Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

Even though I could get hurt, the thought of staying stuck in this room all day already has my pulse racing. I can’t. I just can’t be confined.

I lean further over the railing, trying to scout the best path, but then I lean too far without meaning to. My hands slip, and my center of gravity slips with it. Fear grapples my stomach as I go tipping right over, too fast to stop.

Shit!

A shriek rips out of me as I topple ass over head, and I curse at myself for my own carelessness. I squeeze my eyes closed against the plunge, but then faster than lightning, my ribbons act. They immediately thrust up and wrap around the iron railing, making my golden coat fly off as I fall.

My eyes fly open as my body jerks to a sudden halt, with another shout yanked out of my lungs. The skin at my back jolts in a painful tug as I’m left to dangle, my ribbons keeping me suspended in the air. Chest heaving, I stare at the ground beneath me—a ground that now seems much further away than I’d like.

Blood pounds in my ears from my short-lived plummet, and I swing lightly back and forth, hanging like a puppet by its strings.

The irony is not lost on me.

Straining, I try to reach up and grab my ribbons like a rope so I can pull myself back up, but on my first try, I immediately remember I have zero arm muscles because I became a lazy, complacent twit.

“Idiot,” I hiss, arms shaking as I start to lose my grip.

“Funny, I called you the same thing.”

I flinch in surprise at the voice, losing my hold on my ribbons in the process, and fall back down into my splayed puppet pose.

Not my finest hour.

My gaze immediately lands on the person standing on the ground beneath me. My favorite Wrath is smirking at me in amusement as I dangle. She has smooth ebony skin and a lithe form, hints of her strength buried beneath army leathers and a

thick winter coat. She’s got calf-high boots on and a sword hanging at her hip, and she looks up at me with her arms crossed and her booted feet planted shoulder-width apart, every bit the warrior.

“Uh. Hey, Lu,” I say with a ridiculous wave. “What are you doing?”

She arches a black brow at me as I swing back and forth. “I think the more entertaining question is what are you doing?”

I cross my arms, but then realize that makes me look even more foolish, so I let them hang back down again. “Nothing.”

Her lips twitch. “Uh-huh. Did you need help, Gildy Locks?”

“Nope. I, uh...I’ve got it handled. Don’t try to catch me or anything, okay?”

A snort escapes her. “Wasn’t going to. I want to enjoy watching you fall on your ass.”

“Thanks,” I say dryly.

With great difficulty, I crane my neck to look back at the wall. I search wildly for a solution, my eyes falling to the balcony railing below me that’s about five feet away. I blow out a breath, trying to get my hair out of my face. “Dammit.”

Lu starts laughing at my expense.

Sweat gathers on my forehead, and my spine is shooting in pain. It feels like my ribbons are going to rip right off my back if I don’t hurry up. I grind my teeth and try to concentrate as I remove a few of the ribbons so they can grab the railing of the balcony below me instead.

Except, controlling just a couple at a time is really difficult to do when I have twenty-four of the damn things and I’ve kept them hidden for most of my life and only used them to do my stupid hair.

“Idiot,” I curse myself again.

“Yep. Glad we’ve established that,” Lu calls up.

Did I say she was my favorite Wrath? She’s not. I prefer Osrik.

Slowly, I start to unravel three of them at once, but three more start to join in without permission. Then another three and another three and—

A scream tears out of my throat as I go falling again. This time, my ribbons are too tangled with one another to latch onto anything at all. A few of them attempt to go rigid and help break my fall, but I still end up face-first in a heap in the snow.