Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

I need to remember who he is, what he’s capable of. I need to keep my guard up now more than ever.

“You should always keep these out,” he says quietly, and for some reason, another tear wants to spill out of me.

I don’t like these feelings gathering around me. I want to hold onto my anger, to use it to help me push him away. The air between us has grown thicker, like we’ve passed the first line of trees and moved deeper into the woods. It’s so congested with branches and brambles that I can’t get through it without being scratched.

It takes effort, but I manage to clear my throat and whisper, “Go, Rip. Please.”

His expression shutters, and whatever moment we were just stuck in dissipates. He drops my ribbon, and it immediately sags down, drooping like a flower, a silent sigh of regret bent to the ground.

When he steps back, I’m both relieved and bereft. I try to feel nothing instead.

Rip opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but then he goes still, his head cocking as if he hears something.

My hackles immediately rise. “What?”

“Hmm, seems I can’t leave just yet.”

“And why not?”

His infuriating smirk returns, but it’s not like before. This one is...mischievous, and it fills me with dread. “Because your golden king is coming. I think I’ll stay and say hello.”

Chapter 2

AUREN

My eyes flare wide. “What? Midas is coming back?”

Rip arches a brow. “What’s wrong, are you distressed at that fact?”

I press my lips together as frustration washes over me. If Midas is nearly here, then I’ve lost my chance at trying to sneak out.

Although, honestly, that wasn’t realistic anyway. I would have to know the ins and outs of this castle really well and be very lucky to make it out without Midas finding out. Even if by some stroke of luck, I did manage to flee, it would just be a matter of time before he tracked me down. He won’t ever let me leave him.

I’m trapped. A saddle knotted in reins.

“You need to leave now,” I insist.

Much to my aggravation, Rip just looks at me, not moving an inch. “Why?”

I blink incredulously. “Because if Midas finds you in here...”

“What’s he going to do? Turn me gold?” Rip mocks with a vindictive gleam in his eye. Of course he’s smug, why wouldn’t he be? He holds Midas’s greatest secret in his hands.

Tension wraps around me. “Don’t—”

The smile he gives me is sly. “Excuse me while I slip on my other coat.”

Before I can brace myself, his power lashes out, and nausea strikes my stomach. I slump against the door frame, nearly gagging at the turmoiled magic now clawing through the air.

Rip begins to transform again, and I watch as the sharpness of his features recede. His pointed fae ears soften, his cutting cheekbones smooth out, and his gray scales disappear. The row of short spikes above his brows are gone in a blink, just as quickly as the ones on his arms and back.

As Rip fades and King Ravinger settles in, his entire body quakes. He rolls his muscled shoulders, and dark, insidious lines appear beneath the skin of his neck. They crawl up, reaching his jaw like roots searching for better soil.

I inhale, breathing through the sick feeling in my gut. But before it overwhelms me completely, his power pulls away, taking my nausea with it. Trembling, my body slumps in relief as I stare at him.

His transformation finishes, and when he opens his eyes again, the familiar black gaze is gone. Instead, I see the deep green of a rotten king’s irises.

Look away, I tell myself.