A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(15)

One: Cobwebs. I spied cobwebs and mold atop the low ceiling of my cell. It smelled like mildew and damp, trapped air.

I sucked in a lungful of it.

Two: Lanterns. A few weak, flickering lanterns hung outside my cell. I couldn’t feel the warmth of the flames, but the dim shafts of light cast shadows on the murky, wet floor.

Three… I looked around my small space and saw two buckets, one empty and one filled with water. Three: Buckets. I doubted either were clean, but I scrambled up and splashed my face. The freezing cold water knocked the wind out of me, but the shock helped my system. I sat back on my heels and breathed a little easier.

“Bleeding Stones.” I put my head between my knees.

“Quite the mouth on you.”

A voice, at once like thunder and a caress, purred through the iron bars beside me.

I whipped my head up. In my terror upon being thrown into the cell, I hadn’t realized there was another prisoner in the one directly next to me; we were only separated by rusty metal beams.

I flushed. I’d had an audience for the most horrifically unpleasant moment of my life. And based on the continued cries of the person being tortured in some other wing of this dungeon, it was likely one of the last few.

“Sorry,” I mumbled.

“It’s just…a little dramatic, don’t you think?” the dark voice said.

My skin bristled.

I squinted through the flickering shadows, but couldn’t see more than the outline of a figure slumped against a wall.

“I said I was sorry, what more do you want?” I was still trying to catch my rushed breaths.

Immediately I regretted my harsh tone. I couldn’t make an enemy of the man I’d be trapped next to for who knew how long. He was probably a thief. Or a murderer.

Or something far, far worse.

But the prisoner only chuckled, the sound like the rumble of rocks down a mountain, reverberating in my chest.

“Some peace and quiet from your weeping would be nice.”

As expected, but still—what a prick.

This time I didn’t bother hiding my glare. I didn’t know if he could even see me in the darkness.

“I’m done now,” I admitted, drawing in a long breath. “It’s not every day you get imprisoned. Or… maybe it is for you, but—not for me.”

Please leave me alone, please leave me alone.

“I’m just saying, some of us are trying to get some sleep around here. Your theatrics and heaving bosom aren’t going to change your situation.” He paused. “Though the latter is nice to look at.”

My stomach turned at his words.

Did I say prick? I meant bastard. Vile bastard.

I had no reason to fight with him, and I shouldn’t anger him—I had better survival instincts than that. But I had been through too much tonight.

I didn’t have a single straw left in me.

“You’re disgusting,” I breathed.

“Someone’s feeling brave with these bars between us.”

“Not really,” I admitted. “Just honest.”

The conversation was a strange yet welcome distraction to my anxiety. Being alone with my thoughts sounded worse than almost anything.

The tortured man’s wails had finally turned to whimpers. I hoped for his sake he might pass out soon. Now I only heard rustling as I watched the figure in the cell beside me stand up and stretch.

His shadow alone was imposing—at least a foot and some change taller than me, but the dim light hid the rest of his features. He stalked toward the bars that separated us. I fought the instinct to scramble backward and away from him, reminding myself that he couldn’t reach me in here. I had to have some kind of backbone. Especially if this was to be my future.

“Are you trying to scare me?” I was aiming for bold, but it came out low and quiet.

“Something like that,” he whispered through the bars. My heart leapt into my throat at his words, his voice soft and yet so deadly my toes curled in fear. I still couldn’t make out his face amongst the shadows, but I could see his sharp, white teeth glinting above me in the lantern’s buttery light.

“Well, you don’t. Scare me, that is.”

He laughed, but it felt cruel. “Such a brave bird. Good to hear. Perhaps now I can sleep.”

What?

But…my thoughts were now flowing in a calm, even rhythm, compared to the frenetic mess they had been before.

My panic had subsided.

I took a soothing, lungful of damp, dungeon air, and turned my eyes up to the prisoner bathed in shadow beside me.

Had he known what he was doing when he was goading me? Definitely not, but the distraction had kept me from falling apart completely.

Still, I couldn’t help glaring at him. “Your cruelty is a bit cliché.”

He heaved a sigh that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and crouched down. Finally, the lantern outside his cell illuminated his face.

At first, all I could see were his eyes. Piercing, slate gray, and so bright they were silver. They simmered under thick, prominent brows and obscenely long lashes. His dark hair had fallen casually across his forehead, and he coolly brushed it out of his face with a strong, broad hand. Perfect chiseled jaw. Full lips. It was indecent, frankly, how gorgeous he was.

Gorgeous, indecent, and deadly.

A chill ran through my entire body.