Wicked Chase

♚ Chapter Twenty-Two

Josiah shrugged, lifting his hands up in the process and the clanking of the iron chains echoed within the walls of the cell that he had been locked behind. Alastair had informed me that almost everything in the prison was made out of iron because where iron was present, magic was not. "You cannot deny that it was fun, can you, my lady?" he grinned, his dark eyes glinting with malice that in my dazed state I had often confused with mischievousness.

I wrenched my gaze away from Josiah and looked at Alastair. "Open this cell," I demanded, anger evident in my voice.

"Genevieve, that's-"

"He can't use magic. He can't hurt me. Now open the damned cell, Alastair!" I shouted, the anger now pumping wildly within my system. Reluctantly, Alastair signalled a guard who stood his post by the edge of Josiah's cell and the guard nodded before he walked towards the cell door and slotted the key into the hole, opening it with a loud click before stepping away and returning back to his post.

I didn't waste anymore time and made my way into the cell and when I came towards Josiah who was on his knees, looking up at me with a victorious smirk on his face, I grabbed him by the front of his thin shirt and spat, "why did you do this? Why this cover? Why this façade?"

His smirk grew wider and I could practically see the evil in his eyes. "You know why, my lady. Or do you just want to confirm your suspicions?"

Unsatisfied with his reply I grounded the back of my heel into his foot, putting at much pressure as I could before putting my arm underneath his neck and pressing his head backwards. He screamed with pain. "I asked you a question, Josiah," I hissed menacingly, "I advise you to answer it."

He breathed heavily before he said, his voice gruff, "I always liked my women feisty."

The anger erupted with me all at once and I was unable to hold it any longer. The sound of the harsh punch across his face resonated within the cell walls before being I processed what I had just done.

The side of his lip was split and the dark blood oozed out of the small cut. Josiah disgustingly ran his long, lizard-like tongue over the edge of his lips and got rid of the blood, and I had to hold myself from shuddering as a chill creeped its way down my spine at Josiah's simple but revolting action. "I did all of this to kill you," he grinned maliciously.

"Bullshit!" I exclaimed. "Thorin wants me alive for some whacked up reason and I doubt he'd want you to kill me."

"Ouch," he said, contorting his face in fake offence. Then looking past my shoulder, he said much louder, "it must be hard for you to guard this bitch, Alastair Ignacio."

I sent him barrelling backwards with a single punch and I ignored the pain that shot up my arm and the bruises that I was certain will form on my fists before stepping forward and placing my legs on either side of his chest, bringing myself down and straddling him by his chest as I took a fistful of his shirt into my hands and brought his face up to mine. "Why didn't you just kidnap me? Why take me under the pretense of being in love with you and the opportunity to kill Thorin?"

"There's no fun in that."

"What happened to Philip Rowstring?" I asked, violently shaking him like if I shook him hard enough the answers would fall out of him.

"Well," he grinned, malice twinkling in his dark eyes, "there couldn't be two Philip Rowstring's now, could they?"

"You killed him." It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement but the shock that laced through my voice as I said those words made it sound like a question.

"And I enjoyed every bit of it," he sneered.

I punched him, my fist connecting with his jaw. I punched him again, my fist connecting with the side of his face and delivered my last punch with as much effort and strength that I could muster. "You're a bastard," I declared, my voice raspy.