Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I wanted to ask what this room was. To know why it looked like a vault full of forbidden fortune.
I tried to blink away the illusion of a lavender-skinned possessive dragon as another plume of smoke snaked from its nose.
But…I had no energy.
No strength.
But at least I didn’t cry.
Didn’t cry.
“Pete?” Kirk appeared on the threshold, rubbing sleep from his eyes and flicking us a worried glance. His white pair of boxers didn’t hide his impressive bulge. “You guys were a while. Everything okay?”
Peter let me go.
I drifted forward like dandelion fluff on the wind.
His voice licked at my heels. “I’m worried about her.”
“Why?” I felt Kirk’s stare on me. “She looks in one piece, minus a few cuts.”
“Her body maybe, but I’m petrified that I broke her mind.”
“How would you break her mind?” Kirk choked. “Wait. Y-You didn’t touch her, did you, man? Fuck…you’re not…you don’t have feelings for her, do you? I mean, I saw the way you looked at her in the showers. I know you think it’s your responsibility to look after us all, but you never looked at any of the others like—”
“Quiet.” Peter interrupted. “It’s not like that.”
“You sure about that?” A scuffle sounded. “She speaks Hindi…same as you. That similarity seems to have caused an instantaneous bond—”
“I said quiet,” Peter hissed.
“Not until I make you see sense.” I looked over my shoulder as Kirk grabbed Peter by the elbow and growled, “You saw what they did to Macy and Sayd. The moment Vile Victor found out they were in love, he tortured the fuck out of them.”
Wrenching his arm from Kirk’s urgent fingers, Peter threw me a scowl. “I’m not falling for her. I just…feel responsible—just like you said. It’s my fault she’s like this.”
I didn’t care they spoke about me as if I wasn’t there. As if my mind truly had broken and nothing was left of me.
The numbness reached my ears, turning the volume down on everything around me, including Kirk’s and Peter’s fierce whispers.
Ignoring them, I padded closer to the baskets of glittering jewels. The dragon puffed a warning tower of smoke in my direction as I sidestepped her prickly tail and reached out to touch a moonstone ring.
A tingle of power shot into my fingertips.
I didn’t know if it was real or drug-induced.
I searched my fractured mind for memorised facts on this particular rock.
Moonstone.
Found mainly in Sri Lanka and Southern India. Supposed to be calming, connected to the moon and feminine energy with the power to manifest dreams into reality.
All my dreams are broken...
My heart wrenched.
My soul cracked.
But I didn’t cry.
Yanking my hand back, I ran my fingertips over a million other baubles and keepsakes. Garnet and emerald. Pearl and sapphire. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, cuffs, hair clips, and earrings.
More than a jewelry shop.
More than I’d ever seen.
My skin prickled as Peter appeared on my right and Kirk on my left. Kirk stayed quiet, but Peter took my hand and looped his fingers tight with mine.
Kirk sucked in a breath.
“Do you see what used to belong to you?” Peter whispered, maybe to avoid the cameras or maybe just because the witching hour demanded respectful quietness.
I blinked and met his ardent stare.
Did he mean…
No.
He couldn’t.
I looked back at the rows upon rows of gemstones. Inlaid in silver, gold, and copper.
Thousands of them.
Thousands of mementos and treasured things that once used to belong to…
I gagged and stumbled back.
My ribs shattered.
My insides tore.
But I didn’t cry.
Didn’t cry.
Peter moved with me, tucking hair behind my ear. “They used to belong to jewels like us. Others who have come and gone. They served, they disappeared, and yet their precious things from a previous life live on, tormenting us, haunting us, reminding us every goddamn day that there might only be thirty of us now, but there have been hundreds before.”
Kirk wiped his mouth. “Fuck, man. I thought you were trying to cheer her up.”
“I need her to find what’s hers. I need her to have a reaction. The sooner she snaps out of this, the sooner I can—”
“What’s going on?” Rebecca and Nancy appeared, draped in comforters from their bed, shuffling like dopey zombies in the dark. “We’ll get told off if we’re caught wandering around.”
“Then go back to sleep,” Peter snapped. “We’re coming. I just…first, I need to see if Ily can find something from home. I-I think it will help.”
“Help how?” Rebecca asked, scooping up a handful of necklaces. They pooled through her fingers with strings of gold.
“I gave her psilocybin—”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” Rebecca dropped the necklaces. “I overheard her telling Sonya that she had a bad reaction to weed once. She’s probably one of the unlucky few who don’t react well to substances.”
“Yeah, thanks for that, Bex.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately, I didn’t have that information and figured it out the hard way.”