Fallen Princess by Alexa B. James

Author:Alexa B. James [James, Alexa B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 49704857
Publisher: Speak Now
Published: 2021-02-10T06:00:00+00:00

Eleven

When the other prisoners had been there, the plotting to get out had occupied our time, and their stories had kept my mind from wandering back to what I’d lost. Without them, I had no distraction from the pain. It was as if I’d held it at bay, dammed up behind a wall of determination and anger over what Camila had done. During my father’s visit, I’d opened the dam, let myself admit and acknowledge what I’d lost. For days afterwards, I was lost in the flood. The grief tore me apart from the inside out, until I was sure I’d die of the pain.

I’d always prided myself on being at least mentally strong, had prided myself on holding back tears and keeping it together when I needed to. Now, I sobbed like a baby, like the cub that had been torn from inside me. I could feel the hollow more than ever. It wasn’t an emptiness left by the cheetah. It had always been there. I’d just never known, had never felt it for what it was until the cheetah filled it and then left it empty.

I curled in on myself on the dirt floor, sobs wracking my body, trying to block the sound of my screams with the iron cones that covered my hands. I called to Lilith, to my mother, but all was silent except the echoes of my sadness. My magic was what called to her, after all, and it was blocked inside the metal cuffs.

The guards came twice each day to bring food, but they no longer taunted me. They wouldn’t look at me or speak to me. I had no companion but my loss, no solace but my tears.

I stopped trying after a while, unresponsive when they arrived and departed each day. And then one day they didn’t leave. I was sitting on the floor of the dirt cell, staring through the tangle of greasy hair that fell over my face. I saw their shiny, polished boots, the ones that had steel toes hidden inside so they could deliver the most painful blows when they beat men in the street.

“To die for what is right is the highest honor a man can achieve.”

I hadn’t heard a voice besides my own in so long it took a moment to register. And then I wondered if I’d imagined it, if the voice had been in my head. I jerked my chin up and found myself staring into the marble face of Camila’s guard.

Something inside me snapped. I shot to my feet, diving at the bars. I thrust my hands at them, wanting to reach through and touch him, only to be stopped by the chain between my wrists.

Die with honor? Fuck that. I had no honor. My father was right. I was weak and broken. I didn’t give a shit about pride or honor or dignity.

“Gabor,” I cried. “Take these things off me. Please. I know you have the key. You put them on me. Please take them off.

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