and me for having blood that's different from his?

"Why has the master never married? Or has he before? Has he had children?"

Her long hair falls over her small shoulder as she shakes her head. "No. Master has too many of us to love, he says. I think he was trying to court Livia Von Dovish, but she fell in with the bear even after he'd tried to stop it."

Chloe sits on the cot next to me and runs her fingers through my hair delicately. Placing the bulk of it over my shoulder, she stands and gets my hairbrush from the cabinet and returns. Instead of the harsh movements Lydia always has, hers are gentle and kind. Turning so she can reach more of my head, I close my eyes at the comfort of having someone be nice to me.

"He also tried to court Miss Arianna Freidenberg. But he couldn't leave the house to stop her wedding to the wolf." Dropping her voice to a whisper, she glances outside the cell. "There are forces that prevented him from doing so."

"Forces?" What kind of brutal madman is stopped from marrying who he wants? "But I thought…" Worse than that is some weird, nagging sensation that she said he loves them. His slaves. Does he? Does that mean he won't love me?

That seems like a very dangerous place to be. Outside of his love.

"Listen. If I get the opportunity, I'll come and, uh, you know…" She leans forward and whispers again in my ear. "Let you out. If I can."

I gasp as my breath catches. Is she truly being helpful? It seems she has been so far. She stands and returns the hairbrush to its shelf and gathers up my tray, but I stop her from leaving. "How long do you think I'll be here? Like, not after the wedding, right?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. But I'll try to help you. You must be bored to tears down here. But it's nicer than when I first arrived. I was in a cage for weeks. Do you want a book or anything?"

Standing with excitement running through my bones, I practically scream. "Yes! Can I get anything about archaeology or some paper and a pencil to draw with? Anything like that?"

Her wide lips smile and she giggles. "Sure. I'll come back in about an hour with both of those things. Again, I'm sorry Lydia did that. I don't think master will appreciate it when I tell him."

Well. I guess I was wrong. My first friend. I haven't had one since I was a child in elementary school.

Once she goes, I settle back on my cot. The deafening silence is my next hurdle. If I strain my ears, I hear a grandfather clock chiming the hours. Sometimes it's louder, as if a door opens. I thought I heard screaming and a slapping sound once. But mainly, all I make out is the wind whistling through some unseen cracks in the stones.

Chloe comes back before the hour is up, and my shoulders relax at the sound of her lithe steps. So I guess I have one person I can trust here. She doesn't open the door this time, though, but does hand me two books, a pad of drawing paper, and a charcoal pencil through the iron bars. One book is on ancient artifacts found in Siberia, which seems fascinating.

"Here. I can bring you more if you finish with these. But I need to attend to my other duties. Enjoy."

Taking them, I thank her and sit on my cot to study the book. In two hours, I've sketched out a copy of knight armor found near Omsk. Barely hearing anything around me, my mind is stuck in the past, four thousand years ago, dreaming of what life must have been like then.

"What is that?"

A deep tenor ringing through the air scares me so much, I overthrow my little table, spilling everything on it. Jumping onto my cot with a scream, I scan outside my cell, and horror floods my body.

The master lurks just outside with a slight grin on his wicked face.