But this room was a prison just like her room at the Clarkson Institute and the actual prison cell she’d occupied before Lochlan showed up.
She sniffed the sleeping gown she’d been wearing since that first night and wrinkled her nose. Her hair was matted across the back of her head.
And still, the storm outside raged on, never ending, never quieting.
Lying on her bed, she rested her head on the pillow and tried to summon some kind of sadness or fear or guilt. Just… something.
It didn’t come.
“I want to go home,” she whispered to herself. She wanted to return to a mom who gave up on her, a dad who didn’t understand her, and classmates who ridiculed her.
Yet, that desire for normalcy was an abstract feeling, not one she could grasp or hold on to. It was always just out of reach.
“I hate you, Griff whatever-your-last-name-is.”
Even those words had no power behind them.
Wherever she went in life, she was a prisoner, held down by her circumstances. The world she’d known didn’t exist for her anymore, yet neither did this one. It couldn’t.
So, why had nothing ever felt more real?
In this world that was nothing more than a fairytale, why did her prison hurt more than it had before?
Her appetite gone after so many days in the same room, Brea knocked the plate from Leith’s hands the moment he appeared.
“I can’t eat any more of that stupid fruit.” For the first time in days, her anger returned in small waves.
Calmly, Leith bent to clean up the mess, and Brea saw her chance. She darted past him into the main room, searching for a way out. Lunging for the front door, Brea stumbled into a world recovering from the storms.
A spotted horse lifted its head to regard her, and she met familiar brown eyes. No, not familiar because she knew the animal, but only because horses were one of the few creatures she understood, and riding was one of the few activities she’d ever been good at.
Considering her options, she looked from the horse to the path leading away from the cottage. Making a quick decision, she climbed over the low stone wall and approached the horse.
“I’m a friend,” she whispered. “Please help me get out of here.”
The horse stamped its foot and neighed.
“Stop!” Leith yelled.
As if that word held power, Brea’s limbs immobilized, stuck in a current that threatened to drag her under.
She tried to free herself, to get away, but the servant approached with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Brea, but I have orders. I can’t let you leave.”
“You can’t keep me locked away forever!” she screamed. “What does Griff want from me?”
His expression told her he wanted to answer, or maybe even that he wanted to let her go. Instead, he drew a circle in the air with his hand, and Brea’s entire body turned, moving closer to the house.
“I cannot disobey orders.” He lowered his gaze. “Not even for you.”
What did that mean? She tried to ask, but her lips wouldn’t move as the invisible force pulled her back into the room she thought she’d escaped. Leith stood looking at her as the door shut, but he didn’t say another word.
The power released Brea, and she slumped against the door. Banging a fist weakly against the wood, she called out. “Please. Let me go.” Her knees gave out and she sank to the hard floor. “Please.”
A rattle sounded, but the door didn’t open. Instead, a slot appeared at its base and a new plate of fruit slid through the opening. Brea lowered herself to her side and picked at the fruit, knowing it wouldn’t fill the emptiness inside her.
During her long nights locked up at the Clarkson Institute, she’d known there was someone waiting for her to get out, someone who cared.
Now, she was totally and utterly alone.
The only person left to save her was herself.
If this was a fairytale, Brea Robinson had to be both the damsel and the knight, because there was no one left to come for her.
Chapter Five
It was the fruit.
It had to be. That was the only thing that made sense. Over the last several days since her escape attempt, the only thing Brea looked forward to were the Gelsi berries Leith brought her at every meal. The tart fruit was good, but it wasn't that good. She shouldn't crave it like she did. She was never particularly hungry after those first few days, but Brea needed those berries. Her body trembled whenever Leith was late.
Brea had grown to like the numb feeling she'd experienced since her latest incarceration. The distant, detached feeling that made her so sleepy she didn't have the energy to contemplate her situation. Crazy. Not crazy. It didn't matter.
Brea rolled onto her side, thinking about getting up. Leith would be here soon with her breakfast. It was the highlight of her morning. After, she'd go back to sleep until lunch. Unless she didn't eat the Gelsi berries today. She'd told herself yesterday she wouldn't eat them. Or was that the day before?
"That's different." She sat up, blinking to make sure she wasn't seeing things. Not like that would be unusual for Brea Robinson, but the door appeared to be open. "Leith?" she whispered, stumbling across the room to the doorway and peeking into the hall. No one was in the hall outside her door.
Still wearing her soiled sleeping gown, Brea crept into the front room and bolted for the door when she found no one waiting to haul her back to her cell. She didn't waste a moment this time. Brea ran across the yard, not even bothering with the horse. She wasn't going to screw this up again.
The too-green grass was like a plush carpet beneath her feet. Brea, weak from her days of sleeping too much, stumbled into the cover of the forest, gasping for breath. Casting a look back at the cottage, she saw that still no one followed her. It was odd, but she wasn't sticking around long enough to find out why.
Brea’s feet skimmed over moss-covered stones and massive tree roots along the pathway through the woods. She'd never seen such a forest, bursting with energy like a living, breathing thing, watching over her.
"Now, you're really losing it, Brea."
Sunlight dappled the ground through the tall, sweeping branches above. Species of trees she couldn't remember ever seeing before flourished in this fairytale forest. Exotic blooms in a riot of colors sprouted from every available surface. There was so much to see, Brea didn’t know where to look first. It was breathtaking. Still, she watched over her shoulder. As beautiful as it was, the forest gave her a creepy vibe. Like if she looked under the surface, she’d find something dark and twisted waiting to strike. It was eerily quiet. It took her a while to figure it out. There were no birds singing in the trees. The only sound in the forest was the wind whistling through the branches.
After all she’d experienced in the last few days, Brea no longer trusted anything she saw. She no longer trusted anyone, least of all herself. She had no idea where she was going. She only knew she needed to get away from her jailor and his freaky fruit long enough to clear her head and make a plan.
With that thought in mind, she kept going, following the pathway through the forest. She had no doubt Leith and Griff could track her and drag her back, but she had to try.
Finally stumbling from the forest, Brea found herself in a clearing beside a beautiful lake. Beautiful was such an arbitrary word to describe what she saw. If the forest was breathtaking, then the lake was out of this world. A laugh bubbled up inside her at that thought. She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep her laughter in check. Clearly, she wasn’t in Kansas anymore.