The Luna Cure

THIRTY-SIX

I shuddered, thinking about Dante visiting her all this time. I had no clue, but it wasn't surprising.

"He gets very angry with me. All wolfy. Filthy creatures, wolves are." She sighed. "Too bad you lost yours. Maybe then you'd have a chance, you know? It's truly pitiful."

I bit my lip, trying not to blow up on her. Not now, when I was completely confused as to how I got back down here. I had no escape. Once again, she had me at her mercy.

"Your mate, he's actually quite scary when he needs to be. Do you ever see his scary side?"

I didn't utter a word. She liked to play games, torturous games. She'd ask questions, and at any response, she'd inflict the evils of dark magic. But other times, when I finally learned my lesson and didn't answer up, she'd punish me just as harshly. It wasn't a regular occurrence, but it was often enough for me to recognize when she was playing one of her games.

Of course, my time with Batilda was spent mute, unlike the other girls. My only possible responses were physical. Head shake, or nod. Batilda knew I couldn't answer like the other girls, and that only led to more punishments.

Her hand came down, fisting my hair roughly, and she pulled my head back. My scalp burned, and I whimpered.

"I asked a question." Her black eyes were ablaze with anger, and that malicious snarl I knew too well decorated her face.

"No." My response was swift.

She let go of my hair rather roughly, making my head snap back slightly. I didn't move.

"Why do you think he isn't ever like that with you? You defy him enough to earn it."

My gut told me to answer her. "I don't know."

She came closer, her face inches from mine. She spoke slow. "Do you think he cares about you?" Her eyes bore into mine, and I felt sick to my stomach.

I gulped silently. "I don't know."

She narrowed her eyes. "I would be careful with how you answer that one, Florence. But I'll give you a second chance to give me the right response."

I would never be okay. If Dante and I ever survived her, I would still always be terrified and haunted.

I felt my eyes fill up with hot tears. "Yes."

The most deadly error one could make with Batilda was lying, and I knew that fact far too well.

She grinned brightly, her yellowed, decaying teeth flashing. "Good, dearie." Her eyes glanced up behind me.

"I'm glad you won't be visiting your home. That leaves you more time with the prince. And less will to live." She cackled again, and I shut my eyes. This was more than a nightmare, because it was so real. It was all of my terrors and fears in reality, and I couldn't handle it.

I heard her return to her place on the couch, the cushions letting out a squeak. "It seems that I've run out of time, dearie. Do make sure to get the prince to fall in love with you. That will help me immensely."

And with that, I shot up in bed, gasping for air. My hands went to my chest, feeling my racing heartbeat. I was back in the hotel room, and it was darker than when I had fallen asleep. But I was suffocating, my lungs collapsing. I couldn't breathe.

Scrambling out of bed and almost immediately collapsing, I ran over to the balcony doors and pulled at the handle. It didn't budge, and that's when I broke into sobs. Batilda. It was so real. And so terrifying.

I yanked at the door again, and it didn't budge. My eyes found the little switch next to the silver handle, and I flipped it, unlocking it. The door slid open quick the next time I yanked, and I stumbled to the balcony, leaning against it on my forearms. The cold outside air bit at me, as snowflakes landed all over, but I didn't care. I didn't even care that my feet would freeze in a few minutes, from the balcony floor being covered in brisk snow.