Chapter 10

Gray

We all had our roles; mine proved the riskiest. While Scarlett gathered weapons for me and Cotton distracted the guards, Hazel would be sneaking into Amethyst’s office to find the invaluable antidotes. In order for her to do that, my father needed to be distracted.

Everyone protested, but there was no other way to keep King Forest occupied while the others did their part. Plus, it would give me a chance to confront the man I called Father.

My stomach churned at the prospect of entering the King’s Quarters. I stood before the door, steeling my nerves to enter the luxurious space. I punched the code into the keypad and pushed the handle down with a click. The creak from the heavy door screamed into the silent foyer.

With a deep breath to snuff out my fear, I crossed the threshold and called upon the darkest parts of myself as I walked toward the living area.

My father’s brand of poisonous energy radiated from the living room, and I didn’t mean his magic.

“Where’ve you been?” King Forest’s refined voice reached me as I approached the white carpet. He stood with his back to me, dressed in the same charcoal suit from the revel as he oversaw his ruined city.

Through the glass doors leading to the balcony, the sun rose over the decrepit Atlanta skyline. Moss and greenery climbed the buildings as their structures began to crumble.

I wouldn’t cower, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. He had ultimate power in this world. Who was I to stop him?

I observed his bored stance from behind. The thought of blasting him through the balcony doors crossed my mind. It was tempting. I could level the entire building and not feel a thing aside from unequivocal rage, but that wasn’t my current goal.

Ice cubes clinked in a crystal glass, chilling aged whiskey from pre-Devolution Day. Like a statue holding long-buried secrets, the Kinetic King stood proud while he stared at the enlarged painting of the beautiful, pink-haired woman that hung by the porcelain fireplace. Whenever I inquired about the woman’s identity, he told me it was only a model. I never believed him.

I kicked off my heels, and they clicked against the marble floor of the foyer before rolling to land on the carpet. “I had a bit too much to drink last night. Had to sleep it off somewhere or…with someone,” I answered dryly, both of us aware of the lie. Antagonize him, that was my plan.

“I didn’t realize that being a drunken whore was in a princess’s job description,” he snapped and turned to face me. A sour expression engulfed his genteel face as he took in my disheveled state. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised. You were always too eager to please others.”

I sneered, “Well, they please me between my thighs, so I call it a win.”

“That fucking mouth of yours is a dick sedative,” my father spat, his upper lip peeling back. “I’m sure you even fail in that department.”

I chuckled and took soft steps into the living room, the plush carpet squeezing between my toes, cushioning the soles of my feet. Inches separated us. I only came chest-level with him, but I held his glare all the same. The bottomless depths of his eyes threatened to swallow me whole. “And I’m sure you need a dick reviver, old man. However…” I drawled, taunting him. “The men I please love my filthy fucking mouth.”

His fist struck my cheekbone. It was a powerful blow that had me reeling from the impact. I stumbled back a few steps and clutched the sharp, bruising pain. My smile turned feral.

I wanted this. I had hoped for a reason to brawl with the king. To have a chance to kill him, slowly and painfully. Even if that wasn’t the main goal, it would be a lovely bonus. Forcing him to crack his composed exterior was the way to do it.

“Strike a nerve, did I, Father?” I asked, followed by an unhinged chuckle. The urge to unleash years of pent-up resentment and emotional pain ravaged me. For a brief moment, I could understand Griffin’s madness.

The king shook his head and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You were a mistake, Gray.”

“I’m pretty sure the daily beatings for the past fifteen years have instilled that point.”

The king stiffened and straightened his cufflinks in nonchalance, regaining his composure. “You’ve always been such an obstinate learner, my dear.”

“My apologies for failing to be the perfect little child soldier you’ve always dreamt of,” I said, struggling to keep the emotion from my voice. I squared my shoulders and held my palms facing outwards at my sides. Oh, how hard I’d tried to be the next Chrome Freyr for him. In the end, it was never enough.

I drew energy into my aura, building my reserves for a substantial electric blast. I was grateful Scarlett, Cotton, and Hazel lent their energies to me, but I would need more in order to best my father.

“It’s a little late for apologies, daughter,” the king said in a condescending tone. “Don’t you think?” A strand of his perfectly styled, deep-green hair fell across his eye. The blue undertones caught on the rays of the rising sun. He calmly pushed it back into place with delicate precision.

“Perhaps.” My palms vibrated from the energy waves I absorbed. The air cooled, and the lights dimmed as I stole the electricity for myself.

Father looked around the room with a knowing smirk, able to sense my absorption fueling the strength of my magic. “Still being defiant, I see.”

I ground my teeth and thrust out my palms, expecting a large blast to slam into him. My heart dropped to the floor when nothing happened.

My magic vanished. It was just gone.

And that could only mean…

“Grim…” Dread sunk deep into my core. I shook my head, realizing that I’d walked right into his trap—another failure.

Grim Valor, the husband of Amethyst, stood behind me. I could only guess that he’d been lying in wait for me to make a move. His dark, empty energy consumed my magic the closer he drew. “Hello, Princess. It’s been a while.”

“Not quite long enough.”

Grim’s loafers screeched against the marble tile as he approached. The cold void of his energetic aura suffocated me. Every second left me feeling more barren. He leaned into my ear and murmured, “Nah. It’s been too long, little one. Too long.”

Ice froze my veins when his rancid breath forced its way from my ear down my neck. I peered at my father, who stood pompous with his arms crossing his chest.

I imagined Grim’s predatory gleam that hovered behind me. I could almost see the layer of grease that always burnished his long black hair, his beady eyes preying upon weakness, and his sharp nose hooking to a gruesome right as if permanently damaged. I never understood what Amethyst saw in him. Maybe it was his corrupted soul that mirrored her own.

“As I said, Gray. You were a mistake,” my father said as Grim’s poisonous fingers trailed down my arms.

I knew better than to shake him off so I didn’t flinch. “Like what you see, Grim? Amethyst must be holding out on you.”

Cold hands ensnared my wrists, pinning them behind my back. I struggled against them, but a dark chuckle sounded in my right ear. “We’ll see who holds out, Princess.”

“What is this, Father?” I demanded.

I thrashed in Grim’s hold. He yanked on my wrists, causing me to stumble in my struggle. Father leered at me. He believed he’d won.

I slipped an arm loose and bashed my elbow into Grim’s ribcage. The blow forced him to loosen his grip on my other wrist. Freed from his hold, I spun around and punched his pallid jaw. A grunt escaped him as he stumbled. Grabbing his wrist, I thrust my knee upward, nailing him between his thighs. He dropped to the carpet with a thud.

Hatred simmered in his dark eyes as he strained on the floor, cupping himself. “You fucking bitch!” he shouted, spit flying from his thin lips.

I went for a throat jab, but I was snatched backward by my hair. A knife quickly pushed against my throat. I froze. Pain radiated from my scalp. Each breath pressed my esophagus further into the blade, singeing me with a sharp sting, and sending a trail of blood sliding down my skin. A strong arm wrapped around me, binding me to a broad chest.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Well, that was rather fun,” Father taunted from behind. “Grim, get the cuffs.”

With a grunt, Grim straightened his back, running his fingers through greasy hair as he rose on wobbly legs. He retreated from the room with a limp, and I couldn’t stop the fleeting sense of pride that washed through me. I grinned despite the knife against my throat.

“You failed, Gray,” my father said. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I swallowed, my throat bobbing against the blade. “Well, I guess that was the ultimate disappointment.”

“Indeed.”

A silence overcame the suite, smothering the oxygen in the room.

Grim returned with the magnetic metal wrist cuffs moments later. He grumbled as he hobbled toward us, still aggravated by my assault.

“Hold out your hands,” the king instructed.

I rolled my eyes and offered Grim my wrists in annoyance. “Is this how you like your victims, Grim?” I sneered. “Bound and powerless?”

Grim’s nostrils flared. He backhanded my cheek with a resounding crack. My skull knocked into my father’s shoulder, furthering the blinding migraine from his previous attack. I snickered despite the searing pain. The injuries only seemed to fuel my fire.

“Is that all you got, Grim?” The metallic taste of blood coated my tongue. Gathering it all, I spat on his face. Blood and saliva oozed down his crooked nose, deep crimson splattering his cheeks and forehead, giving him an even more garish look.

The knife dug deeper into my throat. “Go ahead, Father,” I taunted. “Please, cut out the foreplay already and just kill me, for fuck’s sake.”

“But, Gray, you know how I do things. I like to take my time,” King Forest said in a soft, yet unsettling tone.

I snorted. “You’re only wasting valuable time that could be spent doing more important things. But be my guest.”

“You can’t trust others to do the dirty work for you,” he said, the thick metal cuffs locking into place. My magic snuffed out in my veins. “I have to do everything of importance myself. And this is very important to me, daughter.” With a shove to my back, the king walked to the door with Grim at his side. He guided me forward, my hands stiffly cuffed in front of me.

My gut sank as I realized where he planned to take me. The prison cells were utilized for more than retaining traitors, Elementals, or Endarkened. The king used them to torture his prisoners, and he always ensured he was present for those events.

The elevator jolted to a stop.

Grim, having swapped positions with my father behind me, shoved me forward while the king walked alongside me. We made our way through the underground level of the prison. Dim lighting barely lit our way, and shallow cracks slithered along the concrete floor from years of wear.

The moist, frigid air crept into my bones, chilling me to the marrow. The oxygen was thicker as I fought to maintain even breaths and slow my mind. It was difficult, given that I fought back gags from the horrendous stench of decomposition and bodily waste.

The prison was a sprawling myriad of interconnected cell blocks. As we approached, groans and growls drifted through the metal bars, making the hair on my skin prickle with unease.

Morbid curiosity got the best of me, so I stole a glimpse inside a cell. Obscured in the shadows, a woman stared at me with wide and distant eyes. Her long, oily hair sat matted to her skull in bald patches. The silver irises of an Elemental stared back at me. The gold layer of skin cracked and peeled away in large swathes, while the remaining layers paled a ghastly dull hue, depriving her of all vitality. I looked on in horror at the shadows that painted her gaunt features as she reached her frail arm through the space between the bars.

Then, in an act that stunned me, the Endarkened woman dropped onto one knee, her breaths raspy. She said nothing. But when she pressed her forehead against her knee, I faltered in my steps at the foreign custom.

Grim and my father strolled past her as if she weren’t there as they guided me past prisoners of different varieties. Most huddled against the wall, not acknowledging us as we passed.

We reached the end of the corridor, and a heavy metal door loomed above. My father typed in a code, followed by a jarring buzz that cut through the miserable silence. Like a death knell, a hard click echoed off the concrete.

Another hard shove to my back thrust me into the interrogation room, the cuffs digging into my wrists. I stumbled forward.

I needed to escape. Otherwise, I’d die in this dank dungeon. I couldn’t hand my father that victory.

I’d always had supreme vision, even amongst Kinetics. So, despite the void in the room, I saw their movements. I’d never disclosed this minor fact to the king, and I was currently grateful for that decision.

“Grim, I need some light. Back off some,” the king said as Grim’s magic absorbed any illumination in the room. They believed it gave them an advantage.

But if I allowed them to have light, it would destroy any hope of getting out alive. I didn’t plan to stick around in their chamber of horrors.

Taking advantage of the brief upper hand, I threw an elbow into Grim’s nose with all my strength. My wrists were still cuffed, but I wouldn’t let that stop me from fighting. My father heard the impact and lunged for me. I saw his silhouette and stepped aside. He collided with Grim, who fell to the putrid floor. Enraged, the king spun around to face the spot I’d previously stood, but I’d moved behind him.

With him unaware of my position, I silently snagged the knife my father held to my throat. With my wrists bound, I slashed it across the nape of his neck, then plunged it deep into his lower back. I missed his spinal cord, but still, the king crumpled to his knees.

“You defiant fucking bitch,” Forest ground out.

I couldn’t linger long enough for the king to heal. Taking hasty steps toward the door, something grabbed my ankle. I lurched forward, slapping my palms on the cold floor. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I said in a growl, slamming my heel into Grim’s temple.

I scrambled to my feet, ignoring the bruising on my knees and the stinging in my palms. I struggled to reach the door within my view.

“No.” The king’s labored voice reached my ears from within the darkness, still hindered by the stab wound. “Not you, too.”

His words almost stopped me in my tracks.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again, Father,” I spat, keeping it short and sweet.

At last, I reached the door and punched in the code, silently thanking Cotton for thinking ahead when he had written it down for me to memorize in the event things went wrong—which they had. I yanked it open.

I winced. The dim light in the corridor blinded me as my eyes adjusted from the emptiness of the interrogation room.

But then I ran.

I sprinted past the cells that detained decaying prisoners and ignored their pleas for freedom.

The elevator loomed ahead, so I pushed my body to its brink to reach it. I didn’t look behind me, fearing Grim or my father were on my heels. The cuffs needed to be removed as soon as possible.

If I could get to Cotton…

I pounded the elevator button in violent desperation, wishing I could coerce the defective box to move at the speed I needed it to. I bounced on the soles of my bare feet while I waited, still wearing the gold dress from the revel.

The heavy door boomed at the end of the corridor. Startled, I jerked my head to glance over my shoulder. My heart lurched to my throat at the sight of Grim sprinting toward me with blood flowing from his nose, painting his throat.

There were only five more floors before the elevator reached me. I tightened my grip on the knife’s hilt and spun to face Grim. I couldn’t allow him to catch me by surprise again.

He continued to close the distance. Although my wrists were bound in front of me, I fell into a defensive stance,

The elevator dinged—the biggest fucking mercy I’d received since the moment I confronted Griffin Silas. I backed myself into the metal box, focused on the racing Grim. My heart hammered in my chest as I watched him draw closer.

The elevator doors inched shut with a metallic clang. I slapped the button for one floor above, to the basement where I was to meet Scarlett.

I let air fill my lungs and dropped my head against the elevator wall during the brief ride to the training room. The king hadn’t had time to alert the guards, so I’d be free to grab the needed supplies. With my magic inhibited, I wasn’t able to signal Scarlett, Cotton, and Hazel that my task was done.

I hoped to find them and get what I needed to flee. And if not, then I’d do what I did best: go at it alone.