Gleam (The Plated Prisoner 3)

“I was!”

And look where that got me.

Midas shakes his head in disgust. “You’re lucky you’re indispensable to me, Auren,” he says, tone warped with a warning that bows between us.

Wrenching out of his hold, I stumble back, my shoulder hitting the wall. My body is suddenly burning hot, my vision murky, bogged down by a fog that isn’t there.

“What are you going to do to Mist?” I demand. “Are you going to let your new betrothed kill her?” My voice echoes, bounces off the walls—or is that just happening in my ears?

He narrows his eyes. “All you need to focus on now is how your actions have affected this man.”

With acid crawling up my throat, I look back at Digby, my vision swaying. Like walking across a capsizing ship, I try to get to him. I unravel my ribbons so I can drag him out of here, but I trip over them, knees landing on the hard ground as I cry out from the impact. Bursts of color explode in my vision, my limbs zinging with electric pulses.

On my knees, I lean toward my guard, my hands coming up to gently shake his shoulder. “Digby, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

I shake him a little more, but I’m so terrified of hurting him more than he already is. “Digby, wake up!” Panic comes in the lash of my voice and the crack of my jaw.

A horribly hot wave washes over me, making me feel strange, growing worse when the dizziness strikes me again.

And that’s when I realize...

“Something’s wrong.”

Palpitations thrum erratically against my ribs like an off-tempo beat. I can taste the flaring light that’s prisming my vision, and my body keeps flushing with this uncomfortable heat. This isn’t just me feeling power-drained. This isn’t just shock from seeing the state of Digby.

Something is very, very wrong.

Midas comes around to stand in front of me, his shadow oppressive. “I’m sure you’re feeling strange, but you’ll get used to it.”

“What do you mean?” Slurred words, heavy lids. “What did you do?”

“It’s just the effect of the dew. You must be reacting poorly since it’s your first time, especially since you’re depleted. I made sure you had quite a high dose.”

Horror crashes over me.

A gasp tears from my lips, ragged fear leaking out.

I’m choppy and uneven, snatched up in the blades of a water mill, yanked from the depths just to be flipped over and dropped back down again.

I struggle to get to my feet, using the edge of Digby’s cot to pull myself up. “You...you drugged me?”

I start to gag, like my mind is trying to jumpstart my body into dispelling the dew he slipped into me, but I know it’s far too late for that. I feel it everywhere, from my tingling toes to my sparkling vision.

“I’ve tried everything to get through to you. It’s partly my fault for being too busy to deal with you sooner, but now I’ll have things well in hand.”

“You fucking bastard!” I lob back, pure fury straightening me up, the ends of my ribbons wobbling as they try to help me stay upright.

Midas comes nearer and places an unyielding grip on my quaking chin. “Just breathe through it, Precious. Stop fighting it. The dew will make you feel good if you just relax.”

Make me feel good.

Flashbacks of visiting the saddle wing for the first time come rushing forward. I remember the bloodshot eyes and giggles. The languid bodies and carnal craving.

Oh goddess...

My eyes squeeze shut, prickles of tears crushed in the corners, left to leave me sodden and stuck. That horrible heat flushes across my skin again, and I groan, not in pleasure, but immeasurable dismay, because this can’t be happening. I can’t let this horrible drug make me feel lust toward him.