Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 16: The Dungeon

I can see how much paler I look, how much more pronounced my knees and joints are. I look like I've been in the hospital for a month, not a day.

And the Prince is right there. I fold my shoulders in. I wish I could disappear.

The Prince silently walks us forward and down a few hallways before slowing to a halt.

I gulp as I take in the cold steel in front of me. Dad, just behind there?

A small panel of glass allows me to peek through and see inside. In order to reach it, I stand up from my chair. My legs shake, but that's only from lack of use. One of my legs is splinted, so I have to drag it haphazardly forward, pretending not to notice the spasm of pain in my hip. I hear the Prince grit his teeth as I move forward and take in the view.

My dad looks hollow. He sits on the edge of the thin metal bed built into the wall, staring absently at the air. A chain, thick and black, connects both of his hands to the far wall. Based on the redness around his wrists, he doesn't want them there very badly. A sort of removed glaze clouds his eyes, like he is imagining himself at his office. His suit is definitely not picture perfect, with several tears across the sleeves and dirt patterned across it.

But his face, goddess. Purple lumps comprise half of his expression. Bandages that are stained with blood are haphazardly slapped on wounds across his cranium, but his nose, crooked and swollen, is still raised tall in the air. I attempt to imagine what it would be like before his accelerated healing began and feel slightly sick.

"He can't see me?"

The Prince shakes his head. His body is tense with restraint.

"He's lucky to be alive. I was going to kill him," he tells me with calm resolve.

My heart speeds up in my chest.

"Why didn't you?" I breathe.

"I didn't know if you wanted me to."

I look again over Dad's hunched body. Something blooms in my rib cage.

Calm. The ease of a heavy weight lifting from my shoulders.

"Thank you," I reply through a shaking breath.

He can't reach me. I couldn't allow myself to believe it before. But there he is, defeated.

This isn't a dream.

This changes everything.

I have to swallow a lump in my throat. The emotion swells over my body and makes it hard to breathe.

"Thank you," I repeat in a stupor. For a moment, I don't think about how disgusted the Prince must be with me, or how little I ever wanted a mate. My body sags in exhaustion, and I allow myself to lean into the Prince's side so my arm erupts in the pleasant tingling. It makes me think of just a few nights ago, when I found out Elia is dead and went to the Prince like autopilot. I think of the way his arms wrapped around me. I also think of the books and articles I found on his desk, all about mate abandonment. I think about how he couldn't believe that I was there - he thought I was a dream.

I want to say "I'm sorry." But mostly, I want it to mean anything. 'Sorry' doesn't exactly cut it right now.

"Ashlee," a wheezing voice calls dreamily.

The Prince huffs an enraged breath. My heart starts in my chest. I flash my eyes back to Dad. His face, previously somber, now has a shaky smile on it. Instinctively, I shuffle backwards.

"He repeats that every so often," the Prince grinds out through tight teeth, "your given name, I gather?"

"Yes."

I don't like that. I don't like that at all. I would really prefer it if my incarcerated father wouldn't do that.

"Ashlee," Dad repeats in a sing-song voice. A moment passes before his eyes leap up to the window - to - to mine, his dark grey eyes staring directly at me.

"I know you're there," he breathes.

I stagger backwards.

My vision suddenly blurs.

I blink, and I'm not looking at the cell anymore, but a warm back clad in a black t-shirt.

Shoulders tight, head lowered. Defense position. Snarls echo in his lungs as Prince Orion presses his back to me. One of his hands is holding my arm, like he's making sure I'm still there.

I can see Dad smile.

The door clangs loudly as the Prince slams a fist against it and I jump back slightly. In the next moment, I'm wrapped in a forceful but not painful hold and the hallway is racing past my vision. It happens too quickly for me to understand until we pause at the top of the staircase.

"Your Highness," I begin, but the Prince ignores my comment, and when I see the silvery light in his eyes I cinch my mouth closed.

The Prince carries me all the way back to the hospital room, traveling the distance in under a minute. Even up stairs and through more remote passageways that were basically abandoned, he moves so quickly that I can't take in our surroundings.

The next time he slows enough for me to think, he is placing me on the edge of my hospital bed. With wild movements, he pulls me into an embrace, burying his face against my neck.

"Please," he breathes into my shoulder, "never go and see him again."

I'm frozen.

He's touching me. His skin causes something warm and gently to roll over my entire body, like the stars from sparklers kissing my nerves. And it feels - nice. Safe.

Dizziness washes over me. My skin touching his. Dirty, filthy skin, pressing against his, his coppery and beautiful skin, and I must look so pale and jaundiced and deathly next to him. He is whole. I am -

Broken. Goddess.

My hands itch to touch him. I want to hold him, but what if I get myself on him? It would be spoiling a masterpiece.

I bite into my lip so hard it starts bleeding.

The Prince jumps away from me.

"I - I'm sorry," he says with a blink. He shakes his head slightly as he staggers backwards. He runs a hand through his thick hair.

"I didn't mean to - I'm."

His skin is too dark, but I can almost swear that I see a blush creeping over his cheekbones.

"I didn't mean to bring you all the way here. I - wasn't thinking."

Lucy isn't here any more. My heartbeat is still slowing in my chest.

"It's alright," my voice is suddenly scratchy and quiet. I clear my throat.

Dad knows I'm here. Even with the security in the dungeon, the manic glint in his eye sends a shudder down my spine.

The Prince doesn't look at me. He looks mildly like he wants to run away.

"I won't see him any more, Your Highness," I say, more firmly. "Thank you for taking me there. I - I needed to know."

Although his expression doesn't change, I think I catch something in his eyes. Something he's not telling me - but he wants to. His gaze traces over my face for long enough that heat rushes to my cheeks. He blinks twice, like he's waking up.

Suddenly, he moves towards the door, embarrassment clear in his expression. He's only made it a step when he looks back at me, serious and stoic.

"Call me Orion," he murmurs, "I'm not Alpha, not Prince. Not for you. Not ever."

Then, he's gone.