8. Geneva

8

GENEVA

I pace the room, my heart pounding against my ribs. The silky fabric of this ridiculous dress swishes with each step, a constant reminder of my horrible predicament. I glance at the door, half-expecting it to burst open at any moment.

"This can't be happening," I mutter, running my fingers through my hair. "There's got to be a way out."

My gaze darts around the room, searching for anything that might help. A window catches my eye, but it's too small to squeeze through. Besides, we're probably several stories up. And I'm not sure I want to die just yet.

I clench my fists, feeling the hard edges of the crystals digging into my palm. "Come on, Geneva. Think."

The memory of Sylas' cold eyes and cruel smile makes my skin crawl. No way am I letting him or any other dark elf lay a hand on me.

"Okay. Options," I say to myself, trying to keep my voice steady. "I could try to fight my way out. But against a bunch of dark elves? Not likely."

I pause by the mirror, barely recognizing the scared girl staring back at me. The dress hugs my figure in all the wrong ways, making me feel exposed and vulnerable. Seeing myself like this, in this clothing, is nothing short of nauseating.

"Screw this," I growl, yanking at the fabric. "I'm not playing dress-up for anyone."

I rummage through drawers and wardrobes, searching for something, anything else to wear. But it's all the same—revealing outfits designed to please someone else's eye.

"Fine," I huff, slamming a drawer shut. "If I can't change my clothes, I'll change my attitude."

I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders. The girl in the mirror looks a little less scared now, a little more defiant.

"No dark elf is going to hurt me," I say, meeting my own gaze. "I won't let them."

I open my palm, staring at the crystals. They glint in the dim light, holding the promise of freedom. If only I knew how to use them. For now, I put them into one of my pockets. I'm sure I'll need them soon.

"Come on, Calix," I whisper, closing my eyes. "I could really use some demonic advice right about now."

The room remains silent, save for my own ragged breathing. I'm on my own, at least for now.

Finally, the moment I've been dreading. The door creaks open, and my stomach drops. An older dark elf stumbles in, his eyes glazed and unfocused. The stench of alcohol hits me before he even opens his mouth.

"Well, well," he slurs, leering at me. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

I back away, my heart racing. "Sir, I think you've had too much to drink. Maybe you should lie down."

He laughs, a harsh sound that makes me flinch. "Oh, I plan to. With you."

The dark elf lurches forward, reaching for me. I sidestep, my back hitting the wall. "Please, don't touch me."

"Don't be like that, sweetheart," he growls, closing in. "You know why you're here."

His hand grabs my arm, his disgusting fingers digging into my skin. I try to pull away, but he's stronger than he looks.

"Let go," I hiss, pushing against his chest. "I said no!"

The dark elf's face twists with anger. "You little bitch. You don't get to say no."

He shoves me hard, and I stumble, nearly falling. Before I can regain my balance, he's on me again, pawing at my dress.

"Stop it!" I yell, slapping his hands away. "Get off me!"

But he doesn't listen. His grip tightens, and I can feel bruises forming under his fingers. Panic rises in my throat as I realize how quickly this is spiraling out of control.

I knee him in the groin, hard. He doubles over with a grunt, but doesn't let go. Instead, he backhands me across the face, the impact making my head spin.

"You'll pay for that," he snarls, shoving me towards the bed.

I dig my heels in, fighting every step, but he wrestles me down onto the bed. "Help!" I scream, grimacing at the strain on my vocal chords. I'm praying someone, anyone, will hear. "Somebody help me!"

The dark elf clamps a hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. "Shut up," he hisses in my ear. "No one's coming to save you."

I bite down on his hand, tasting blood. He yelps and jerks back, giving me a moment to breathe.

"Calix!" I shout desperately. "Calix, please!"

But the room remains empty, save for me and this monster of a dark elf. I'm on my own, and the realization hits me like a punch to the gut.

The dark elf's hands are everywhere, pawing, groping, violating. I struggle against him, my heart pounding in my ears. In a desperate move, I reach into the folds of my dress, fingers closing around one of the crystals. Its cool surface grounds me for a moment.

"Get off me, you bastard!" I snarl, trying to knee him again.

He laughs, a cruel sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Feisty little thing, aren't you? Don't worry. I'm gonna fuck the defiance out of you."

As he pins me against the bed, his weight crushing the air from my lungs, I close my eyes tight, focusing on the crystal in my hand. My fingers clench around it so hard I fear it might shatter. Calix's face flashes in my mind, his red eyes glowing with otherworldly power, and for a moment, I feel a surge of hope.

"Come on," I mutter through gritted teeth, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. "Work, damn you!" I plead silently, desperately willing the crystal to do something, anything to save me from this nightmare.

I picture the dark elf's soul, imagining it as a writhing, inky mass pulsing within his chest. In my mind, I reach out, grasping at it with spectral fingers that tremble with effort. I pull with all my might, trying to yank it from his body and into the crystal. The strain makes my head throb, but I don't let up. It's my only chance, and I'll be damned if I don't fight with everything I have.

Nothing happens.

The dark elf's hot breath is on my neck. "Stop squirming, little bitch. You're making this harder than it needs to be," he growls.

Panic claws its way up my throat, threatening to choke me. I grit my teeth and concentrate harder, picturing the dark elf's soul being sucked into the crystal like water down a drain. I can almost see it, a swirling vortex of darkness being pulled away from his body. But still, nothing happens.

"Please," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. I'm not sure if I'm begging the crystal, some higher power, or just the universe itself. "Please work. I need you to work."

The dark elf's hot, rough hands fumble with the straps of my dress, his fingers brushing against my skin and making me shudder with revulsion. I squeeze the crystal so hard it bites into my palm, the sharp edges drawing blood. The pain grounds me, reminds me that I'm still fighting. I won't give up, not while I still have breath in my body.

And then, suddenly, the dark elf makes a strange noise. It's a gargling sound, like he's choking on something. His grip on me loosens, and the weight pushing itself on my body disappears.

"What the—" he sputters, stumbling back.

I open my eyes to see him clutching at his throat, eyes wide with panic. A faint, silvery mist seems to be seeping from his mouth, nose, and eyes.

"Holy shit," I breathe, watching in horrified fascination as the mist streams towards the crystal in my hand.

The dark elf collapses to his knees, still making that awful choking sound. His skin turns ashen, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"What's happening?" I ask, but there's no one to answer.

The dark elf's body crumples to the ground with a sickening thud, his eyes wide and empty. I stare at the lifeless form, my heart pounding hard in my ears. The crystal in my hand pulses with an eerie warmth, and I swear I can hear a faint whisper coming from within.

"Holy fuck. Shit," I breathe, my voice barely audible. "Did I just... kill him?"

I stumble back, my legs hitting the edge of the bed. I sit down hard, unable to tear my eyes away from the body. The reality of what just happened crashes over me suddenly.

There should be some remorse in taking someone's soul. But right now, I feel… relieved. Amazed, even. Thrilled that I have this sort of power.

And now, that sick bastard's soul thrums gently in my palm. Within the crystal Calix gave me.

Maybe stealing souls isn't too bad of a task after all.