I can still see him, plain as day. Little boy, heartbroken that an animal was murdered for his meal.
It’s my own heartbreak that I’ve nursed ever since. In that way, his heart and mine are the same.
Gray’s voice is clear as he meets Charlotte’s eyes. “We need to be free. We need to get out of here. If your vision is saying that unlocking the prince is the way to go, then so be it. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” Charlotte gulps. “But we barely know him! We don’t know what turns the magic will take if he’s added to the mix.”
Gray kneels by my side, holding me gently while someone jeers “Shifter whore!” in the background. I shudder against Gray, swallowing all the things I don’t understand and can’t make my peace with. Whenever he’s gentle to me in public, it draws out anger from small minds who can’t understand that kindness comes in all forms.
Gray doesn’t retaliate. If not for the tightening of his biceps, one would guess he didn’t even hear the slight on me. Steadiness is his strength. It’s even more potent than his massive muscles. He controls his temper, and doesn’t let the jeers define his mood. That’s a good man—one who can be the best version of himself, no matter the circumstances.
I feel too many eyes staring a hole through my back, but I do what I can to ignore them, letting myself be in Gray’s arms and nowhere else. I’m not sitting across from seven-year-old Paxton. I’m not sneaking him an extra tart to fill his belly while his father berates him about the dangers of being so sensitive.
My hand tingles as my memory finally stretches open the tiniest bit, and the scene plays out in my mind. While King Regis shames Paxton over dinner, I see my little self reaching under the table and holding tight to Paxton’s hand, bracing him through the humiliating discomfort.
I shudder in Gray’s embrace as the rain that the clouds have been promising starts peppering down on our heads. I grip him tighter, scared of the dormant connection that’s only just now coming into my memories. What else has my brain been hiding from me?
But now is not the time for this. I can’t look weak in front of the other inmates; they’ll amp up the abuse, and I just can’t take it today.
I also can’t sit down during brick duty. The guards don’t let us slack off for more than a minute at a time so we can catch our breath.
When I rise to my feet, Gray is glued to my side, and Cass is stuck to Charlotte. I meet Charlotte’s eyes, grateful our protectors never stray too far when we need them most. Rain is slicking off my lashes, and the wind picks up, chilling my bones with a sudden freeze.
“Tonight,” I tell Charlotte. “I’ll unlock Paxton, and we’ll be one step closer to getting out of this place.”
By the time the whistle blows, the four of us are beat and ready for sleep, but we know there’s more work to be done before any of us can close our eyes tonight.
Cellmates
Paxton
I’ve never showered in the same space as a shifter before. I’m sure I’m not supposed to take notice, though every fae would.
But I don’t want to be every fae. I want to be their leader. The constant thought in my mind is “Where do I want to lead my people?”
There’s nothing wrong about bathing in the same room as a shifter, I remind myself. Gray is five stalls down, for crying out loud. Still, it’s strange, and I feel every ounce of that oddness as I rinse the hard day’s work off of me.
I’ve never been covered in grime like this. My nailbeds are a disaster, and I have dirt between my toes. The tepid water sends a shiver down my spine, but at least I’m able to get clean.
When I turn the spigot off and towel myself dry, I’m treated to the odd sight of the shifter in his underwear, brushing his teeth at the sink.
Shifters are hairy, to say the least. The brown skin is populated by more hair than my stylist would ever permit on my back.
I’ve not had a ton of exposure to shifters. Father doesn’t employ any, and their land is on the outskirts. They keep to themselves, mostly.
The shifter spits into the sink. “You enjoying the view?”
I swallow hard and straighten. “Sorry. I’m new at living near shifters.”
“Shifter,” he corrects. “I’m the only one at Prigham’s, so you don’t need to get all worried we’re going to take over your land.”
I can’t help my wince. “I guess I deserved that.” Father’s policies on making it harder for the shifters to live inland have won us all sorts of popularity with the fae, but not so much with the shifters, whose land sometimes grows crowded. “Maybe we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.”
His shoulders sink, which I wasn’t expecting. “Sorry. You don’t deserve that. I hate your dad, not you.”
I cast around, looking for the clean uniforms. I’m still adjusting to my new life here. “Feel free to wallow in your hatred as much as you like. I’ll not rob you of it.”
I learned long ago that I cannot make anyone like me, so I’ve long since stopped trying.
“Over there,” the shifter motions, pointing toward a ledge on the wall. “Clean uniforms no shifter’s ever touched.”
Great.
“Do we have to hate each other? Is that already set in stone?” I try not to whine, but I’m certain it comes out like that.
“Do you have to stare at me like I’m a circus freak while I brush my teeth?”
Bollocks. “Fair point. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve just never been this close to a shifter, is all. I’m adjusting. I’ve never watched a man brush his fangs before. This is all new to me.”
Gray turns around, resting his rump against the sink, his arms crossed over his wide chest. “And why is that? Are shifters not part of the kingdom? Are you not a servant to the people? Am I not ‘people’?”
Fantastic. A political debate. “Could we at least go back and forth on this when we’re both dressed? I’m at a disadvantage, here.”
Again, the fight goes out of him. It’s like he’s gearing up to tear me apart, but then feels too guilty to really dig in like he wants. “You’re right. I’m being mean. It’s just… watching everyone kiss your arse the second you get here? It’s getting under my skin. Your father’s the reason we’re all here, and they act like they can’t wait to see what kind of haircut you’re sporting. I thought I’d made my peace with fae vanity, but this is a whole new level.” He waves off the conversation. “But again, that’s not your fault. I shouldn’t wish for them to be terrible to you. It wouldn’t accomplish anything.”
I’m not used to changing in front of another man, so I do it quickly, dropping my towel and sliding my white shorts into place, tugging my tank over my head, and then stepping into my orange jumpsuit. “And just what are you hoping to accomplish?”
The shifter moves toward the exit. “Charlotte’s going to tell you all about it. You might want to hurry up.”
Then he marches out, leaving me with more questions than anything else. I brush my teeth quickly, though I’ve dreaded each night I’ve spent in the cell thus far.
I don’t know what to do about Arlanna. We’re not supposed to be near each other. There are around five hundred inmates at Prigham’s. The fact that her cell was the only one with an opening is a coincidence I can’t write off as nothing.
It couldn’t be our fathers pulling strings, because if they were, they would have put us at opposite ends of the penitentiary.
There are no mirrors in this place, so I have no idea what my hair is doing, product-less and unbrushed.
When I finally move into the cell, the three of them aren’t doing their usual ignoring dance, where they avoid eye contact and slip into bed as quick as possible. On the contrary, they’re all sitting on bunks, staring right at me when I walk in.
“Good evening,” I greet them, since that seems the polite thing to do.
“We got off on the wrong foot,” Charlotte says in her mousy voice, which, up until now, has never been directed at me. “I mean, hi. I mean, we should talk.”
I smirk at her discomfort as her ebony fingers twist in her lap. She’s tiny by comparison, yet I’m on the top, smaller bunk. At some point, that should be rectified. Though, perhaps being friendly first is the way to go, before I up and demand the larger sleeping arrangement. “What would you like to talk about, now that we’re speaking?”
Charlotte angles her chin up at me. “I shouldn’t have ignored you. There are things going on that aren’t your fault, but I’ve been treating you as if they are.” Kindness beams off her features, and I wonder if she’s ever said a cross word in her whole life.
“I’m sure it’s hard to have a newcomer thrown into your cell. We can start over, if you like.” I stick out my hand to her. “I’m Paxton.”
I so rarely get to introduce myself to anyone. The entire kingdom was alerted when I lost my first tooth.
She eyes my offer and finally takes my hand, standing to shake it. “Charlotte.” Then she motions to the other bunk. “This is Gray and Arly.”
Gray shakes my hand with no hint of a threat or the need to establish dominance. Though, to be fair, the man is enormous. His dominance is sort of a given.
I can’t get a read on this guy. I’ve never shaken a shifter’s hand before. I note the warmth in comparison to everyone else’s cold fingers. “Glad you’re here,” he mumbles, though I’m not sure how true that is.
When I move to shake Arlanna’s hand, my arm stills inches from hers. I don’t know why, but it feels wrong to touch her in any way. We’ve been kept apart for so many years. I know it’s silly, but I feel as if my father knows when I’m breaking his rules, even isolated as I am in here.
She makes the bold move and grips my hand, taking charge when I’m freezing up. “Hello, Paxton.”
“Arlanna,” I breathe, staring into her blue eyes as if I might drown in them.
It’s not desire, or maybe it is, but her allure isn’t the main player here. It’s that she understands me, or understands more than most what it is to be photographed from the time you were born. The weight we both carry to have perfect posture and appear poised at all times is a tax no child should have to pay.
Now that we’re adults, I fear part of me might be stuck like this—proper and never allowed to make a decision on my own.
Her voice is strong but not loud, carrying authority she doesn’t apologize for. It’s a breath of fresh air, listening to her speak. “I’m sorry you ended up at Prigham’s. I’m sure that wasn’t in your grand plans for your life.”
I pause all movement, unable to look away from her eyes. As much as I try not to feel it, there’s no denying my attraction for her.
She’s the highest paid model in the world, so I’m sure that’s a normal reaction to have.
I clear my throat. “It’s the first time anyone’s said that to me. They’re all excited I’m here, but no one’s thought to ask if I wanted to be sent to prison.”
She doesn’t let go of my hand, and I hope she never does. I’m aware she’s with Gray, and that he’s watching our exchange and parsing it for subtext, but I don’t care. It’s the first time I’ve felt human since my arrival at Prigham’s.
“Well, I’m sorry, all the same. We don’t know each other, but eventually, I hope you can learn to lean on us. The three of us, plus Cass. She was our roommate before you got here.”
“I didn’t realize. Why did she move out?”
Charlotte speaks up from behind me. “To make room for you. It’s important you’re with us.”
I turn to face the little mouse, dropping Arlanna’s grip and noting the tingling sensation that doesn’t leave my hand. “You’re a fan of my father’s?”
Charlotte’s upper lip curls as if she’s smelling something foul. “Not hardly. I’m a clairvoyant. Sometimes I get these visions that tell me what to do. One of them was about you.”
The Deep End
Paxton
Gray exhales at Charlotte’s bluntness. “Throw him into the deep end, why don’t you.”
I glance at Charlotte’s wrists. A vision about me? What is she on about? “But you’re wearing magic-muting cuffs. You can’t get visions in here.”
The corner of Charlotte’s mouth crooks. “Arly unlocked us. I knew before they put the cuffs on me that she would be coming to Prigham’s someday. I could see it so clearly, that she would be part of the plan.”
“What plan?” This is all going in a direction I didn’t anticipate.
“We’re supposed to set everyone free.”
Charlotte’s words drop a silence into the air that’s weighted with my confusion. “Come again? Free from what?”
Gray moves to lean against the concrete wall and taps his foot to it. “From Prigham’s.”
I’m not entirely certain what to do next. Should I laugh? The urge is certainly there. Should I request a change in roommates? “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Yes, Paxton, make sure you keep your manners above all else.
I roll my eyes at myself.
Charlotte takes the lead, and I can tell they’re all on the same page. “The people who commit the crimes should be the ones doing time for them. Passing your sins down to innocents isn’t any way to run the free world.”
“Are any of us innocent?” I argue, though my mouth tastes sour at the sound of my father’s words tumbling out.
Charlotte’s chin firms. “I am not a murderer.”
“And I’m not a rapist,” Gray grumbles.
Arlanna’s poise is nothing if not impressive. “I am not my father. And something tells me, neither are you. You don’t belong behind bars, taking a backseat while the world keeps on moving without you.”
I run my hand over my face. “But this is how it is. I don’t see what you mean to do to stop any of it. All the protestors have barely made a dent in Father’s resolve. This is the way he wants the world to run, so this is how it is. I used all my pull to vote against the Sins of the Father bill, but it still managed to pass.”
Charlotte offers a compassionate tilt of her head in her gentle way, like a little sister I always wish I’d had.
Like Arlanna was supposed to be, before they took her away.
Charlotte shrugs. “I don’t know the whole plan. It’s only revealed to me one piece at a time. Once I obey, we move one step closer. The last step was for Cass to switch cells to make room for you. My visions know better than I do what must be done.”
“And what must be done next?” I swallow hard, not wanting to buy into any of this. “Not that I believe we can actually be set free.”
Charlotte runs her thumb over my knuckles, which are scuffed now, thanks to hauling bricks like a layman. “Arly is going to unlock you. She can make your magic-muting cuffs decorative.”
My head whips toward the woman with whom I’m not supposed to be in the same room. “What is she talking about?”
Arlanna massages her forearm. “I didn’t know I could do it, but apparently, that’s my thing. I unlock people’s magic. Unlock and enhance.” She looks down. “Sloan said the magic in the house isn’t the same since I left. So, whatever you have, I make bigger. And in here, it’s possible for me to turn those cuffs into simple jewelry.”
I shake my head, wishing we could go back to ignoring each other. “I don’t want to be unlocked, or whatever you’re calling it. These cuffs are the best thing that’s happened to me in all this mess.”
The shifter frowns at the answer they’re clearly not expecting. “Explain.”
But I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to ever talk about it.
I rub my temples as a headache begins creeping up my neck. “Look, we don’t know each other all that well, so trust me when I say it would be very bad for my magic to be allowed inside these walls.”
Arlanna’s gaze is so intense, I can feel heat where she’s staring. “What is your magic, Paxton? I assumed it was elation. You make all the kids you visit at your charity stops so happy. It’s elation, right?”
My w
ord, she’s sweet, assuming the best in me, even though I’m a right monster. “You really think that about me?”
Arlanna shrugs. “It’s not an uncommon theory. If not elation, then what’s your magic?”
Every exchange we have is so strange and exciting to me. She’s the forbidden fruit, and she’s standing right there, talking to me like it’s no big deal.
But she’s asking me a question to which she should know the answer. I mean, it’s the crux of our families’ feud.
“You truly don’t remember?”
Arlanna’s mouth pulls to the side. “Should I?”
Her words punch me in the stomach, as if all the tidbits about her that I’ve committed to memory were a waste.
She doesn’t remember me at all.
I feel so foolish, and utterly gutted.
I shove my hands where pockets should be, but aren’t. “Look, I’m not trying to not be a team player, but some things are private. There’s a reason there’s no trace of my magic in the papers. My father’s gone to great lengths to keep my ability out of public view.” I motion between myself and the three of them. “We barely know each other. There are people on staff at the palace who still don’t know what my magic is.”
Charlotte’s mouth pulls to the side. She’s adorable. “I’m not sure what to do, then. The vision needs you unlocked, but it seems mean to do that against your will.” She blinks up at me. “For the people to be freed, the path is clear: you need to be unlocked.”
I run my hands through my hair, wishing I had better news for her. “I’m saying no for your own good. I’m just getting to know you, but I don’t want my magic to hurt you. You seem like a nice person.”
Charlotte reaches out and does something so surprising, I can’t help but stare. She holds onto my hand, making contact in a small way that feels so very big. She’s not glomming onto me; she’s offering comfort. Solidarity.
“I understand, and I trust your judgment.” She squeezes my fingers. “It’s not me being a pain about it; it’s the vision. Whatever your magic is, it’s needed if we’re going to set everyone free.”
Sins of the Mother: A Paranormal Prison Romance (Sinfully Sacrificed Book 2) Page 2
