Crimson Lace

Chapter 18

ELLE
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Our world is like outer space without the stars. In a society where everyone is forced to fit in there is no room for anyone to shine. There is only the weak and the strong, no room for change. No one believes in the possibility of more than that, because they are threatened by the unpredictable, so they deem it a lie. Ignoring what is in front of you doesn't make it go away. Ignoring the light doesn't make it shine any less, but snuffing it out sure does.

"Her vitals are steady, Your Highness." A woman's voice fills the small room.

"Then what happened?" Keaton's tone bites through the air like an angry dog. I can almost feel his heavy breathing from where I lie on the cold stone floor.

"What happened is she has been starved and dehydrated in this hellforsaken, freezing prison." Alec's voice echoes in my head.

Am I dreaming or is he defending me?

"Mind your tone, son." King Titus is here too? They all came to watch my execution.

"The combination of the cold, starvation, dehydration, and stress caused by isolation caused her to have a heightened physical reaction to whatever triggered the panic attack." The woman's voice replies. She must be a Serf doctor.

I am too lost in the ruckus of my contemplation to hear the rest of the conversation. My own thoughts are as loud as a preschool playroom inside my mind. But at least the world no longer spins behind my closed eyelids.

There is a strange warmth around me, and I fear that if I open my eyes to face reality then it might leave. Something about the heat is unnatural. As if it's not just the air but something inside of me, coming from the soft pressure of someone's touch. The heat runs through me, radiating through every cold vein and stiff muscle. I can't help but lean into the person's touch. Even though I am not entirely sure as to who it is. 

"Are you conscious, Eleya?" someone asks.
I would much prefer to keep my eyes closed, and pretend to be asleep so they will leave me alone, but something tells me they aren't going to go away. Slowly I blink my eyes open.

There kneeling in front of me is a bronze eyed ginger man who looks about twenty years of age.

"Franco?" I mumble, in a groggy voice.

His hands are on my shoulders, using his ability to pulsate his warmth throughout my body. He looks up from his work, with a smirk.

"The one and only." Franco removes his hands from my shoulders, allowing his heat to wear off. "They told me to warm you up," he says, almost apologetically.

He rises to his feet, revealing who else is in the room with us. My jaw drops at the sight. King Keaton towers over me with a new murderous look on his face.

I search the other faces in the room, looking for Alec, and find him brooding in the back corner. He stands with his arms crossed, watching us with intent, clearly in deep thought. The memories of what we said to each other earlier come flooding back to me with a wave of instant regret and butterflies.

I shouldn't have said that I still have feelings for him. I know we can't be together and I keep making it harder for us to move on.

He looks dazed and the sight is worrying. Does he know what they plan on doing to me? I lean forward off the floor pulling myself up off the ground and kneeling in submission. I wait for whatever hell Keaton has planned for me.

King Titus stands next to Alec, watching his son with a look I know all too well. Disappointment. But what for, I don't know.

I sneer at the sentinels surrounding us. As if the king needs any protection against me. He could kill me with his mind if he wanted to. All he has to do is beckon for my blood to pour out of my eyes, or some other gruesome path.