Chapter 166 Chapter 166

Chapter 166 Chapter 166

CRYSTAL’S POv
Pain.
It was the very first thing I knew—sharp, throbbing, spreading outward from the back of my head in slow, heavy pulses that matched every beat of my heart. It felt as though someone had taken a hammer to my skull and kept striking until something had cracked.

Or maybe it was just me over exaggerating, even though that was the only way I could express how I was feeling right now.

A groan escaped my lips before I could clamp them shut.

“…Ugh…”

I tried to lift my hand to press against the ache, but my arm felt heavy, leaden, like it belonged to someone else. The world spun behind my closed eyelids, rolling and swaying, and nausea rose sharp and bitter in my throat; it was almost unbearable. But I swallowed hard, fighting it back, and forced myself to remember what the hell even happened.
I remembered Asher. How he looked like he wanted to take me, but didn't.

I remembered how he ran into the woods, and I chased after.
Running.
Calling his name until my throat was raw.
Then I came upon a clearing because I thought they would lead me back to Asher. Except...it hadn't been Asher.

No. It was something...or... someone else who'd been there, and before I could make sense of it all, something hard struck me on the back of my head.
My eyes flew open at that exact memory, and my heart jumped into my throat.
I was met with darkness.
Not the soft, dappled dark of the forest beneath trees. This was different. Enclosed. Heavy. Stale. And familiar in the worst possible ways.

"No. No, no, no, no,no." I cried. I couldn't be back in that place. I couldn't be back in the slave establishment just after escaping it.

Fear erupted in my heart as the darkness pressed in from every side, thick and suffocating, and the air smelled of damp stone, mildew, rusted iron, and something else—old blood, and something acrid, like smoke that had been trapped for years.

I scrambled to my feet. Or at least I tried to do so; unfortunately, I soon realised why my hands and feet felt heavy. It was because I was chained. Bound like a common animal.

"Aahhh!!" I screamed. "NO! Somebody help me!" I cried out, but nobody came.

I blinked hard, once, twice, waiting for my vision to clear, and slowly shapes began to emerge from the gloom. Rough stone walls, damp and streaked with dark patches. A low ceiling, crisscrossed with heavy beams that looked as though they might collapse at any moment.
It looked like a cellar.
Or worse.
A dungeon.
Cold shot through me, sharp and violent, and I pulled a little bit too hard, and pain exploded through my skull.
“Ah!” My cry cracked, hand flying to the back of my head. My fingers came away sticky and warm. Blood. Not a lot, but enough to smear dark against my pale skin. Tears prickled my eyes, and I wondered how this had happened. How did I end up in this place again?

“…HELLO!…” My voice sounded thin, breathless, swallowed almost entirely by the silence of the room. I looked around, turning slowly despite the dizziness. "IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!"
My voice came back to me. More terrified than it should have been. The space I was in couldn’t have been more than a small closet, narrow and cramped. Iron bars stood where a fourth wall should have been, thick and black, running from floor to ceiling. Beyond them stretched a corridor that vanished into deeper shadow. A single lantern hung from a hook several yards away, its flame guttering and weak, casting long, wavering shadows that stretched and shifted like living things reaching out to catch me, and I stumbled back until my back hit the wall behind.
There were no windows. No door other than the barred one. No furniture. Only damp straw scattered across the cold stone floor beneath me, smelling of rot and neglect.
Then I heard it.

Slow, heavy steps that drew closer and closer.
My entire body went rigid against the wall. Instinct drove me, but there was nowhere to hide or run. All I could do was press my body further in until the rough wall scraped through the thin fabric of my dress. I pressed myself flat against it, breathing as quietly as I could, listening as the footsteps drew nearer...

thud… thud… thud…

...until they stopped right outside the bars.
A shadow fell across me.
A hooded figure stood there, face hidden entirely in darkness. For several long, terrible seconds, neither of us spoke. He just stood there, watching me. I could feel his gaze, even without seeing his eyes, crawling over me like insects trying to burrow underneath my skin.
Then he turned his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder.
“She’s awake.”
His voice was rough, gravelly, and unfamiliar. It was not Aquila. Not Nayara. Not Asher. And not even Seth.
Another pair of footsteps approached. Lighter, but no less sure. A second hooded man appeared beside the first, leaning casually against the bars, looking me over from head to toe as though I were nothing more than goods laid out for inspection.
I just knew then that I was back in the Rout.

“So…” The second hooded man smiled, and I saw teeth beneath the shadow of his hood—too white, too even, unsettling in their brightness. “You’re the famous Crystal Noir?” the man crooned.

"Man, those pictures didn't lie about this one. She's a beauty," the first man chuckled. And I felt my stomach twist.

Pictures?

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and tight. “What do you want from me?”

He chuckled, a low, unpleasant sound.

“Straight to the point. I like that.”

Neither of them answered. They just stood there, watching me, their silence heavier than any threat. It made my skin crawl—the way they looked at me, like they knew something I didn’t, like my fate was already decided and I was merely waiting to be told what it was.

“Where am I?” I demanded, finding a sharpness in my tone. “Answer me. Where have you taken me?”
Silence.