Page 62

This was my prison.

It was a beautiful prison, with breathtaking views, towering walls, and lavish rooms. It was a castle fit for a princess, but this prison had nothing on the invisible one that I chained myself to.

Tyran thought he’d imprisoned me, but I’d been in my own prison for years now.

I smiled at the irony.

I closed my eyes for a moment and let the cold wind cut through the fog in my head while my chest wound tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe despite all the fresh air.

I opened my eyes and a scream tore from me.

“Help me!”

The wind snatched my scream and carried it over the village and to the choppy sea that stretched for miles over the horizon.

I took a deep breath and let my soul bleed, knowing very well help wouldn’t come. Instead, I slid off the windowsill and went in search of my sleeping pills that would offer a temporary oblivion.

TWENTY-TWO

TYRAN

Istared at my phone, my entire body locked and holding my breath as I watched Sienna move through the bedroom with a glass of brown liquid—clearly alcohol—and a bottle of pills.

She sat on the edge of the bed, struggling to open it. Is she drunk?

She tugged on the lid too hard and pills scattered across the floor while I stared in shock, my mind refusing to process what my eyes were showing me.

No. No, no, no.

My hands trembled as I reached for the button that would allow me to access the microphone and talk to her.

“Sienna.” I kept pushing again and again. “Sienna,” I called out again. It worked yesterday. “Fuuuck!”

“What’s going on?” Kyran asked, stepping closer and looking over my shoulder just as Sienna popped tablets—was that two or more?—into her mouth and washed it down with her drink.

Aiden was by my side too. “Is she⁠—”

“No,” I roared. “Don’t you fucking dare say it.”

I kept stabbing at the cursed button, but my hands were still bloodied and slick, my fingers slipping uselessly across the screen.

“Come on. Come on!”

Nothing.

I swore viciously, threatening the phone, the system, the bastard who’d designed it—anything and anyone that would listen—while my gaze remained locked on the screen.

Sienna had lain down.

Her head rested against the pillow, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, and she was still. Too still.

My stomach dropped.

For one horrifying second, she looked like⁠—

No.

I jerked forward.