I paced the tiny cell. It was eight steps from the door to the barred window and back. The single bulb above the cot cast dim, flickering light, stretching time into an unbearable crawl.
Finally, the door screeched open, and Officer Chang entered with that same guilty look.
"Officer Chang," he introduced himself stiffly, holding out a folded prison uniform. "Miss Demare, you need to change."
I leveled him with a withering glare.
"No."
"It's protocol."
"Until someone explains the charges against me, and who authorized my arrest, I won't speak, move, or comply with a single order."
"I'm not authorized to disclose that information."
"Then fetch someone who is."
Chang gave a polite nod and left, depositing the uniform on the cot. I resumed pacing until the door burst open again. This time, Kiron stormed in.
"Change. Now." He snatched the uniform and hurled it at me.
It landed at my feet. I didn't even blink.
"No."
"I won't ask twice."
"And I won't change."
Kiron stepped toward me. Chang by the door tensed. He was apparently well acquainted with Kiron's explosive temper.
"Shall I dress you myself?" Kiron asked in a silky voice, standing uncomfortably close.
"Just try it."
He grabbed my jacket collar and yanked it down sharply. I barely kept my balance to avoid crashing to the floor.
"Captain..." Chang started, but faltered when Kiron threw him a warning glare.
"Shall I continue?"
I stared at him silently, unmoving. The suppression sigil on my neck blocked my power, but theoretically, I could attempt blood magic. There was a slim chance it might break through.
As Kiron began unlacing my dress collar, I suddenly jerked my head forward to strike him. He didn't expect it and failed to dodge in time. Turns out, headbutting someone in the face hurts like hell. Stars danced before my eyes as I staggered back a step.
But it worked as Kiron touched his split lip.
In one swift motion, before the Inquisitors could react, I swiped my finger across his bleeding mouth and brought it to my own lips.
The moment I tasted his blood, I felt a brief surge of power and control over him. I channeled energy into his body, flooding him with pain. Kiron stumbled back, his body wracked with convulsions.
Chang instantly trapped me in a paralysis circle, but it didn't sever my connection to Kiron, who still writhed in agony.
Through sheer willpower, Kiron fought through the pain. He straightened up and swung.
His palm slammed into my cheek with brutal force. I flew backward, shoulder crashing into the wooden cot against the wall. My vision blurred as a deafening bell rang in my skull. The impact shattered my concentration and my blood connection.
Kiron exhaled sharply through his nose. "You... you've just signed your own sentence."
He hauled me up by the elbow and threw me onto the cot. Chang released the paralysis circle.
"Anna Demare," Kiron declared, his voice cutting through the stale air, "you stand accused of practicing forbidden blood magic before two witnesses."
I gingerly touched my bruised cheek and shrugged. "Well... I'm already in a cell."
"Officer Chang," Kiron's furious gaze never left me, "did you witness the use of blood magic?"
Chang gave a hesitant nod. "Yes, Captain."
Kiron leaned down until his lips nearly brushed my ear. "That was reckless. Stupid," he whispered, each word dripping with venom. "Where I might have helped you before, you've now dug your own grave." Straightening abruptly, he barked: "Change. You've got five minutes."
Kiron and Chang left the cell. When Kiron returned exactly five minutes later, I remained seated, unmoved from my spot.
"Your stubbornness won't accomplish anything," he said coldly.
"I want to know the legal basis for my arrest."
"Speaking formally now, Miss Demare?" Kiron smirked. "Very well." He clasped his hands behind his back. "Anna Demare, based on available evidence and testimony, you are charged with: illegal use of blood magic; collaboration with a terrorist rebel group; concealment of documents subject to Inquisition confiscation; and assaulting an Inquisition officer in the line of duty. Twice."
"The first time, you weren't on duty. And I never collaborated with any rebels—"
Kiron's face twisted into a vicious grin. "Oh darling, do you really know so little about who you've been sharing your bed with?"
I stayed silent, glaring into his eyes. What was he implying?
"Therefore," Kiron continued in an official tone, "based on these charges, you are to be detained for further questioning and held in custody pending a decision by the Inquisition council or court. Do you understand these charges as stated?"
I said nothing. Kiron repeated the question.
"Yes, I understand."
"You will now change into prison attire and surrender all personal belongings for safekeeping."
The realization slowly dawned on me—I wouldn't be leaving this cell anytime soon. Things were far more serious than I'd anticipated. Kiron watched me intently.
"Fine," I finally relented.
Kiron left, his boot heels striking the stone floor with such force it seemed he meant to crack it open. Reluctantly, I removed my clothes and pulled on the scratchy gray pants and shirt. He returned as I was folding my garments.
"The jewelry too," he ordered.
I removed my earrings, rings, and pendant. Kiron gave me a thorough once-over before nodding in satisfaction. Taking my belongings, he departed once more.
I sank onto the cot and cradled my head in my hands. A dull throb pulsed through my skull—from the blow and the strain of the past hours. Despair crept in. I was truly imprisoned by the Inquisition now. The adrenaline that had fueled me drained away, leaving only a tight knot of anxiety in its wake.
Lying back, I closed my eyes, willing away the darkest thoughts. Sleep would have been a blessing, an escape from dwelling on what awaited me, but it refused to come. I'd nearly drifted off when the door screeched open again.
Kiron entered with deliberate slowness, like an actor taking center stage. He adjusted his uniform jacket and smiled.
"How are you finding your new accommodations? Not too humble, I hope?"
I pushed myself upright on the cot and rubbed my eyes. The way he effortlessly switched masks was both infuriating and disorienting. Who was he really?
"If you're here to put on a performance, I'm not your audience."
Kiron stepped closer, his voice deliberately husky, sending a shudder of disgust down my spine:
"Oh, but you're the leading lady." His fingers trailed lightly along the back of the chair as if checking for dust. Meeting my eyes, he continued, slightly louder: "And it seems you've forgotten your role..."
I leapt from the cot, retreating to the farthest corner in two quick steps.
"Don't come near me."
Kiron feigned hurt, spreading his hands wide.
"So cold? And here I brought you a gift." From his pocket, he produced the bracelet, thzt very same cryptex key, apparently confiscated during the search. "Your father's gift, wasn't it?"
"If you like it so much, keep it as a souvenir."
He tossed it playfully, caught it, and spun it deftly between his fingers.
"Must admit, I've grown attached."
"I demand to speak with Olivia or her father," I said sharply, steering the conversation away from his twisted game.
"Why?" He smiled, circling the cell with deliberate slowness.
Olivia's father came from a long line of lawyers. He was my best hope for navigating this legal nightmare.
"Lord Alcasar will represent me in court."
Kiron burst into genuine laughter before closing the distance between us. Looking down his nose at me, he cooed:
"Of course... if you behave."
"Do I look like a five-year-old to you to talk to me like that?" I snapped, bristling at his patronizing tone.
"Perhaps," he smirked, that infuriating grin twisting his lips.
"I think Olivia would be fascinated to see this side of you."
At the mention of Olivia, he actually took half a step back.
"Oh, my sweet, delicate Olivia. Such a kind soul. Believes I 'work tirelessly into the night, guarding the city's peace and order,'" he said with cloying softness. He looked at his fingers and clenched them into a fist. "And she's right. I do guard peace and order. In the city. In the Inquisition. But your little forest escapades hardly fit the definition of 'peace.'"
"I went hiking. To clear my head."
"Clear your head?" His smile turned razor-sharp. "Did you enjoy our little pet?"
Acid seemed to spill through my chest.
"You're using etherics?!" My voice shook.
Kiron ignored my question, circling back to his own agenda:
"Where are the documents, Anna?"
"No idea. I sent them traveling to another reality."
Suddenly, he pressed the bracelet hard against my chest. I flinched, remembering the searing pain of his last trick with it.
"Liar," he whispered, lips nearly brushing my ear. "And I hate being lied to."
I planted my fist against his shoulder, shoving hard, but he caught my wrist mid-push. Our strength clashed, unequal, as I strained against him.
"Let go!"
He laughed again, gently redirecting my hand until it pinned against the wall.
"Such fire..." he purred, his fingers tracing my palm like a fortune teller reading lines. "You're clever. Do you think I'm playing with you for sport?" His grip suddenly tightened. It was not painful, but undeniable. "No. I'm giving you a choice." His breath warmed my ear. "The documents... or we play a different game. One where someone breaks."
I jerked in his grasp, fury boiling under my skin.
"You—"
"Shhh." His whisper slithered between us. "No rush." He folded my fingers around the bracelet, his hand enveloping mine. "Keep this. For now." His thumb brushed my knuckles. "Tomorrow, I'll ask again. And if I don't like your answer..." His other hand snapped up, seizing my chin. "...we'll find far more interesting ways to spend our time."
I finally wrenched free, the bracelet clattering to the floor.
"You're a sick bastard."
Kiron bent down, picked up the bracelet, and placed it neatly on the cot beside the thin pillow.
"Perhaps. Occupational hazard, you might say." His smile didn't reach his eyes. "But I'm also your only audience now. And judge."
"Keep dreaming!" I spat. "I demand a fair trial. Or does the Inquisition condone lawless tyranny now?"
For a split second, his mask slipped—a flicker of hesitation—but he quickly schooled his features. Suddenly he crouched, as if retrieving an invisible thread.
"A trial?" His whisper burned against my ear. "You'll get your trial. But tell me, why do you think your precious Lord Alcasar's office was relocated to the west wing?"
My knees nearly buckled. Had Olivia's father switched sides to become a prosecutor?
"He'll sign your death warrant with his own hands. And Olivia..." Kiron paused to pull on his glove, "...will kiss those hands at our wedding. Though with fortunate timing..." His smile turned vicious. "...her dearest friend might even attend the ceremony."
For the first time, words failed me. If Lord Alcasar was under the Inquisition's thumb, I stood no chance. What leverage could they possibly have over the city's most staunch defender of justice?
"Goodnight, Anna. Sweet dreams... while you still can have them."
When the door clanged shut, I collapsed against the wall, utterly drained both from the blood magic and the crushing realization. And for the first time that night, I wept.