27. Adrianna

27

ADRIANNA

T he stained walls behind me only look slightly clean in comparison to the state of the bars that frame me in the rest of the cell. It's almost ironic. The metal cage that holds me captive is the same one we freed my father from. It seems fitting.

Maybe they could name the space after my family, call it a tradition, and be done with it.

There's a woman in the cell across from me. She's turned away, leaning against the wall as she seemingly sleeps or chooses to ignore my existence. I'm okay with it either way. The guard station is empty, all of the soldiers residing on the other side of the door that acts as an additional layer of security between them and us.

There are no beds, toilets, or even sheets, but I don't know what I expected. I'm locked up here as a criminal; I don't deserve those things.

Bending my knees, I sigh, letting my head fall against the wall as I brace my arms around my legs. One thing this place does is leave you with nothing but your thoughts, and mine are going around and around, wreaking havoc inside of me.

Vallie is dead… because of me. It's a fact I'm not sad about, and I definitely don't regret putting an end to her. It may have happened over her provoking me, but she's done worse and I should have acted sooner. I just shouldn't have done it like that. Filled with rage and barely in control in front of a full crowd.

No one is ever going to believe in me now.

Everything I've worked tirelessly for, everything my father worked himself to the bone for, was all for nothing.

Guilt doesn't plague me. Disappointment does.

On top of all that, I have four men who I am entirely obsessed with, and know in my gut that they deserve better than this; than me. Maybe I was put in their path to show them what not to do, how to be better and not make such foolish and selfish decisions.

I wouldn't be surprised if they were realizing all of this now, in my absence. As much as it hurts my heart and soul, it's probably the best. For them at least.

My head falls forward, my chin resting on my chest as I take another defeated breath. I need a break from my mind. I need the soldiers to get their asses in here and get on with whatever they have planned, which I'm sure is nothing compared to the feelings eating away at me.

I feel like I'm stuck at the bottom of an old well. There's no hope of getting out, the sunlight above barely more than a dot, I'm so deep. When I think it can't get any worse, water starts to rise from the ground, soaking my boots.

I'm drowning in my own anxiety.

My fingers wind their way into my hair, clinging to the messy braid as I will the pent-up strain to fuck off, but I get the feeling I won't be so lucky. Not anytime soon. My self-loathing has reached new heights and there's nothing I can do about it.

There's always something that can be done, Addi.

I push the thought from my mind. I've been programmed to fight, to take the hard road if there's hope waiting at the end of it. But right now, sinking in the inky black water and letting it consume me feels less painful.

"Your thoughts are giving me a headache."

I startle at the statement as my gaze whips to the cell to my left. The woman straightens her legs, slumping back against the wall, and tilts her head in my direction.

Her ears aren't pointed, which makes me think she's not a mind fae, but I'm acutely aware of my ears, so I don't want to assume. Yet I can't see how else my thoughts would be causing her distress. I also have my own mind magic gridlocked so no one can see into my head. It's one of the first things my father taught me, and I need that ability now more than ever.

I'm aware I'm just staring at her, but she doesn't falter under my gaze. Her hair is a chestnut brown, swept back off her face in a neat bun at the base of her neck. Her eyes are as rich as her hair, but there's no light behind them, like she's given up on many things before she got here.

"My thoughts?" I finally manage, keeping my voice even as I peer at her, and she shrugs.

"I'm familiar with internal pain. It's drifting off you in waves." It always takes one to know one. I nod, not bothering to summon a response, but that only seems to encourage her more.

Shifting, she turns to face me, crossing her legs as she laces her fingers together. "Get it off your chest. It always makes me feel better." I'm shaking my head before she's even finished, which makes the corner of her mouth tip up in amusement. "Built like a fortress, huh? I used to be like that. Now, I'm free."

"You don't look free," I retort, pointing at the bars, and she snickers.

"In here," she replies, tapping her temple like she knows something I don't, and she's right. I'm lost in my mind. I don't know anything. I hum, not sure what she's seeking from me, but she doesn't leave me guessing for long. "Once upon a time, I was a small girl, idolized by my family and loved deeply by my brother, mother, and father. Everyone of importance thought I walked on water," she muses, a flash of something in her eyes before it quickly diminishes. "Some might say I abused that with them, used it to my advantage, played them, but I was just a girl, you know. No one wanted to rein me in, so I did what I wanted when I wanted."

"Sounds like fun," I murmur, wondering what it would have been like to grow up without the pain of being a fae girl. Considering who my father is, we were hiding more than most of our kind. He sheltered us, slowly letting us venture deeper into the small village we took refuge in, but not beyond that, never beyond that.

I am and always have been, however, treated like royalty among my family. Between the three of us, we hold each other on pedestals, which isn't all that healthy, I'm sure, but the love we have for one another is unbreakable. I can understand the pull of that feeling. I've felt it myself.

"It was excellent until it wasn't." I can't tell if she wants me to ask, to let her delve deeper into her past, but it seems she doesn't need the prompt. "I overstepped, winding up trapped at their mercy and against my will."

"In here?" I ask, and she shakes her head.

"No, this is nothing in comparison," she states, a ghost of a smile on her face before it quickly disappears. "I was banished, like banished banished."

I know that feeling. Well, kind of. I saw my father, that was bad enough. "That must not have been nice."

She scoffs. "Some may say I deserved it, but I'm not some." A darkness creeps into her eyes, leaving them almost entirely black as she gets lost in her thoughts for a moment. With a single blink, she's present again, eyes meeting mine as she sighs. "I spent almost twenty-five years encapsulated in a crystal."

"A crystal?" I repeat with a frown. How is that even possible?

She hums, pressing her lips together with distaste before she sighs again. "There were once magically infused crystals known as ‘the kiss of death,' that were made entirely from amethyst." My heart rate spikes, but I keep my features neutral. I know what she's talking about, but she doesn't need to know that. "Before they were banned, they were used to basically immobilize magical beings. The only way for such a powerful item to work was to use the soul of another magical being to fuel its power."

My eyes widen. "So the crystal worked by the soul tethering the magical being's powers?" I ask, trying to wrap my head around it, and she nods, her smile growing wider.

"Exactly that."

Holy fuck.

I gulp, shaken by the memory of the very stone that was embedded into my flesh not so long ago. "It's a good thing they banned them then," I murmur, while also wondering what someone could do that would warrant such a punishment. Having the crystal embedded into your body is one thing, but to have your soul held captive in one of them feels like a whole new level of consequences.

"It is," she confirms, eyes locked on me, and it almost feels like she's searching for something—something that would prove I know all about them, but I tamp my emotions down. "So, what has you in here?" she asks, sensing the connection dissolving between us.

I shrug. "I did something I shouldn't have," I admit, and she cackles with amusement.

"Haven't we all? But it must have been a doozy; otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

I look at her, like really look at her, and consider the conversation she's offering. I don't want to boast. I don't want to be glorified by another criminal, but I also understand what she means about getting things off my chest.

The chances of ever seeing this woman again are very unlikely, and that's if I make it out of here at all. With that, I take a deep breath and answer her. "I killed someone."

She tilts her head, assessing me. "You don't seem mad about it."

"She deserved it," I reply, recalling the time Vallie bit me and the other time she tried to crush me beneath a sheet of ice, plunging me into the frozen depths below.

"So what's running through your head if it isn't guilt?" she asks, and I rub my lips together, giving myself a moment to figure out the right words without giving too much away.

"She was a constant burden, but my actions only served me when I wanted to be more than that."

"More than what?"

I shrug. "More than selfish. More than me. More than a broken fae."

The ache in my chest at the truth of my words hurts like a bitch, but saying it out loud also comes with a wave of relief I didn't know I was chasing.

"That's a lot of more you're after."

I shrug. "I'm not seeking more from anyone else, just myself."

"It must be exhausting."

It's something, but I can't deny how much I want it. To be something, to be someone, to be fucking heroic when the grounds on which I was born were anything but.

"If you could have all of the mores that you wanted, where do you think that would lead you?"

"To be the person I was always meant to be," I answer without missing a beat.

"A thought that has always amused me is who I'm meant to be. Maybe I was never meant to be a villain to many." Is that what I am now? A villain? My gut twists, hating the thought of it as she looks away, staring at the door instead. "I always wanted to be a leader; I wanted to be more than myself, but it was never my fate."

I can only assume that's why she wound up inside a crystal, but I keep my thoughts and lips firmly shut.

Our conversation is drawn to a complete halt when the turn of the lock echoes through the room, drawing my attention to the four soldiers piling into the cell. Their eyes are set on me and I know my time has come. I'm ready to face whatever they want to throw at me.

I don't bother to stand, determined not to look like a fool while I've still got the magical binding drawn tight around my wrists. Silently, the soldiers take great pleasure in hauling me to my feet, and my gaze travels toward the woman who has fed me more knowledge than I was expecting, but her cell is empty.

"Wait. Where did that woman go?" I ask as they head for the door with me in tow.

The guy on my left scoffs, entertaining me for a moment. "What woman?"

"The one that was in that cell," I bite back, confusion and panic shooting through my body as I blink at the empty space.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You've been in here alone. Did you bang your head or something?" he grunts, thrusting me through the door with more force than necessary as the guy on my right huffs.

"How about she shuts the fuck up so she can get on with her punishment."