The Tribrid and Her Prison {Book One - Complete}

The Room She Required

The book spread over Hope's lap was not a Grimoire. It was actually a play - Henry VIII. Her finger skimmed over the line from the first act. Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself.

"Bullshit." Hope giggled from her position on Albus' chair by the fire. She was upside down, her head dangling off the seat while her legs draped over the back of the chair as she thumbed through the pages.

Albus chuckled lightly from his desk. "What is?"

Looking over at him, Hope watched him continue writing on his parchment while his eyebrow raised in amused curiosity.

"Oh, just Shakespeare," she then quoted, "Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself."

Albus looked up now, meeting her eyes. "Do you not agree?"

Shrugging, she rotated her body so her bare feet touched the carpet beneath. "I don't entirely disagree, but I think a little burnt flesh is a small price to pay for revenge."

He made no move to disagree with her, but Hope wondered if he simply chose his battles carefully.

"I want my memories," Hope continued, closing the book she set on the little circular table nearby, "not because I miss them or curiosity..." she trailed off. "I want to hit back." That was the honest truth. It wasn't enough that it didn't happen again. Hope wanted them to regret having ever touched her.

Yet, she was afraid.

It was always fear that stopped her from venturing the corridors alone. Afraid she wasn't strong enough to handle what lay in wait. She didn't want to be the prey, but she had no choice. None of them knew what kept attacking her, just that there was a good chance it could kill her someday.

It meant they all had to be careful.

It meant the freedom she'd obtained had been abolished before she could stretch into it properly.

Maybe Hope sounded a bit bitter, but who wouldn't?

"I know you do," Albus murmured.

Glancing over at him, she met his soft blue gaze.

"Let's focus on the now." He smiled gently before standing and crossed the room to her at a leisurely pace, offering her his hands.

Hope smiled, taking his hands. She let herself be pulled to her feet, where his lips grazed hers. "Tonight will be one to remember for all the right reasons."

Grinning, she nodded. Hope had no idea what exactly he and Newt had planned, but it was Friday, and she was to wear her ball gown and meet them across from the troll tapestry.

Hope let her thoughts of sour revenge drift away as their lips connected in soft, slow kisses.

It was nearing midnight, and Hope was alone in Albus' bedroom. Butterflies fluttered against her ribs as her eyes flitted up and down in the mirror. Hope had never used makeup before, at least not that she remembered, but now she wasn't sure she wanted to ever take it off.

The gold in her hazel eyes was so prominent now from the light black outline of her eyes, and her skin had never looked so soft and flawless. The blush along her cheekbones offered more shape to her features. Leaning forward, Hope carefully touched a bit of rose gold shade to her eyelids. Clearly, Albus had spared no expense in the makeup selection; the small package opened three times its size, showing more colors and products.

Adding a bit of rouge to her lips, she stood back and examined herself. Her lashes were long and black while her hair waved soft dark curls to her bare shoulders.