Cold Hearts and Stubborn Minds

18

I don't know when I woke up, just that it took a long time. My throat was dry and I started coughing dryly. It hurt to do so.

Once I sat up my vision blurred and spun. Whoa. I held it for a few seconds, wincing as I looked around. Wooden walls, a door that was most likely locked, a bed that I figured I fell off of, and a separate room to the left that I guessed was the bathroom. It seemed less like I was a prisoner and more like I was a guest.

But I knew that definitely wasn't the case.

I think I sat there for up to an hour, trying to see if I could piece together the odds and ends of glimpses I kept getting, probably little times when I was awake. How long did it take to get here, wherever here is? Long enough that I woke up multiple times.

It wasn't cold, exactly, but it wasn't warm, either. It felt very flat, empty, like there was nothing here but me. The only comfort I got was feeling the heat of my breath on my hands, and, once I got up, the warmth that the blanket on the bed gave me. It reminded me of the way Dylan wrapped his wings around me. Damn it.

The blanket dragged along the floor of the, uh, chamber as I decided to check out the other room. As I thought, it was a bathroom, far too clean and new-looking for a prisoner. But to her, I guess I was technically a guest.

My clothes, I realized an hour ago, had been changed. I shuddered when I realized it. At least the clothes she gave me fit well.

As I turn to go back into the other room a yelp and almost fall back when I see a man in front of me. Did they have a name? I couldn't remember. I didn't care.

"I see you are finally up," he says, his voice deep and plain. He wasn't one of the tough, burly guys that had been assisting the girl, obviously. He was slender and practiced, his movements planned out far ahead. And, much to my annoyance, he was pretty.

I didn't say anything, just tore my eyes from him and brushed past him, only to be yanked back by the blanket. He was smart, obviously. "The mistress would like to know how you are doing."

"If she's so worried about me why doesn't the brat come check on me herself," I growl, rather resentful. My voice was rough, making me sound tougher than I actually was, thankfully.

"She has duties to take care of," the man answers. I tug the blanket out from under his foot and wrap it around myself so it wasn't touching the floor.

"What, like kidnapping people?" I scoff and roll my eyes, sitting down on the bed and facing the wall.

"Like saving people," he states as if it wasn't the stupidest prospect ever.

"Saving? She calls this saving? Saving me from what, the wind?" I snap and bury my head in the blanket.

"From death, boy," he says blatantly. I look up at him, surprised.

"Death? What do you mean, death?"

"The creature you were with was going to kill you."

"You realize how stupid that sounds, right?" I ask, shaking my head. "Dylan wouldn't kill me. He barely laid a finger on me unless prompted."

"Every single person that has been brought here says that," he says, facing me now. "They play their victims, make them trust them, love them, even, and then betray them to a point that the victim's heart breaks and they die."

"That sounds like a massive lie," I say and shake my head. "He would never do such a thing. His family left-"

"That's the story they tell every one of their victims. They've been abandoned, forgotten by their flock. Your particular creature has destroyed hundreds of people like you. He preys on the weak and vulnerable."

"I'm not... weak..." I say, trailing off. I was, really. Vulnerable, too. I was too outgoing and trusting all the time. But... Dylan wouldn't do that. These are just lies they're telling me to get me on their side... right?

"He's been around for years and years," the man says, nodding. "We've seen many that he chose go down after they didn't believe us because he played them so well, got them to trust him."

"And the others?"

"None have been nearly as brutal as him. He enjoys playing and lying and killing his victims with heartbreak. He's their Ultimate, you see."

"Ultimate?" I ask, trying not to take any of this into account. There was no way it could be true, none at all. He was just too... too... real, too honest, too loving. They had to be lying. I couldn't listen to them.

"He's their leader, of sorts, their most skilled player. They see it as a game and the prize is heartbreak and death. He's the Ultimate because he has the highest rate, the easiest time. He knows all the ways to play his victims, how to make them fall easier," the man explains.

I didn't want to hear more about what Dylan was supposedly doing, how many people he was supposedly killing. I didn't want to hear it.

"What's your name?" I ask abruptly and lock my eyes onto the man's, whose eyes were bright blue.

"Nox," he replies easily, as if this is something that he gets asked all the time.

"And the girl's name?" I ask, pulling the blanket tighter around me and trying to forget everything he just said. Why did I have to ask?

"Silena," he says. "Remember the name so you can tell who saved you."

"She didn't save me. She kidnapped me and locked me up and sent someone to lie about Dylan," I say and shake my head.

"It's all true, even if you--"

"It's all lies!" I exclaim, throwing myself at Nox and grabbing his shirt by the collar, pulling him closer before growling, "You're both complete liars. She just wants me to stay here so she can have me to herself!" I say steadily before releasing him. "And, newsflash to her, I only like guys."

I pull the blanet tighter around me and shove my face into the pillow on the bed, trying to hold back tears.

I hear Nox stand and figure he must be leaving. I stay where I am and don't move, repeating the phrase, "It's all a lie," in my head.

It can't be true, right?

Right?