Gleam: The Plated Prisoner (Book 3)

My eyes bore into him as I wait for him to divulge.

I blink at the fierceness in his tone. I don’t think anyone has ever dared to call me boy, even when I was one. Yet I’m too damn terrified to even be bothered. I have no idea if I did more harm than good by using my power to keep her in this paused state, but I need to get her out of here. Far away, where there is no gold to grip her.

I turn and start stalking off, the others hurrying to match my step as I head for my army’s camp.

“What do you want to do, Slade?” Ry asks at my side.

My eyes harden with my resolve, only softening when they drop down to Auren’s face.

I’m going to fix her. She’s going to be alright.

I won’t accept anything else. I won’t even consider it.

Shouting voices from the front of the castle carry across the night air, making my steps quicken.

“We need to leave. Right fucking now,” I reply grimly. “Get the army back to Fourth.”

As soon as the panic abates, the survivors and witnesses are going to be talking. Accusing. Pointing fingers. They’re going to want answers and demand atonement. Because the dead can’t say what transpired in that ballroom.

But Queen Kaila can.

She and her group were in there. They saw what happened, and they saw that it was Auren who made it so.

It’s just a matter of time before they come for her.

But I’ll be fucking ready.

Her power wavers at the sudden intrusion, but the look of fear in her eyes nearly kills me.

“Forgive me,” I say again, because she’s scared of me. But she’s weak, so fucking weak, and I’m out of time.

With another push of power, I force her body to languish, even as my instincts scream that this is wrong. My own magic wars with me as I force her in a stasis between life and decay, as I make my power rot her from within. But I’m scared, so fucking scared that I could hurt her, that I could somehow do something wrong, push too hard.

“Forgive me,” I whisper for a third time, but I know she can no longer hear me. Please let this work, I implore silently. Please let her be okay.

When her aura is nothing but a wisp, she finally slumps, letting out a single, dusty breath as I catch her in my arms.

Without her consciousness to direct it, the wave of gold comes crashing to the floor. Taking a limp Auren in my arms, I run out of the archway just as a loud smash sounds. But even in the hall, more insipid gold is dropping from the ceiling and solidifying against the floor in uneven waves, nearly making me trip.

I dodge and duck, my spikes digging beneath my skin in a protective surge, wanting to come breaking out, but I grit my teeth and suppress it.

Gold floods the floor, splashing against the stairs, an unsuspecting servant crying out from somewhere behind me.

“Over here!”

I find Osrik waving me forward, and I skid to the right, trying to keep from jostling Auren too much as he leads me out.

The entire castle seems to groan, and I realize that more gold than just what was in the ballroom is rioting without Auren conscious to direct it.

No wonder she fucking drained herself. It’s like she brought every piece of gold in the castle to life.

“Out here,” Osrik grunts, just before he takes a sharp right, where a doorway is being propped open by Ryatt.

The moment we make it out, Ry lets the door slam shut, and not three seconds later, something hard slams against the door, splintering the wood. We all back up on instinct, watching as gold curls through the break. But much to my relief, it gives one last shake before it solidifies, its movement stiffening to a stop.

The crashing and crackling of the rest of Ranhold Castle dies down too, until bleak, unnatural silence bleeds through the air.

“Shit,” Lu says, letting out a low whistle.

Osrik looks down at Auren. “Is she okay?”

My stomach churns, a tic jumping in my jaw. “I don’t know.”

Shockwaves go through my Wrath, and then a hobbling Digby comes pushing past them to check on Auren. When he sees the state of her, he brings a pair of glaring eyes up to me. “You’d better fix her. You hear me, boy? Fix. Her.”

“Use your ribbons,” I urge her. They’re strong. She’s strong. She only needs to trust herself and—

A lamenting sob pours out of her mouth, eyes filling as she looks at me with something like regret. “I can’t.”

I frown, not understanding the look on her face, but Midas’s laugh heckles me.

“Oh, she didn’t tell you?” he asks smugly, mouth curved up. “She lost that privilege.”

My body goes still. Even the roots clawing at my neck seem to pause.

Midas motions down to her hand, and for the first time in all of this madness, I realize what’s tied around her wrist.

A single gold ribbon. One I know very well. One I expect to lift up and move.

Except...it doesn’t. It’s not trying to weave closer to me or shove Midas away in a protective furor. It just hangs there limply, and I know instantly that something is wrong. It’s in the lackluster color, the drooping ends. Even at rest, Auren’s ribbons are always...alive. As vibrant as she is.

And that’s when I see the severed end, the curdled drips of blood left behind.

No. No.

Something roars in my ears, and my eyes flash up to her misery-laced face, as the realization of what he’s taken from her sinks into me like a boulder. “Auren...” I rasp, my voice sounding as gutted as I feel.

As tears drip down her cheeks, my heart feels like it breaks in half.

“She’s helpless and completely at my mercy, and she will die at my hand if you force it,” Midas says, but I barely even hear it. “Ten seconds, Ravinger.”

I want to ask him what he means, but I don’t get the chance.

In the next brush of his lips against mine, his power rises up, the cloying, corrupt magic that steals the breath from my chest.

A choked noise catches in my throat as I feel something horrible rake down my insides, like poisoned air. My wet eyes go wide in shock, and I try to flinch away from him, but Slade holds me still, green eyes keeping me hostage.

My lips part on a jagged, rough cry rent from the stutter in my heart. From something insipid and withering that seems to decay the very bones in my body.

“Forgive me,” he whispers again.

I couldn’t answer him even if I wanted to. My vision decays, and in the next instant, my hold on the magic snaps with the last of my strength, like a dam bursting. All I feel before I black out is a clash of metal and rot, of gold and black colliding together in a rush of heat and dust.

The last thing I hear is Slade’s voice from that moment in the library.

We all have our edge, Auren. One day, you’re going to find where yours is.

I found it, I want to tell him.

I found my edge.

The question is, did I fall, or did I fly?

a terrified gasp flooding from my surging chest.

I barely have the might to send it back, but more is advancing, a ripple going through the floor, edging nearer. I have no idea where everyone else is, but terror grips my chest. What if I killed the Wrath, or Digby, or innocents? And yet, that’s what is going to happen, because my control is fading fast.

“It’s going to hurt you!” I cry, hands now scrabbling to push him away. “Go, Slade, I can’t...I can’t hold it back much longer, and I don’t know how to stop it!”

Hands land on my cheeks, cupping my face, and my eyes spring open, though I hadn’t realized I’d even closed them.

“Look at me.”

Frightened eyes lock onto him. “You have to leave.”

But the stubborn male shakes his head. “I already told you. If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”

The echo of his previous words brings a sob up my throat as exhausted, terrified tears track down my face.

How quickly this astonishing power turned so disastrous. How quickly it overwhelmed me.

I can’t do what he’s saying. I’ve never had good control over my magic, and now, it’s running rampant, its will trying to buckle my own.

“Auren, your aura is fading fast, you have to let go!” he pleads.

There’s alarmed fear in his eyes now, and his aura lurches around me, like it’s trying to grasp onto my own to keep it from fading. I’ve never seen him look afraid before, and the sight of it makes me tremble.

I can feel myself draining, but if I let it go like he wants me to, then the tentative tether I have on the gold will give way. It will unleash on him and anyone else in its path before it settles, and I can’t let that happen. I made the gold unleash with the heart of a beast, and now, its single-minded will is to destroy.

“Leave. Please,” I beg.

I shudder with the effect of the drain, of trying to hold onto this power that’s overtaken every part of me.

My vision blacks out, and I slump, ears roaring, though I don’t know if that’s the magic overloading my veins, or my galloping pulse. There’s a tug through my gut, like my very life-force is being pulled on, and it tears a ragged breath from my panting chest.

I can hold it. I will hold it, until he’s out of harm’s way, for as long as my exhaustion can stand it.

My eyes are heavy, my breathing labored. Sweat drips down my neck and stings the jagged cuts of my ribbons, and I feel something in me sinking.

I’m dying.

“Dammit, Auren, you don’t have time. Let go!” Slade roars.

I open my mouth to tell him I can’t, but all that comes out is a pitiful whimper.

Then, he suddenly yanks my face forward and presses his lips against mine. The shock of it stuns me for a moment, and my faltering hold on the magic wavers.

Slade pulls back, something pained in his eyes. “Forgive me,” he breathes against my mouth.

“You’re alright now. You don’t need it,” he vows, and despite the anxiety running through me, his voice is deep and soothing, calling to another part of me, a part buried beneath the anger.

But my beast fights against it. She doesn’t want to let go, though every second that I hold the gold makes my strength wane, my limbs heavy and numbed.

“I want everyone to hurt like I hurt,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You punished the one who mattered.”

Something wars inside of me. A weight is dragging me down as my magic demands more. I let some of the gold behind me lope down and seep through the archway. I let more break the windows, yank on the pillars. I let it climb the walls of Ranhold, following the screams and running footsteps, searching to swallow…

More, it whispers. More.

But he comes forward in another bold step, interrupting my concentration, distracting my magic’s reach. He stands right in front of me, his aura curling around me as he takes up my sight, my hearing, my smell. I can’t help but breathe him in, the metallic storm clearing from my nostrils, the scent of wood and soil and bitter chocolate filling me instead.

He touches my cheek, lets his rough hand skate over my skin. “Come back to me, Goldfinch.”

I shudder, and his touch yanks at my awareness, splitting away from the anger driving me. My eyes widen, vision clearing from the haze. “Slade…?”

He nods. “That’s right, baby. Let the magic go.”

I swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of the power, how it’s crushing me.

My legs start to give out, but Slade catches me before I fall, though his hands land on my back, making me cry out in pain and yank away from him.

“Oh goddess...” I stagger, but it’s not from the raw ache of my ribbons, it’s the pressure of the power bearing down on me. “I can’t!” My voice cracks out, lands in a heap as my eyes fill with panicked tears. “I don’t know how to let go!”

A curse flies from Slade’s mouth for a moment before he grabs my arms to hold me. “Breathe, Auren,” he commands.

My eyes are wild, bouncing around the ballroom, at the gold that suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me. “I can’t control it, I can’t—”

“You can,” he growls in my face, the coils of his own power twisting like roots along his jaw. “Try, Auren. It’s your power, it answers to you.”

But he’s wrong. This isn’t my power at all. This is something born from inside of me, from the raging anger I held in too long.

My entire body shakes from the crushing weight of it, and all around me, the gold starts to boil and hiss, and it takes everything in me to hold it back. Even still, it slinks forward, creeping, pushing the boundaries. My heart leaps into my throat when I see it inching around Slade and trying to latch onto his feet. I shoot my hand forward to direct it away,

The angry monster in me still wants to punish. To kill. To wipe out everyone and anyone who stood by and let me suffer. As I look around at this room that now ebbs and flows by my calling, a destructive temptation ripples across the floor, and I realize something.

Instead of being afraid of the world, I could make the whole damn world afraid of me.

With a devilish tilt of my lips, I stride forward, bringing the gold with me like the swell of a sea. But it lugs now, a heavy weight that makes my breath heave, sweat breaking out upon my brow. With great strain, I pull at the magic, pushing past the sudden surge of exhaustion as I head for the archway.

I can’t stop now. I want to swallow this castle whole, trap everyone in it. Let them be smothered in their own covetous greed. I want to let my power scour the land, clear across the Barrens, right back to Highbell. I’ll let it devour everything in our path, and I’ll—

Someone steps into my path.

A gilded wave pauses behind me, risen up into the curl of a punishing crest, my hands shaking with the effort to hold it.

The creature in me blinks, snapping at the interruption, but the crackling anger falters, because we recognize him. Recognize the dark aura of power that arcs around him like smoke.

“Goldfinch, can you hear me?” he asks gently.

My head cocks, though I don’t answer. Gold weighs down my bones and slouches my shoulders as I struggle to take in a full breath.

The male steps forward, an inky black form against the shine I’ve wrought. “Auren, you can let go now.”

My brow furrows. Let go?

I don’t want to let go. I want to continue to rage. I want to take my gold that was stolen from me, and punish everyone in my path. I want to be the monster that’s been held back for far too long.

The male takes another step, and my beast screeches at him, though he doesn’t seem deterred. He should be running away from us, should be terrified like everyone else, but instead, he keeps coming, closer and closer, until he stands just a foot away. “You need to let go, baby. You’re draining yourself.”

My mouth drops into a frown.

“Draining?”

Eyes so dark green they look black are locked on my face, caressing over my own gaze. “Yes,” he says quietly. “You need to drop the magic before you hurt yourself.”

My back bristles. “My gold won’t hurt me.”

“It already is.” He tips his head, and I look down, though I don’t see anything amiss.

“Your aura is fading,” he tells me. “You can’t see it, but I can. I need you to breathe and let go of your power.”

Panic surges up in me. If I let go of my power, I’ll be weak again. Helpless.

Fury sparks in my eyes, and the gold flexes behind me like fingers clenching into a fist. “No.”

He balks, the rest of the blood in his face draining away.

I move my palm up and then drag my finger against the crown still resting on his head.

He may wear the crown, but I was the one who made it gold.

With just a thought, I make the sharp ends of each spire curve. The gold crown bends in a bow to me, in a nod of who’s truly in power. He thrashes as it clutches him like claws, digging in just enough to make small droplets of blood bead against his forehead.

My gaze bounces between his eyes, soaking up the fear there, soaking up this moment as my gold soaks up everything else.

Then, I lean in and whisper, “Goodbye, Midas.” I place my lips against his cheek, because he defeated me with a kiss, so why shouldn’t I do the same to him?

He chokes with a sob, or maybe it’s a curse. I don’t know and I never will, because the second my lips lift from his skin, a gilt kiss is already there imprinted on the spot. Golden fragments, as fine as powder, that I pulled from the air and left to glint against his cheek.

Then, I pat the spot with my finger.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Five times—not six.

With a smirk, I back away as he thrashes, but my magic already has a hold on him. The hooked fingers of the wall clutch him, the gleaming spot I left on his cheek moving, searching, slinking over his face before it wraps down his throat, a hard edge cutting into the spot where he’d held a blade to mine.

He fights it, oh, he fights it.

I make him feel every inch of it as it devours him whole. Because with everything he’s revealed, everything he’s done, this is what he deserves. He let gold consume him a long time ago. I’m just letting it finish the job.

After a handful of breaths, the liquid metal begins to dribble out of his mouth, bleeding from his eyes, more drops falling out of his nose.

The gold he coveted so much, the gold he loved more than anything else, eats him alive.

When it has a hold of his heart, I let it finish him, stealing his last beat. I watch the last of his fight, the last of his life, leave his body like water draining out, until there’s nothing left of him.

He’s dead.

Dead, dead, dead.

The gold throughout the castle shudders.

Then, with a sweep of my hand, I encase his body completely, dark satisfaction lifting my lips. I turn away from his shocked, unmoving face, at the chest that no longer rises, at his fused mouth, his silver tongue now swallowed by my gold.

I take a breath, feeling that my beast is gratified.

...Gratified, but not appeased.

Because my anger isn’t quenched. My power bubbles and twists, slinking like lava, pushing me to keep going, demanding more.

The ballroom has turned into a veritable sea of livid gold waves ready to flood the world.

“Au-Auren...”

My beast and I turn, eyes gleaming as we lock onto Midas, who’s stuck against the wall, body half frozen into it, and my mouth tips up into a vicious smile that’s not my own.

The second he held that blade to my throat, I knew I didn’t just want to escape him. I wanted to destroy him.

His eyes are wild as a golden grasp of fingers holds him in place, his body suspended. He’s the one who’s well and truly helpless.

“Let me go, Auren,” he pleads, his voice high-pitched as he struggles. “You don’t want to do this.”

I feel my head tilt, feel my creature blink. “Oh, but I do.”

My voice singes, landing against his ear and making him twitch with the burn.

“Auren. Precious...”

A cruel, fiery laugh sears my throat. “I’m not your Precious.”

I stand before the man who has done nothing but use me, lie to me, manipulate me, threaten me, and abuse me for over ten years. I look at him, and hate looks with me.

He flinches as I lift my hand and place it against his cheek, letting the ruined strip of my ribbon brush against his skin. I lean in close so that my voice can heat his face, so that he can look me in the eye and see the fury searing my vision