Page 182 of Ignite
She giggles. “The Lord of Shadows.”
I nod and pull the scratchy cloth around me tighter. As much as I want to refuse it, I need out of this dungeon. Wherever they plan for me to go tonight, at least it sounds like it isn’there.
The only way I can figure out how to escape is if I see what’s beyond this room. So, I hold out my hand to accept thegift.
I still don’t know what I’m being prepared for—for a sacrifice? An offering for Vidaris to use me as she wishes? And I can’t saveanyoneif Daimon hands me over to her, let alone myself. Not without my magic or Nightfall.
The thought causes my lungs to constrict. Daimon—myrealfather—is worse than Reichardt ever was. Reichardt was conniving and calculated, but I at least always knew where he stood.
Daimon? He’s ruthless. Evil to his very core—coming down to the dungeons and being nice…giving me this supposed gift. It makes me wonder again if he was always like this, ifthiswas the man my mother chose to be with.
None of it adds up—why my mother wouldn’t tell me the truth, how Reichardt was involved in all of this to begin with,and how she and Daimon came to be. If I ever get out of here, I have a lot of questions for her.
“It’s to wear to the ball,” Anisia squeals, causing me to flinch.
I stiffen, my gaze dropping to the box. “Ball?”
“There’s a note.” She points to a card tucked underneath.
With shaky fingers, I slide it out and open it up.
Swirling cursive handwriting greets me, a single sentence written on the otherwise blank card.
It’s time for you to be announced as my heir.
My breath catches as panic creeps into my stomach.
What does this have to do with Vidaris? And Opal?
Confusion swirls around me as my gaze falls to the box.
The wrapping paper shimmers beneath the glow of the light. Whatever is in it calls out to me—a siren song pulling me toward it.
I shove it to the ground.
Nope. Not opening it. If he thinks he can bribe me with gifts, then he’s wrong. I can’t trust anything that’s in there.
I’ve seen my fair share of gowns, both hideously large and puffing out much further than necessary, or sleek and form-fitting like the one Adrian picked out for me the night we were supposed to announce our engagement.
Thelastthing I want to do is wear whatever Daimon saw fit to give me. He doesn’t know me—couldn’t possibly have any idea what I would like.
I turn my back to the box, ignoring the prickling sensation that trails up my neck. If Daimon thinks I would accept anything he gave me, he’s sorely mistaken.
“He said you can’t leave this room until you put it on,” Anisia says softly, the shrill in her voice quieter but still lingering.
I huff out a breath.
Daimon probably knew I’d refuse it. But he also can probably guess I want out of this cage.
Anisia picks up the box and holds it out. “I’ll give you a fewmoments to get dressed.” Her eyes give me a once-over before she floats directlythroughthe bars of my cage, her body moving in that strange way of hers.
She disappears through the black door behind us, and I’m left with nothing but the sound of water dripping somewhere nearby.
With a deep breath, I tear the lid off. Dark fabric rests inside, folded neatly. I snatch it out, expecting the worst. Holding it up, it unravels before me.
My mouth falls open.
It isn’t a gaudy dress with fluffy layers, nor a simple, elegant one.
