Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I wrenched away but he grabbed a handful of my hair and whispered, “Until tonight, Henri. I suggest you get some rest. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter Six
………………………….
Ily
I SPENT THE DAY STARING OUT the window.
I’d traded company in the dark for aloneness in the light, and the only thing keeping me sane was the sunshine. It became my only friend as it crept across the horizon, casting shadows on the animal-shaped hedges below, illuminating Masters tormenting their jewels in the garden.
From my height in the castle, I spied new jewels and old. I witnessed poor Mollie being raped by Roland by the fountain. His pudgy mass crushed hers into the granite of the water feature, his hand on the back of her head pushing her underwater with every thrust.
I spied a few new jewels being electrocuted for not obeying their Master’s whims fast enough, and Kirk refusing to do a damn thing his current ruler requested. No matter how hard the bastard beat him, the jewel who’d watched Suri—the girl he was in love with—shot to death during Emerald Bruises just took it.
He looked as if he wanted to die. As if he gave the Master permission to end him with every strike.
Peter had warned us that Kirk had given up.
It looked as if he was right.
Tears rolled silently down my cheeks as afternoon turned to dusk, and the fairy lights flickered on in the flowers. The battlement walls lit up with purple, gold, and blue spotlights. The pond-shaped swimming pool where Henri liked to write gleamed with the final shards of orange and red from the sun before night fell completely.
And still no one came for me.
I’d tried to leave.
I’d tried banging on the walls in case Henri or Peter could hear me.
But locks and guards and heavy stone bricks kept me trapped.
Rubbing my empty, snarling stomach, I hunched where I sat on the window seat. I’d wrapped myself up in the white blanket from the bed, warm for the first time in weeks, but the constant gnawing in my middle wouldn’t leave me alone.
Judging by how insistently my body demanded food, it’d been over twenty-four hours since our last rations. And our rations could hardly be called food. Our diet in the dungeon had consisted of stale bread, tough meat, and a few overly cooked vegetables if we were lucky.
No matter how incredible the hot shower had been or the full hour I’d spent sitting beneath its warm rain, I would’ve traded that luxury for a decent meal.
Dirt and filth robbed every drop of self-worth, but hunger? God, that had the capacity to steal every ounce of willpower. If Victor starved us for much longer, I truly didn’t know how far we’d go or what we’d put up with if it promised an end to the pain in our bellies.
Strings of soft music wriggled their way through the windowpanes as stars pricked the velvet sky above. The sounds of masculine laughter down in the gardens as men gathered on the deck and smoked and drank hinted May and the cooks in the kitchen would be hard at work making dinner for everyone. Faiza and her cleaners would’ve had a busy day tending to the many chambers, and the gardeners, handymen, and other staff would’ve endured yet another day of no freedom.
I sighed and rested my head on the cool glass.
Five months ago, I’d arrived with such naïve beliefs that I could free the poor men and women imprisoned here. I clung with such conviction to the power of right over wrong.
Yet sitting there in silence, a little whisper in my weary heart said perhaps this tale didn’t have a happy ending after all. Maybe we would never get free. Perhaps Victor would break Henri, which, in turn, would break me. We’d both die a painful death, and Peter and the jewels would remain forever trapped.
They’d go on serving until they ended up on the altar and their pieces sold to the highest bidder. No one would know that this island or these monsters existed. The world would continue spinning. People would continue bickering and moaning, catching public transport, and snuggling on the couch after work. All while hell existed for those unlucky enough to have been trafficked into it.
Stop.
Just…stop.
These thoughts aren’t helping.
You will get out.
Don’t lose hope…not yet.
Peter’s voice echoed in my ears from when I’d watched the guards strap Henri onto the altar in the Temple of Facets.
“Not yet, jaanu…not yet.”
I still didn’t know what he meant or when not yet would be.
But…not yet.
I wouldn’t give up.
Not yet.
A particularly bright star glimmered above, twinkling in its freedom. It looked like one of the stars I regularly visited in my meditations.
I found comfort in its brightness.
A tiny pinprick of light in a cloak of black.