All the air in my lungs dissolves like that doorknob did, and my body freezes in fear. He steps in almost boredly, without even squinting in the dim light, as if his eyes don’t need to adjust to the dark.

Maybe that’s because darkness lurks within him already.

Walking forward, he scans the room methodically. He’s wearing neat black leathers with a high collar shirt, and a barbed crown of branches sits proudly on his head. They look withered, petrified, like they died long ago and then hardened in a molded polish.

He stops in the shadows, a few feet away from my cage, but I don’t need him closer to see how his gaze hooks onto me.

His are deep green eyes, like rich moss right before it’s about to turn brown. Life, right before death. Richness, right before rot.

But it’s the markings on his face that I can’t stop staring at. They rise out of his collar, trailing up his neck, curling over his jaw, like roots searching for soil. Like veins come loose from a poisoned heart.

As I watch, they move, curling and writhing, like something sinister is contained in those insidious markings.

He stands there, and my eyes warily look at the doorway, but no guards are gathered there. It’s as silent and heavy as death.

“Did you kill them?” I ask through labored breaths.

He gives me a shrug of his proud, unbothered shoulder. “They were in my way.”

My heart falls in fear. He killed all of them within seconds.

“Do you know who I am?” he asks, his voice a low rumble that makes me shake.

I swallow hard. “King Ravinger.”

He hums, and my mind races with why he’s here, why he’s come. I thought I’d escaped him, but I should’ve known that trade-off was too simple, too easy.

He doesn’t seem at all nervous that King Midas might find him here. In fact, I suspect he’d welcome an excuse for the confrontation.

The firelight bathes his crown in vibrant orange, like autumn to a leaf. His black hair is somewhat creased, while a shadow clings to the jaw of his slightly gray-toned face. He’s younger than I thought he would be, but no less terrifying.

“So, this is where King Midas keeps his famous gold-touched favored.” Even with the dark distance between us, I see him studying me from bottom to top. “You really do look like a caged Goldfinch. Shame. You don’t belong in there at all.”

Eyes widening, my heart pounds in my chest, thrumming with a sharp hurt. Rip told him. Rip told his king his nickname for me. And the way Ravinger repeated it makes it sound crude, almost mocking.

Is that what Rip did? Mock me when he spoke to his king?

Too much emotion rises up inside of me, making me want to scream again.

I find myself straightening up and tearing off my feather coat in a blink. I step out of the cage and throw it at him through the broken doorway. “There. You can give that to Rip,” I say with a sneer as soon as his hand shoots out to catch it. “Tell him I’m not his little Goldfinch that he can mock behind my back.”

His eyes look down at the feathers, and just then, I realize my mistake.

Shit.

I freeze, hoping maybe he won’t notice.

After a moment, his hands still, and then Ravinger lifts the coat up with the pinch of his fingers. The light of the lantern makes it shimmer, and my hope plummets right through my toes.

“Now, this is interesting, isn’t it?” he purrs.

I feel the blood drain from my face as he turns the coat inside out, revealing the truth within.

Lined throughout the inside, a gold glint shines.

A nefarious smile spreads over his face as he looks back at me, but then he laughs, and that’s so much worse. His haunting, gravelly chuckle boasts from his lips and seems to rope around me, holding me captive.

“I must admit, I’m not often surprised,” he muses, rubbing the hidden gold fabric. “But this surprises me.”

Tags: Raven Kennedy The Plated Prisoner Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net