Glow (The Plated Prisoner #4)

I hate it.

Slade’s footsteps crunch over the hay as he comes near until he’s standing right in front of me. “I thought you were going to take it easy until Hojat gave you the go-ahead for more?” he asks, question posed to Judd.

“We are…” Judd’s words trip to a stop.

“He’s not having me do anything difficult,” I admit, my jaw tight with frustration. “I just can’t do it.”

The admittance falls from my lips with disgust. I tear a hand through my hair, fingers getting tangled in the gold strands that fell out of my braid. “This is my first session, and I’m already failing. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic.”

I let out an ugly laugh, yanked from the center of my chest. “I can’t even stand,” I spit out, but my tone isn’t directed at him or Judd, it’s directed at me. “Because I keep losing my balance. Because I let him…I let him…”

My words choke off. Strangled, like a fist around my throat.

I let him.

For ten Divine-damned years, I let him.

Let him silence me. Let him lead me. Let him fool me. Let him cage me. Let him hurt me.

I let him drug me and hold me against that cold wall, let him take another part of me that I’ll never get back.

Understanding dawns in Slade’s eyes like mist on a shadowed field. “Your ribbons.”

The two of them trade a look, and I know what’s on their expressions, because it’s on mine too. The recognition of exactly what I lost.

I never noticed before how much my body relied on my ribbons. I have to learn all over again without the comfort of their presence.

But it’s not just that.

The weight of them is gone, yes, but they were more than just satiny strips that hung from my back. I miss the way they trailed behind me. I miss being able to lift them to help me comb my hair or wrap around my waist like a layer of armor. I miss the way they snaked around Slade’s leg.

They caught me. Defended me. They were my instincts. My unconscious impulse and sentiment. They made me more. And without them. I’m less. Less steady, less sure, less free.

You never notice what’s keeping you balanced until you realize you’re not standing straight anymore.

I took my ribbons for granted. For years, I hated them, hid them, tried to pretend that they weren’t a part of me. It wasn’t until I was with Fourth’s army that I even let them truly breathe—let myself breathe. It was just one inhale, but it led to a cacophony of gulping air.

I wonder if this is what it feels like for a bird whose wings have been clipped.

I didn’t comprehend until they were gone just how important they were to me. They were an extension of myself, they were my heart on my sleeve. And now, they’ve been torn away. I’m already trying to cope through my loss, but I never anticipated this other aspect to it.

It’s not just my balance that I lost.

“I let him make me into this, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late,” I say as fury fills my eyes, red-hot heat raining down my cheek like acid. The ribbon in my pocket feels like it’s taken on the weight of a brick. “How am I supposed to train to become strong if I can’t even stand?”

Slade’s fists tighten at his sides, as if he’s envisioning wringing Midas’s throat. “You’ve had your ribbons for a decade, Auren. It makes sense that you need to adjust to being without them.”

I glare at him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t placate me. Don’t stand there all confident and encouraging.”

“Would you rather I be doubtful and disparaging?”

Anger rises like a tide, but I push past it and start to walk away. I only make it a couple of steps before Judd appears in front of me. “You think you’re quitting, Gildy?”

“I’m not quitting,” I hiss through my teeth. “I’m just taking a break before I try to punch your kingly army commander.”

He snorts. “As much as I’d like to see that, Hojat gave me strict orders that you’re not to be hitting anything yet, so we’ll save that for another day. In the meantime, you told me you wanted to train, so I’m training you. I’m afraid you’re stuck in the Teeth until I say so.”

“You just asked me if I wanted to stop.”

“Yeah, and you said no.”

A frustrated sigh clatters past my lips. “I can’t even turn around without losing my balance, Judd. How are you going to train me?”

He sweeps an assessing gaze over me. “Well, if you’d have just told me what was going on, I would’ve been able to account for it and rethink my strategy,” he says. “Now that I know you’re having to adjust to the loss of your ribbons, we’ll start out our training a different way.”

“You think that will help?” I ask dubiously.

“Gildy, don’t wound my pride,” he tells me, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m an excellent trainer.”

“Who told you that?”

He frowns. “I’m sure someone’s said it.”

I find myself letting out a bemused laugh. With just a few words, my anger has been replaced with frustration.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” Judd asks me, not with judgment, but curiosity.

My shoulder lifts. “You’re not supposed to admit weakness, right? Even I know that.”

“That’s not a weakness, Gildy,” he says with a shake of his head. “And don’t lie to your trainer. When I ask you what’s wrong, I expect you to tell me the truth.”

I glance over my shoulder, expecting Slade to still be standing there, but he’s now next to the wooden crates off to the side, hip perched against one as he watches us. Just having him in here observing is making my chest tight with tension. He was so proud when I told him I wanted to train. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me flounder.

“Alright, sit your ass down.”

My head snaps back to Judd. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says before plopping down on the ground in front of me.

I follow suit, instantly adjusting when I feel sharp sticks of hay stab through my pants.

“We’re going to start over with some stretching. You’re going to go slow, and you’re going to tell me when certain movements hurt or if you start to feel off-center. Then we’re going to try some positions from here.”

“Sitting down?”

“Yep. You’re going to have to re-learn to balance and move without the help of your ribbons. So for now, I’m keeping you planted on your ass so you can stop psyching yourself out and falling over. Besides, Rip will get all pissy if you’re covered in bruises. Now shut up, stop thinking that you’re failing, and let’s figure this shit out one step at a time.”

My lips pull up. Just like that, I feel the last of the clogged up tension roll off my shoulders. “Are you sure people say you’re a good trainer?”

He shrugs. “I’m paraphrasing.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “Alright. Let’s figure this shit out.”

Judd flashes me a grin. “Thatta girl.”





CHAPTER 21




AUREN



There’s a glint of a golden blade. A blade I gilded with my own hands. Everything else has gone drab in gray and white—even King Fulke, who pins me against his chest with that very blade and slices into my neck.

I scream and struggle, but the sharp sting of the edge just sinks in more, slicing through me and making blood drip down to my chest. Yet when the king leans in against my ear, it’s not Fulke’s voice at all. It’s not his pudgy body at my back.

It’s a clean-shaven face and gilded sleeves and carob-pod eyes. It’s deceit and abuse and golden reins clutched in his hands. Reins that he’s tied around my wrist, holding me still. Keeping me where he wants me.

“If I can’t have her, no one can. Isn’t that right, Precious?” His voice is vile, pressed against my ear with an offensive purr, trying to wind around me just as much as his words always did.

We’re in Ranhold again now, with so much gold in the room it’s blinding. As if it’s glaring at me—glaring at him. We’re right here, stuck in the middle of the ballroom, reliving it all.

Slade is in front of me with his Wrath, while my wrath burns deep in my gut. Churning like magma ready to spew.

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