Kapitel 3: 365 Days Of Darkness

365 Days.

"Happy Birthday Selene." She scribbled on the wall. She needed to make sure she could still read and write. Also to make sure she had not lost her voice. After being in darkness for the past fifty days for killing a guard, she needed to be sure.

Her body ached from the countless floggings, bruises blooming like dark flowers across her back and shoulders.

"Get up, assassin," a guard barked.

Selene didn't flinch.

She'd learned not to react, not to give them the satisfaction. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, her shackles dragging across the stone as she stood. The iron cuffs on her wrists were heavy, digging into her skin, her fingers were calloused from the constant mining of irons in the iron keep.

The guard sneered as he stepped into the cell. "Didn't you hear me? It's time for your daily beating."

"Charming as always," Selene muttered under her breath. "As a lady, I have to take my time in standing up."

The guard's hand shot out, slamming into her shoulder and shoving her toward the door. "Lady my ass. You've got a mouth on you for someone who can't even stand straight."

"I'm still standing, aren't I? You should see the other guy, he is six feet under," she shot back, she smirked. "You really should change the fuel of the demons you put in here to torment me. They seem to be quiet these days."

The man sneered, making her wink.

His grip tightened painfully, but she forced herself to stay silent.

She wasn't here to make friends.

She was here to survive.

Every day in Ironkeep was a fight to hold onto the smallest shred of herself. They had put her in the dark cell with little water and little food. She was nothing but skin and bones.

The soft skin and sexy body she once was praise for was gone. Her red hair, had been cut short multiple times was caked with mud. They'd taken everything else—her freedom, her family, her dignity—but they hadn't broken her.

Even the demons that were said to torment people in the iron keep ran away from her cold stare.

The walk to the flogging post was one she had made countless times, but it never became easier.

The path wound through the deepest, coldest parts of the prison, where the stone walls pressed in, trapping her in a place that felt like the underworld itself. She could hear the groans of other prisoners, the distant echoes of madness creeping through the iron bars.

Their screams. Some were probably dead and would be fed to the dogs. The place smelled of rot and death.

"Why don't you just stay down, assassin?" another guard called as they passed. "No one escapes Ironkeep."

"I don't plan to stay here forever," Selene muttered under her breath, though the guards laughed.

As they reached the courtyard, the sharp sting of the morning air hit her like a slap. The whipping post stood in the center, surrounded by a circle of guards who watched with twisted amusement. She had escaped once—briefly, nearly making it to the outer walls before they'd dragged her back.

The price for that escape attempt had been brutal: flogged until her back was a mess of open wounds, a nice prison mate had brought some ointment. A thief from the South, who helped the guards with healing balms.

But was killed after he helped her.

They gave her his head the next day to remind her that indeed she was alone.

"Same routine as always, Draven," the captain drawled, stepping forward with the whip coiled in his hand. "Maybe this time you'll learn."

"Maybe this time you'll learn to swing that thing properly," Selene replied coolly, her eyes narrowed.

The captain's face darkened. He grabbed the back of her shirt, tearing the fabric down to reveal her scarred back. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself not to react to the cold air against her exposed skin.

"Ten lashes for yesterday's insolence," he growled. "Maybe you'll stop trying to escape now."

The first lash struck with a crack that echoed through the courtyard. Selene's body jerked involuntarily, but she refused to cry out.

She clenched on her jaw, drawing blood into her mouth.

Each lash tore at her skin, reopening old wounds, but she bit down on her lip, focusing on the rhythm of her heartbeat. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

After the tenth lash, the captain stepped back, breathing hard. "Still standing, I see."

"Still standing," she rasped, her voice raw from holding back the pain.

"Stubborn wrench," he muttered, tossing the bloody whip aside. "Get her back to her cell."

As the guards dragged her back through the winding corridors of Ironkeep, Selene's thoughts drifted. 365 days. That was how long she had been locked in this hellhole.

Ironkeep was the most fortified prison in the kingdom—deep within the mountains, surrounded by enchanted iron that suppressed magic.

Not like she had any.

No one had ever escaped, at least not alive. They all died here.

They were used to keep on mining the kingdom greatest source of income. Iron. To toll with little to no food, so the rich could remain in their homes and eat to their fill.

How unbalanced the world is.

She'd made it almost to the edge last time, slipping through the cracks, using her skills as an assassin to navigate the shadows.

But the guards had caught her before she could make the final leap over the walls. After that, they'd doubled the guard, added more chains to her cell. They weren't taking any more chances with her.

The guards shoved her roughly into the cell, slamming the door shut behind her. She collapsed to the floor, her back throbbing, her breath coming in short, painful gasps.

"I'll get out of here," she whispered to herself. "I'll escape."

The door clanged open again, and this time, the heavy footsteps that followed were different. Softer, more deliberate.

Selene didn't lift her head, but she knew someone important had entered. She could feel the shift in the air, the tension.

"You're causing quite the stir," a smooth voice said from the doorway.

Selene froze.

That voice was too refined, too polished for a place like Ironkeep.

Too different from the happiness derived soldiers.

Slowly, she raised her head to see a tall figure standing just beyond the bars. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his sharp, chiseled face. His green eyes looking around the cell, his lips curled in disgust.

He was dressed in black and silver, a cloak draped over one shoulder—ornate, luxurious.

The prince.

She had heard the rumors, but she hadn't expected him to visit. Not here, not in this filthy, forgotten place.

"Prince Kade Blackthorn," she rasped, her voice thick with sarcasm. "I thought the royal family preferred to stay far away from the likes of us."

His green eyes glinted with amusement as he stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. "I had to see for myself if the rumors were true. The infamous Selene Draven, the Nightshade Guild's deadliest assassin, reduced to nothing more than a chained dog."

Selene forced herself to sit up, ignoring the pain that shot through her spine. She met his gaze with a soft smile, "Be careful, a chained dog can still bite."

"For now," he replied smoothly, eyeing her like a predator assessing its prey. "You're quite the spectacle, you know. Everyone praised the Selene Draven who was the greatest assasin of all. Took down an entire kingdom for my father. No one had seen her face, she was always wearing a mask. They said she was beautiful, they said she was dangerous. But no one knew until one night she was taken from her home showing her disgraceful beautiful face after killing her entire family. The same ones she claimed she fought for."

"I didn't kill my family," Selene growled, her fists clenching at her sides. "I was framed."

"Of course you were," Kade said with a smirk. "But that's not why I'm here. You've escaped once before, almost made it out."

She narrowed her eyes. "What of it?"

Kade crouched down, his face inches from the iron bars. "I want to know how you did it."

Selene's lips curled into a bitter smile. "Why? Looking for tips?"

His gaze hardened. "Do not toy with me, Selene. I have no patience for games."

"And I have no patience for princes," she snapped back, her voice cold. "If you're here for answers, you're wasting your time."

Kade stood, his eyes flickering with something darker, more dangerous. "You're playing a very dangerous game, Selene. I suggest you choose your words carefully. Or the next time you're flogged, it won't be ten lashes. It'll be fifty."

"I've endured worse," she spat.

He smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "I don't doubt that. But remember this: the only way you're leaving Ironkeep is in chains or in a coffin. So if you want to leave in chains…but given an opportunity to leave those chains you better speak."

Selene frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Answer my question and I would let you know."