King of the Unsightly (Tempting Trickery #1)

Run, Little Flea, Run

T he cold and damp room held little to no light, and instead, I was swathed in darkness, and it distorted how time moved around me. I could have been trapped here for days ... weeks ... or months .

I wasn’t certain of anything anymore.

Maybe my stay here numbed me, or maybe ... the betrayal, the grief, and Lucien’s odd behavior—or lack thereof—was nothing more than a fleeting memory now.

I exhaled and wiped the dirt and grime from my hands onto my worn-out pants and glared at the rusted bars in front of me as two guards stood watch. It’s like they thought I would be able to bend the metal and escape.

I wasn’t superhuman. It seemed a tad excessive, and Ingrid had already made it painstakingly clear the cell was warded against magic.

I still tested the theory out over and over again until my fingers went raw.

I wasn’t even given a bed or blanket, but I didn’t think she cared if my stay here was comfortable or not.

What psychotic lady treats her granddaughter like this?

I scooted closer to the stone wall and wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them closer to my body.

I tipped my head to the side to check on Lucien, who was staring blankly—a common behavior from him.

The only passing pleasure I found in this hellhole was catcalling the guards, hoping I would get a reaction out of Lucien.

“Hey. HEY.” I could hear the guards grumble in annoyance as my voice pierced their eardrums.

It made my lip twitch in amusement.

I stood and sauntered over to the bars and clasped my hands tightly around them. I dipped my head to the side and batted my eyes.

I probably looked like some dirty gremlin, but it only made it more satisfying to see how uncomfortable they appeared.

“Are you a sorcerer?” I paused and saw both guards’ faces turn pale. “Because I’m cast under your spell.” I glanced back, but the only response I got from Lucien was him turning his head to the side—refusing to look at me.

So I pushed the guards again. “Are you a demon?” I reached out a hand and caressed the closest guard’s shoulder. “Because I can feel how hot you are from here.”

The guard stumbled forward, shuddered from my touch, and gave me the most disgusted face I had ever seen in my life.

I tried to hold in my laughter as I clasped my hands over my mouth.

My sanity left me a couple thousand marks-on-the-wall ago.

It also didn’t help that the only pickup lines I could think of were ones from my T-shirt collection. Maybe Lucien needed me to use new material since he had seen me wear those shirts countless times in the past.

I glanced at the guards and noticed they both sported similar expressions of anguish.

Was I hallucinating? Why did I feel like the guards saw me as some creepy old witch from a fairy tale who came to poison a princess, and they saw themselves as the damsels?

It was almost laughable how much they abhorred my presence. I mean, weren’t they some witch’s minions? Yet, they were more terrified of me than I was of them, like they knew something I didn’t.

It made me curious.

I could hear the guards’ hushed squabbling, but their whispers were so loud I could make out every word spilling out of their mouths.

“Switch me places.”

“No way.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Then make her stop. She’s been at it for weeks.”

“How do you expect me to do that? Kill her? She would disembowel us if we so much as touch her.”

“Ugh.”

I turned away, not caring to listen to their useless bickering, and looked back at Lucien in the cell next to me.

He didn’t even budge.

I grunted, half tempted to rip my hair out in defeat. “Oh, come on. You definitely would have laughed at it before.” I so badly wanted to see his dimpled smile again instead of this barely walking corpse.

“How can you be so optimistic at a time like this?” Lucien asked as his light eyes fell onto me, and my jaw dropped.

I ran to the other side of the cell.

My eyes widened with anticipation. “You finally spoke.” My voice came out high-pitched and squeaky and I cleared my throat. “I had been talking to myself so much I thought I was going crazy.” I squeezed his hand through the metal bars. Lucien was back. I fought back happy tears and took a deep breath. “And you think me catcalling the guards is me being optimistic?” I lowered a brow.

“No, it’s you refusing to feel anything and trying to use humor as a defense mechanism,” Lucien muttered; his gravelly voice was solemn, but his face stayed emotionless.

I opened and closed my mouth.

He wasn’t wrong.

I brushed my fingers through my tangled hair and watched his expression darken as he tightened his square jaw.

We held eye contact, and I decided to ignore his previous remark. “Are you okay?” I positioned my hand on his forehead.

Lucien felt unusually hot.

“I will be when we get out of here.” He pried my hand off him, and a sudden tinge of pain cemented itself within me.

He was so cold and distant.

I had never witnessed this side of Lucien. “I’m sorry.” I looked away from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for me.” I choked on the last word but forced back the tears and smiled weakly at him. “I will fix this.”

Lucien stayed silent, and I yearned for him to hug me and say he had missed me.

That he was glad to see me.

And if he had to choose anyone to be in a situation like this—he would choose me. Each time.

But he didn’t say anything.

A deep ache burrowed into my chest as my heart pulsed erratically. And no matter how many deep breaths I took, it was there, pounding rapidly until I felt like I was going to explode.

A myriad of emotions flickered across Lucien’s face like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

I was about to speak to him when a bloodcurdling scream reverberated against the stone walls, and a hot liquid sprayed against my back, soaking my clothes.

The look of horror was written all over Lucien’s face as he pressed himself away from me and leaned against the opposite wall.

My breathing turned shallow as my body spun around on its own volition to witness what—or who—was behind me.

I stood there horrified.

My eyes had to be deceiving me.

It couldn’t be him. “Kaschel?” I whispered as I gaped at the towering man before me soaked in the blood of the guards.

Their mangled corpses lay crooked and bent on the floor.

“I should have known there would be no other place for a little flea but in a dungeon rotting away in filth with the rats and mites.”

“What. How.” I stumbled over my words, too aghast to speak clearly.

Kaschel inclined his head and chuckled; it was throaty and menacing as it echoed throughout the empty corridor. “I had told you once before I had schemes you were unaware of.”

Kaschel wrapped his strong hands around the bars and the shadows crawled from his body and swallowed everything in sight except for the small corner of the room he forced me into.

Now there was nothing between us. Nothing to stop him from doing whatever he had come here to do.

Kaschel stalked toward me and snatched my wrist. “My little insurance plan paid off.” He kissed the back of my hand; the crescent moon radiated silver, expelling all the shadows away.

A loud hissing assaulted my ears, and I involuntarily puked my guts out as I fell to my knees.

My world spiraled, and I couldn’t stop hyperventilating as my erratic breathing felt like knives against my throat.

Kaschel’s amethyst eyes outshone the light, and it revealed his wicked nature as he crouched in front of me.

Kaschel tipped his head down, and his alabaster hair moved with him. “I keep my promises, unlike you. Now hurry. Your friend doesn’t look so great.” Kaschel clicked his tongue and turned his back to me. “And don’t worry, your punishment will come later.”

A black hole materialized in the corridor, and he walked out of the cell and vanished into the abyss.

I stumbled to my feet and snagged the key off the guard’s mutilated body. The key soaked in blood, I fiddled with the lock on Lucien’s cell until it clicked open.

I ran to his side and collapsed next to him, but he wasn’t moving, lifeless again.

I grabbed his cheeks and squeezed. “We need to go now!”

Lucien’s head flopped forward, his arms dangled to my sides, and he fell into me; no matter how much I squeezed—he didn’t move.

Why wasn’t he moving?!

I cried out in agony and wrapped my arms around him, hoping to god he would open his eyes.

This was all a nightmare.

And I would wake up in my bed in a cold sweat knowing none of this was real.

But it was.

And I could feel all my rage and grief surge through me at once.

My magic cracked and hissed as it engulfed the cells and hall, spreading like wildfire.

I screamed as pangs of anger splintered within me.

All other emotions were swallowed by the violet light thrumming inside my chest.

As the discomfort settled down, I got to my feet and grabbed Lucien by the legs and struggled to drag him behind me. He was still limp on the cold ground as the violet waves lashed at everything around me except for him.

I couldn’t feel my soul any longer. My chest was hollowed out and emptied. All the pain twisted me into a broken marionette doll with only one emotion.

Rage, and it made me hungry.

Hungry for power. For revenge against all who tormented me.

For answers.

And somehow, I knew what I needed to do: get Lucien medical attention and find the creepy witch lady who warned me from the beginning.