Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 25

The bright orange lights and thrum of voices and music engulf us as we file back into the ballroom. Hundreds of heads turn our way. The envy and the wonder crackles around us. I grab a goblet of sparkling wine, draining the entire glass and Ruben stifles a laugh, red flushing his cheeks.

"It isn't so bad in here, is it?" he asks, taking the goblet and handing it to the closest servant.

I roll my eyes. "Aren't you meant to ask me to dance?"

An amused smirk tugs at his lips and he holds out his hand. "Will you do me the pleasure of a dance?"

"I would be delighted," I say, feigning a sweet voice and smiling.

The King raises his brows at me, taking a sip from a goblet. He lounges on his throne, watching us like we are all prey, ready for his claws to sink into.

"You are still signing your allegiance to the Tranquillity tomorrow, right?" Ruben says, voice a low husk as we step and twirl around the room. His hand on my waist burns and my pulse thunders in my skull.

"I cannot wait," I say loud enough for those around me to hear. "To complete my initiation and officially join my comrades. Although, I understand my training will continue."

"Yes. More knife-throwing lessons with yours truly." He lets out a feigned chuckle, tossing a pleasant smile to a staring Concave man. "I know you cannot wait."

"As long as it's more time with you," I say, earning a glare from a young lady next to us.

I draw closer, leaning my head on his shoulder as we spin slowly on the spot. He smells of the forest and oranges. Sweet and earthy.

Someone clears their throat and I lift my head. King Talin smiles at me, but his eyes glint with malice. "Pardon me for interrupting the betrothed, but may I have a word with you, Elle?" A vein tremors in his throat, and I grimace.

"Of course, your grace," I say, offering a tight-lipped smile.

Ruben squeezes my hand before letting me go. I toss him a reassuring nod over my shoulder as I follow the king. He leads me through the crowd, ignoring those throwing themselves at him, or trying to speak to him. We step out of the ballroom, and he leads me into a hallway.

"What do you have to say that cannot be discussed inside?" My voice is taut with disdain as I curl my lips into a grimace.

We pause in a hallway adorned with an enormous portrait of the king's father. Those cold, hateful eyes roaming my soul. The king towers over me, puffing his chest and angling his head but not enough for his crown to fall. "I hope you and my son are getting to know one another better. After all, the wedding is in the spring."

I swallow, letting out a short breath. "He enjoys getting under my skin."

He presses his lips together. "I am sure you are looking forward to your signing tomorrow."

I open my mouth to respond when a gloved leather hand clamps over my mouth. A pungent, floral scent hits my nose, and the powder in the person's palm coats my lips. My mind grows cloudy, and my muscles loosen. Oblivion beckons me with warm arms, whispering my name, coaxing me into it. I cannot fight it. It grasps my blood and bones, dragging me into the darkness. I wonder if I am the darkness.

A rotten smell permeates my nose. I pry my stinging eyes open, coughing at the dryness in my throat. My head aches as I sit up and glance around. I am surrounded by stone and cast iron and the dull echo of my pulse. Phantom claws tighten around my throat, and I splutter, the air leaving my body as I realised that I am trapped. Yet, as I glance around, this appears to be a different set of dungeons from the ones I was in when they first arrested me.