Gild (The Plated Prisoner Series Book 1)

To the ones who try, but can’t see the stars.

Keep looking up.

I don’t feel it, and I don’t care, because the thing that matters the most to me in this world has been taken from me.

My favored. My gilded. My precious. She’s been stolen from me and is being held in an enemy’s clutches.

I turn to my guards, my anger rising like boiling water, sending a thick haze of fury over my vision. The precision of my planned annihilation against King Fulke will be nothing compared to those who dared take Auren from me.

She’s mine.

From this close, I can see flakes of snow getting caught on his thick black lashes. I can see the polished gleam of the spikes over his brow. I wouldn’t call him handsome, he’s far too wicked looking for that, but the savage grace of him is as magnificent as it is utterly alarming.

Even though I’m freezing, my palms begin to sweat inside my gloves, my pulse pounding so hard I expect it to knock pinprick holes through my veins. The wind picks up, ruffling the brown feathers along my stolen coat, making it look as if my whole body is trembling.

Strong. His presence is so damn strong and full of death, like even his aura knows how destructive he is.

Finally, he speaks again. “So, this is King Midas’s pet.” He glances down at the feathers on my sleeves, the gold ribbons bereft in the snow, and his black eyes flash with interest as they lift again to my face. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to find a goldfinch.”

I’m not sure why hearing him call me a pet bothers me, but I find my hands fisting the fabric of my skirts.

“I know what you are,” I say with a sharp tone, my accusation escaping with a puff of hazy air between us.

A slow smirk spreads over his mouth, a menacing curl of his lips that makes my heart stumble. He takes a single step forward, a simple move that somehow sucks all the air out of the world.

He leans in, his aura pushing at me, testing, feeling, overwhelming. And despite the frigid air of the Barrens, despite the deafening noises of the scraping ships and the marching army, his voice presses hot and resonant against my ear as he speaks. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”

Quarter growls next to my face, making my eyes squeeze shut. “Fine. I’ll make you talk, and then—”

Before Quarter can finish his sentence or go through with his threat, a cold, smooth voice cuts through the air like a boom, a volcano erupting in the middle of a silent twilight.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

But then, like some sort of divine miracle, my ribbons start to glow.

It’s dim, like the softest beam of light below a pond of water, but it’s there. It’s the same glow of silken warmth that woke me up in the carriage after the attack.

A gasp escapes me as the four silky strands seem to come alive with a second wave of strength I didn’t know they were capable of. The lengths whip out, releasing the sheet and grabbing straight onto the captain’s torso, wrapping around with a metallic clink.

They pull with such force that I cry out in pain, my spine feeling like it’s about to snap.

But with their massive strength, Captain Fane begins to tip. And that slight movement is all we need to make him topple.

Rissa lets out a surprised yelp and falls forward as the statue goes tipping toward the open window. With a crash, his shins hit the lip of the window frame, but gravity has him in her clutches now and she’s not letting go.

My ribbons unravel in a flash, and the captain falls, like a massive tree cut at its trunk. He spins in his descent, and I lean over, watching as he plummets to the ground, the sheets around his neck flapping as he goes.

He hits the ground hard, sending up a spray of snow, like a body diving into water.

Rissa and I both blink down, staring silently, as we realize that we actually succeeded.

I cast a quick glance around, but luckily, the other pirate ships aren’t behind us, and the dawn is still meek enough that the landscape is barely lit.

Our breaths are jagged as we continue to look out the window, staring at where he’s landed cock-up in the snow.

Rissa’s lips curl up in satisfaction. “A fitting end, I think.”

“You have to keep it a secret. Please.”

I can see her mind working, her cogs turning, and I wish I knew what she was thinking.

“You told him to stop hurting me.”

I nod carefully. “I did.”

She considers me for a moment. “The last time you tried to help me, you chucked a book at my head.”

I grimace a little. “I’m a bit impulsive.”

She looks at the captain. “I’ll say.”

Like a ripple, it extends from his neck where I’m touching. It billows out, like smooth water, cresting over his shoulders, pouring down his arms, spreading over his torso, dripping down his legs. I feel it seep beneath, sinking past his skin, puddling into his organs, flooding through his veins.

His face is the last to go.

Because I want him to watch. I want him to see. I want him to look at me and know that my eyes are his punishing promise.

The last thing Captain Fane is able to do is widen his gaze in shock. But he doesn’t have time to blink or breathe. Not again. Not ever.

One second, his skin is ruddy, his tunic stained, his cock purple, his eyes brown. And the next, he’s frozen in time, every inch of him, from the beads on his beard to the toes in his boots, all of it gleaming, resplendent, vindictive.

Because I just turned the motherfucker solid gold.

I force myself to breathe as I struggle to my feet. My cheek throbs, my side screams in protest, but I manage to get up—even if I am slightly hunched over. I pull up my torn bodice, trying to keep it from falling off my chest, forcing my hands to stop shaking.

I look to the bed again and see that the captain has wrapped his belt around Rissa’s throat as he fucks her, her tears soaking the hair at her temples.

Anger appears in me, like my own rising dawn.

My hands fist and my jaw locks. I know it the second that the sun officially crests the horizon, because with it, so does my resolve.

My skin prickles.

I move forward, the murky morning filling the room with a dimmed haze. But even with such weak daylight, I feel better. Like I always said, I’m a bright side kind of girl.

The moment I step into the stream of muted dawn, the prickling on my skin intensifies, warming me up. My shoes scrape against the wooden floor as I limp toward the bed.

Rissa’s shiny eyes find me, her face wrinkled in pain, red from the pressure he’s cinching around her windpipe. My fingers straighten and flex.

When Captain Fane groans in pleasure, the sound digs into the soil of my fury and makes it sprout into a bud of hate.

He notices Rissa’s attention on me, because he turns his head, following her gaze. When he sees me walking toward him, he smirks. “Can’t wait your turn, hmm? Fine. I’ll have you now. See what all the fuss is about with Midas’s Golden Cunt.”

He drops his hold on the belt, making Rissa fall back coughing and choking. He starts to approach me with an excited gleam in his eye. “I’m going to enjoy making you hurt.”

His fist comes up, ready to hit, or grab my hair, or make me kneel, or toss me down. I don’t know for sure what he means to do as that hand comes for me so fast, but it doesn’t matter.

Because I’m faster.

Without hesitating, without thinking, I rush, not away from him, but closer. I cut the gap between us like a knife plunging forward, and then I slap my bare palm against the skin at his neck.

That’s all it takes.

Even though he doesn’t realize it yet.

The captain blinks at me, like he’s confused, like he’s wondering why his raised hand has stopped, why it isn’t coming down to punish, why he isn’t already subduing me.

Our faces are inches away, and I can feel his putrid, alcohol-laced breath puff out. I can feel the shudder that travels the length of his body.

His lips part, like he wants to ask what the hell is happening, but all that comes out is a mangled choke. It stutters from his throat for a split second before cutting off unnaturally.

He goes still as my hand squeezes tighter around his neck. Behind me, I hear Rissa gasp. Because there, at the spot beneath my palm, a change starts to spread across his skin.

The saddles near us glance over, but with the look of the captain’s face, they quickly look away. Without a sound, Rissa and I are pulled from the group and led toward the captain’s quarters instead. We’re lost in the mix, so the soldiers don’t see—or maybe they just don’t care.

My heart stutters in place, my feet stumbling their steps. A cold sweat breaks over my skin, chilling me instantly.

“Rip might think he’s so fucking clever, but I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy you before he takes you with him,” Captain Fane mutters

“Enjoy the rest of your night, Commander. Give your king my best,” the captain says with a tip of his hat.

“One moment, Fane.”

The captain stops, turns. The pirates carrying the loot pause. My wringing hands waver.

“The amount agreed upon is for all of Midas’s people,” the commander announces.

The captain blinks, brows pulling together in a frown. He’s confused for a split second, but I know. I know it a moment before the commander’s helmet-clad head turns in my direction, cutting through the people standing in front of me, as if he were aware I was standing here all along.

A gauntlet raises, a finger pointing at me. My heart freezes in the center of my chest. “That includes her.”

Captain Fane gapes as understanding crashes over him like an unforgiving wave. “No,” he begins with a sharp shake of his head, his black feather wavering on the top of his hat. “She isn’t for sale. Never was, because I’m keeping her. You bought all the others.”

Commander Rip’s hand lowers as he looks at the captain. Even from this distance, I can sense his displeasure. “I said all, Fane, and I meant it.” That rocky, jagged voice is as harsh as the Barrens’ cold. “Did you actually think I was giving you a trunk’s worth of gold just for some saddles, snow stallions, and half-dead soldiers?” A shake of his head. “No. Midas’s favored will be coming with us as well.”

My chest goes tight, stuck, like the weight of that coin-filled trunk just slammed down on top of me. My drum-beat heart rhythm is back in full force, reverberating in my ears.

Captain Fane’s fists clench at his sides, eyes blazing. “And if I refuse?”

A callous, cruel chuckle comes from the commander. It’s the kind of sound you hear before being tortured by a madman. The kind of laugh from a cold-blooded villain. “You won’t like what happens if you refuse. But by all means, the choice is yours.”