The Rebel (#Wattys2016)

37. Prince Hunter

Skander sat on the floor with his head between his hands. The metal bars burned against his back, his scars hurting more than ever. Beside him sat Jasper, who held June's hand. Neither bothered trying to hide how close they were, and while the Selected and the King were surprised, none commented anything, as their relationship was the least surprising thing. Adeen had betrayed them all. None spoke, not after their initial conversations and the punishment they'd brought.

"What just happened?" Lady Regina had asked.

"What do you think happened?" Lady Sosie snapped, and Skander finally saw the girl Adeen complained about. The arrogant brat who wanted the crown and nothing else. "Your precious little friend just betrayed us all. She killed us. All of us."

"But—."

"Silence!" A rebel snapped, his hand resting on his rifle. "Sleep, all of you." His angry face distorted into a grin, and three scars that ran over his cheeks shone in the darkness of the royal dungeons. "Soon, we'll keep you awake."

Skander was the quietest one, and he felt Jasper's eyes on him all the time. He couldn't keep Adeen's image out of his head, her proud face as she faced the nation she'd changed. How comfortable she'd been around the rebels, even calling a few by their name, and how her guns seemed to be extensions of her hands. How her eyes were dead, and each time they looked at him, they were two black holes that showed the emptiness inside.

Skander shook his head and moaned, trying with all his might to shake the images out, but they stayed. Finally, he stood up and clutched the bars. He couldn't help a few tears that escaped his eyes, and, hunched over, he looked every bit the fallen prince he was.

His skin tingled with the memory of Adeen's fingers touching it, of her lips as she whispered secrets into his skin and of the kisses she'd given him. Whenever he took a deep breath, he could still smell her. He moaned again, attracting the attention of his brother.

"Skander? Are you alright?" Prince Jasper asked as he stood up. He laid a hand gently on Skander's shoulder, but the gesture only reminded him of her.

Finally, the Crown Prince of Illea snapped.

"No I'm not!" He looked up at his brother, who stared at him, surprised. "I'm not okay!" Not bearing his brother's stare, Skander turned to the bars and began shaking them. He screamed. "I'm not okay! I'm not okay! I'm not okay!" He took in a deep breath, ready to let out another scream of frustration and anger and sadness.

"Skander."

He stopped mid breath. Slowly, he looked up at her. Adeen stared back, her ponytail slightly messy. Her right hand held a gun, and her left one a pair of handcuffs. A rebel beside her, the same one who had snapped at the prisoners before, opened his mouth to protest, but she glared at him.

"Mind your own business, Thane. I'm here on Golmes' orders, going to make him talk."

"I was not informed of those orders."

In one quick movement, Adeen had pushed him against a wall, one hand on his neck and the other pressing the gun to his temple. The Selected gasped behind Skander, awestruck by their friend's show of violence.

"How long have you been in the brigade, Thane? A week? Two?"

The rebel swallowed, hard.

"Three, ma'am."

"Three." Adeen repeated, clicking her gun's safety off. "Guess what, Thane. I've been here for seven years. I am your superior, and I can punish you. If I were to kill you here and now, as a mere show of strength to our lovely guests, no one would punish me. Know why, Thane?" The rebel man shook his head, sweat glimmering in his forehead. Adeen smiled brutally and got close to his face, close enough she could kiss him. "Because you don't matter."