There were no windows.
No escape.
They—the person whose body I was inside—shivered uncontrollably.
Somehow, I was aware of the person’s emotions, but could still have separate thoughts.
It was overwhelming and disorienting.
Eight men stood in a circle around them in matching uniforms, and for some reason, I recognized the insignia as that of the fae guard. I knew, without reason, that I was in the grand basement of the fae palace.
The guards stepped closer, caging the person in so there was nowhere to go.
For a second, I was distracted by the delicate pale arms that trembled as they held them up because they were so different from my dark, bronze muscled limbs.
The waves of terror streaking through them were wholly unfamiliar.
I’d never experience fear like this.
A guard reached out and slammed the toe of his thick black boot into the person’s side, and they gasped at the sharp sting. Their fragile frame curled up on the marble floor. Their joints ached with growing pains.
They were all gangly limbs and bones.
The person was young.
Scared.
Weak.
Their anxiety swelled as they dragged fragile forearms across the floor and tried to hoist themselves up.
A guard slammed a boot down on their spine, and they collapsed.
A high-pitched whimper escaped their lips.
Indignation flared in my chest because my gut was telling me the person being kicked was young. These men were pathetic cowards bullying a child.
Pressure burned behind their eyes, but no tears fell.
Their bravery impressed me.
Few children could be surrounded by so much adult cruelty and hold themselves together, and the vitriol wafting off the guards was staggering.
They loathed this child.
Another kick sent them sprawling back into a guard’s leg, but instead of crying, the child gritted their teeth and tried to stand up. They didn’t complain or break down even as blind terror was coursing through them.
They were resilient.
Brave.
Shivers racked through their unclothed frame, and their teeth chattered.
The experience was bizarre because I’d never been cold a day in my life. Yet this child was plagued with bone-freezing chills.
No one else in the room appeared to be cold.
Suddenly, all the guards took a big step back and opened the circle wider. There was more space around them to flee, and it should have been a good thing, but the child started to hyperventilate.
Something was very wrong.
They were paralyzed with noxious panic.
A distant part of me recognized I could escape this nightmare if I wanted to; all I had to do was wake myself up.
Curiosity had me consciously trying to stay asleep.
I wanted to know what in the sun-god-damned realms was going on. I wanted to know who these people were.
It felt important.
High heels tapped loudly against marble, and a woman approached in a long gossamer dress composed of rare silk webs. She was stunningly beautiful with an unusual coloring—blue hair and eyes.
The child’s terror peaked.
My heart plummeted.
The woman’s voice was frosty as she said, “Your tutors have told me you were slacking in your lesson today. Is that true?”
There was something off about the woman’s expression, like she was just mimicking emotions.
Fear seized the child, and they tried to crawl away.
They needed to escape.
It was a life-or-death situation.
A soldier’s boot slammed down across the child’s back and halted their progress. A crack echoed in the cavernous space, signaling something had broken.
Air left the child’s fragile lungs in a loud oomph, and they whimpered on the floor.
The guards laughed.
I wanted to rip their spines. From the child’s thoughts, they were innocent. Young. Helpless. They didn’t understand why this was happening to them.
The fae guards were monsters, and the child viewed the woman as the worst of them all. Even with pain radiating from the broken bone in their back, the child was more afraid of the beautiful woman.
Their every thought was consumed with escaping her.
The child stuttered desperately, “I-I-I just f-forgot one l-l-line from a thousand-page book. I’m not slacking, Mother.” The voice was soft and feminine, and I jolted as I realized I was in the body of a young girl.
The sinking sensation became a plummet, and rage burned brighter inside me.
“Lies!” the woman screamed, and her pleasant expression dropped. Mania shone in her wide, glassy eyes as she smiled wider.
The girl reeled back and begged, “No, Mother. I promise I’ll be better. Please don’t. I promise. Please listen to—”