^^My baby's back!! xD^^

"So verily, with every difficulty there is relief."

Chapter 66

To the Dungeon

River's POV

The world was painted in black and grays. My mind was hazy, disconnected as I hovered between space and reality. Shapes and figures stood above me as harsh voices spat at me through the haze and fog. It all felt so dream-like. I was there, watching the story unfold yet not truly experiencing it.

A high-pitched wine filled my mind, shook my very core as pain registered in my mind. Yet from where, I did not know. I was a masked captive in a dark world, riddled with anxiety.

"No."

A pitched, melodious voice rung through my darkened cell. A spark ignited. The familiar voice registered in my mind.

Luna. Luna, is that you?

Yet, no reply.

Then, suddenly, a face pulled through the grime. His face contorted, pulled back in absolute horror. Lines marred his face, signs of age against his whitening skin. White stubble marked his chin and upper lip that had now turned to sneer.

His Highness.

His hand reached up to the sky and with it came a stampede of men coated in metal. Their armor moved with a series of harsh clinks, feet stomping against withered flowers and mauled grass as they moved in great haste in my direction.

And like that, the haze cleared. The fear shaking my body had completely startled me awake. My fingers coiled around the soft grass, nails finding sanction digging into the cold dirt. My knuckles squeezed tight. Though against my paling skin, the white could barely be seen. Rather it blended right into my now ghostly form.

My breaths came out in shattered gasps. And only when one man kicked over a golden pail in his hurried movements did I begin to recognize the return of color.

My eyes had not withdrawn from the large, moving armor towards me until that very moment and in the millisecond it took me to eye the fallen pail, it was the last before my gaze pulled back only to find the large figures above me.

My heart stopped.

My breath lodged in my throat, choking me. And just as I wheezed a single breath, multiple arms reached me. A whimpered cry escaped my throat as I shoved to the ground, my head connecting once again against hard rock and pointed stone.

Black stars twinkled momentarily against my vision, spotting the already gruesome scene. Multiple armored hands wrapped around my arms, pulling me from the ground forcefully.

My heart beated in my ears, the gruff voices of the men above me overshadowed by my pulsing chest. The garden grew farther and farther away as I was dragged backward, away from my haven, away from Alastair's room.

Away.

As I was pulled around a pillar, my throat tightening as my eyes locked on a familiar caged door, a gust of wind brushed past my grimy hair, pulling my attention to the garden for just one last look. And as my eyes locked on His Highness standing beside the fountain with a crooked smirk lining his euphoric, upturned face, horror swept through me.

He had planned this. He wanted this.

No man can watch another pulled through such atrocity, such cruelty with a pleased smile. No, that was but the face one shows his enemy by his downfall.

And down, I was surely falling.

☽

I was shoved into a dark, clammy cell. My feet pressed against the cold rock as I took to the bed swinging from a thick pair of chains across the cell. Though, within moments of sitting on it, I become well aware that it was less bed and more rock, like the ground I had just fallen on.

My feet pulsed, unused to walking barefooted on such hard, pointed surfaces after nearly a year of Alastair's sweet pampering. My ghostly white skin was now spotted in dirt from my harsh falling in the garden. Mud painted my once cream-colored wear and I began to crave a warm bath. Though, such a hope was ridiculous for me to even think.

I shook my head at my own foolishness.

I pulled my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knees as I gazed around the small cell. The flooring was caked in dirt. The walls were splotched in a gruesome red array that I immediately took to convincing myself to be from a freak accident of an explosive raspberry pastry. For at that moment, denial seemed to be a well-needed acquaintance. My nerves knotted in my chest only to soften once my eyes landed on a small window, barred and out of reach. Yet there, nonetheless.

At least, even in this suffocating cell, there would be a small ray of sunlight brightening up the dirt and grime. Surely, that was pleasant enough a thought.

A few hours passed before a harsh ringing passed through the cell as a large man banged a wooden stick against the cell bars, startling me from my dream-like state. For at that very moment, that was all it truly felt like.

A dream. A horrible dream.

One in which I waited every passing minute to wake up from. Since the hours passed in the tight cell, I hadn't cried. An action I'd grown accustomed to in times of fear or pain. However, reality hadn't truly set in yet. Denial was my coping mechanism for if I thought of my reality, locked behind rusty bars, alone and broken. For I would shatter.

The man clinked his wooden stick once again. His face pulled to that of annoyance as his brows pinched and gaze hardened on my small form.

To think, I was once on that side of the cell, peering in at the frightened creature it contained. Except now, I was that frightened creature, crawled into a ball on a stone matrice. Alone, yet cut off from the reality that seemed far too gloomy to recognize as my own.

"Take your meal or sleep with an empty stomach tonight," the man grumbled out.

My eyes dropped to his hands, only now realizing the small tray in his other hand, pressing against the dirty bars of my cell. I lifted myself from the bed with a slight hiss as pain ran down my spine and moved slowly to the bars where he had shoved the small tray through a small metal flap, locking it the moment I grew close enough. The man watched me through a tightened gaze before clicking his tongue and walking away.

I watched his back turn away before peering down at the tray. It was a small, square tin containing a small loaf of bread and a bowl of water. I wondered briefly how kind they must be to those jailed, to give a whole loaf of bread rather than the stale slice I had grown accustomed to during my time in slavery. Though perhaps it was my status that brought upon such kindness.

"Let me see him!" A sudden voice growled, his voice bouncing off the metal of the jailhouse and ringing through my ears.

I immediately recognized the voice and sprang from my place on the cold, dirty floor. In my haste, the tray fell to the floor, the loaf tumbling and rolling to the cell door as my feet rushed forward.
My hands wrapped around the rusty bars, face pressed against the cold metal and it was then that I saw him. His muscles were pulled tight, hazel eyes burning with anger as he fought the guards blocking the entrance to the jailhouse.

Through the crack of the bars, I could see him yet he could not see me. His eyes grew wild with every passing moment and the men began to grow rigid in fear.

"I command you all to step aside," his harsh, commanding voice rang, "in the name of your king."

To that, the guards' eyes widened, faces paling as Alastair so much as shook in anger. Immediately their feet moved of their own accord, bodies splitting to the side as they made way for their furious king. Alastair marched in, the sound of his harsh footsteps ringings through every cell as his eyes roamed, searching for me as a vein ticked in his jaw.

"A-Alastair," I whimpered out, stumbling over my own words as emotions welled deep in my very lungs.

His head whipped to the side and the moment his eyes locked on mine, his harsh stomps shifted to a desperate sprint. His hands immediately wrapped around my smaller pair, latched around the cell bars.

"What happened? What did you do, Luna?" He rushed out. When his eyes roamed my dirt-caked form, his face reddened in anger, "what did they do to you?" he growled.

My breath came out sharp, voice cracking as tears began to well in my eyes, "I-I do not know."

And like that, the tears fell.

Alastair froze, eyes widening as his eyes searched mine.

"That voice," was all he managed before his hands reached for my face, hands shaking as his thumbs brushed against my tear-stained cheeks.

A shaken breath broke past his lips, "is that you, River?"

I could barely speak. The tears grew far too heavy, my vision turning far too hazy. All I could manage was a single nod and that seemed to be all Alastair needed before he pulled my face closer and his lips came crashing against mine. Tears mingled with tears, lips brushed hastily against one another as the taste of cinnamon and musk filled my very senses, engulfing me in a scent I had missed for far too long.

It felt like mere seconds before we had to pull away, the harsh pressing of cold metal against our faces becoming far too uncomfortable no matter how desperately we wished to touch one another.

Alastair's head pivoted to the nearest guard, demanding the cell be unlocked immediately. He left no room for an unwelcome reply as his eyes burned and lips pressed to a threatening line. The frightened man hurried forward, nearly missing the keyhole twice as Alastair's sharp gaze pressed heavily against him.

Finally, he opened the cell and took to scurrying as far as he could. Alastair took not a single moment to waste as he rushed through the small space and pulled me into his arms.

A wave of relief washed over both of us, calming us both from a mere embrace. My head rested against his muscular chest, a relieved breath whisking past my lips as Alastair rained multiple kissed against the crown of my head. His lips traveled down my cheeks and not before long, we were once again locked in a passionate kiss.

There was no lust found as our lips brushed gently against one another. It was not a kiss found in bed but rather one found in the entwining of fear. It was a kiss of reassurance, proving our existence to one another as we clung to each other as if the other could disappear in mere moments.

My fingers roamed the tight muscles of his back, nails massaging gently along his heated skin as our tears mixed, lips melted together like two wicks merging into one single flame.

We clung desperately to one another. No words were spoken. Yet the soft gasps of our mingled breaths, our roaming fingers against shaking skin, was all the talking either of us needed. /our touches were soft and careful, a rememorization of a body we both had long since touched.

Alastair's lips slowly pulled from mine. My breath caught in soft, little pants as my eyes fell to his lips, feeling the withdrawal far too soon.

Come back. I nearly cried out.

His fingers brushed lightly against my face, his eyes softening as my hands reached up to do the same.

His mouth opened, breath tight as he spoke, "I missed you."

And like that, the tight ball in my throat burst. My lips trembled as a choked sob escaped my throat. Alastair pulled me into his lap and pressed his lips to the top of my head. My hands cupped around my mouth as I fell apart in his arms.

To think, all the pain and cruelty I faced today couldn't break me but those three sweet words from my mate had me shaking and crying like a newborn.

His hands rubbed calming circles on my back as he whispered soft words of love into my ears. My nose pressed against his chest, my eyes pulled tightly shut as I shook in tears. Suddenly, everything came back to me. The pain, the blood, the shifting. Reality crashed down on me, crumbling me to broken shards. In the heat of absolute horror and pain, Luna's instincts kicked in. His real form had broken through and he had shifted right in front of His Highness' fear-blown eyes.

Though, I couldn't shake the last image I had of the old, devilish man. Th joy that had painted his crooked smirk as he watched me being dragged backward to the jailhouse.

Why?

Suddenly, that single word halted my tears in place. Grief suddenly replaced with anger.

He had never liked me. Since the day Alastair had brought me back to the palace, he had wanted me gone. Now, with my shifting, he was going to get exactly what he wanted. I was going to be gone, out of his life.

Forever.

My face pulled from Alastair's chest. My pulse was pounding, mind racing.

Alastair brushed my hair from my face, his face bending slightly to search my eyes, "what happened, River? Why were you brought here?"

My eyes lifted from his chest, a shallow breath struggling from my throat as my eyes locked on his nervous pair.

"To be killed."