The Plated Prisoner #4

Glow

Raven Kennedy
“Oh, Goldfinch, I’d follow you to the end of the world and tip right off the edge, all because of a crook of your finger.”
Rip
He takes my hand, expression resigned. “I’m finally going to tell you why they really call me Rip.” I leave Slade’s mother’s house feeling like I’m walking straight through the silk strands of a spiderweb. This uneasy, viscid feeling clings to me all over, no escape from their unsettling fibers. “Do you have to have so many damn secrets?” I grumble into the dark. Slade chuckles. “Sorry. I’ll do my best to tell you all of them.” “So, just to be clear, there is definitely no favored saddle you have locked in a cage somewhere or an ex-lover that you keep in this village?” He shoots me an unamused look. “No.” “Good. Good.” I’m trying to fill in the silence with nervous chatter, because I have no idea what to expect. Every single one of Slade’s secrets has always been pretty groundbreaking, and I don’t think this one will be any different. Now that we’re back out in the heart of the cave, the buzzing sound has returned. Even pitched at its low hum, it sets my teeth on edge. Slade leads me around Elore’s house and then deeper into the cavern. The bright, cheerful blue glow soon dims, the huge rivers of fluorescence splitting off and becoming nothing but small rivulets in the stone. Without enough light from the mountain to counteract the size of the space, it feels as if the shadows close in on us, the massive space seeming smaller than it really is. And still, there’s a constant hum that I can feel vibrating through my skin. “You can hear that too, right?” “I can.” He doesn’t seem concerned, nor does he elaborate, so I have to believe that whatever the reason is for this hum isn’t dangerous. It also must have to do with whatever he wants to show me. My nervous chatter returns. “In my head, I’d pretty much narrowed the reason for your nickname down to having ripped abs. Or
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The best kind of mine
Slade uses a hand to turn my cheek, to lock our gazes together. “When I say you’re mine, it’s not cheap ownership. I don’t see you as a figure to lock to my arm like a toy to keep away from all others.” That was the only mine I knew. “So what are you saying exactly?” I ask with a faltered breath. “I mean you’re mine to please. To pleasure.” The motive in his eyes matches with the drag of his hand, the curl of his palm as he presses against my throbbing clit and makes me see sparks of light behind my eyes. “You’re mine to protect. To adore. To hear. To see. To experience. To love.” A pitted lump burns in my throat. “You’re mine, Auren. As wholly as I am yours. If there’s something you crave, if there’s some freedom you want to try the taste of, then you will do it, and I will be right there with you. Watching you devour your wants. And then I will devour you.”
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He has to save her
There’s a double-edged sword, and Auren’s life is balancing at the tip of it. I have to get her as far away as I can, but I can’t risk leaving her in this rotted stasis for too long. Without knowing how far her power can reach, it’s a guessing game as to how far we need to go. All I want to do is get the rot out of her. Her body can’t take more depletion. I need to have her on land too, settled and secure, because when I remove my power, there’s a chance she can still call on hers, and I can’t have that happen in the air. Her aura is nothing but a pale wisp, like dying mist in the light. If I wait too long, my power that’s infested her will do more damage than I can reverse, and I can’t let that happen either. I can’t let either of those things happen. So this will be down to the very last second. Time and distance are my enemy and my ally. With anxious worry, my heels come up to nudge my timberwing. He lets out a call, either to show his displeasure or to signal to the rest of the flock. I know the others are following.
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Can he not
Until Slade and my own steps come to a jarring halt at the sight in the living room. Everyone is gathered with a serious look on their faces, and they’re all standing. That doesn’t bode well. All the excitement drains out of me in an instant, my smile vanishing as we step into the room. “What’s wrong?” Slade asks, his gaze falling to his Wrath. Ryatt passes Slade a rolled scroll. “It seems Queen Kaila has grown tired of waiting for a written reply, so she’s sent her advisor to Fourth Kingdom,” Ryatt says, a grim look on his face. “Her brother Manu will arrive in two days’ time.”
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Unwrapping his own gift
“Are you alright?” Slade asks, his arm braced on the back of my chair. I nod. “I’m fine.” When I realize how surly that sounded, I lift my gaze to him. “Thank you for taking me to the clothing shop—you didn’t have to buy me all of that, by the way.” “You need clothes,” he says with a shrug. “Plus, it’s purely selfish.” “How so?” He leans in close. “I get to rip every single piece off you. It’s like getting to decide on the wrapping paper for my own gift.”
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