Gleam: The dark fantasy romance TikTok sensation that’s sold over a million copies (Plated Prisoner Book 3)

As I leave the saddle wing, I debate how to get back into my rooms without being seen, but the decision is ripped right out from under me when a worried looking Scofield comes barreling down the hall.

I freeze and glance left and right, which is stupid since there’s nowhere to hide and he’s already seen me anyway.

“My lady, how did you get here? I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaims, rushing forward.

“How did you know I wasn’t in my room?”

He stops in front of me, brown hair disheveled. “I had a feeling you’d gone against the king’s orders,” he says as he fidgets with the golden buckles of his uniform. “Plus, I kept knocking on your door, and you didn’t answer.”

“I could’ve been sleeping,” I say defensively. “Honestly, Scofield, that’s a little rude to jump to conclusions like that.”

His brow furrows. “But you’re not sleeping.”

“Well, you know that now.” I look around the empty hall. “Does anyone else know I’m here?”

Scofield shakes his head and scratches his sideburn. “Not that I know of. I had someone take my post so I could come looking for you, just in case. The others thought you were just ignoring me.”

“See? That’s a much more reasonable assumption. You should listen to them next time.”

He gives me a pointed look. “They were wrong.”

I just shrug, like that’s beside the point. “Well, you found me now, so you can escort me back to my room if that makes you feel better. Lead the way.” I gesture down the hall. “The sooner you get me back, the less of a chance King Midas has of finding out that I snuck out during your watch. He probably wouldn’t be too happy with you.”

I feel a bit guilty about the way the blood drains from Scofield’s face as the weight of my words sink in, but I’m not above playing dirty.

Too bad Midas is already waiting in my room when we get there.

My stomach drops as soon as I open the door and find him standing inside. Scofield makes a choking noise next to me, while Lowe avoids eye contact in the hall.

As I pause in the doorway, Midas’s unreadable gaze flicks over me. “Close the door,” he orders.

Swallowing hard, I step in, swinging the door closed behind me before I face him. He has his arms crossed in front of him, and he’s dressed impeccably. In formal pants and a long shirt, he’s buttoned from collarbone to hips with elaborate filigree embroidered along the length of his tunic. I briefly wonder who he’s dressed to impress today, but I’m more distracted by the set of his jaw and the cut of his glare.

To keep them from trembling, I clasp my hands in front of me.

I have the power. Me.

Those silent thoughts help me steel myself against the onslaught of temper I know I’m about to receive.

His brown eyes pin me in place, like a pair of needles to stick me against the door. “Where were you?”

I raise my chin. “I told you I wouldn’t stay locked up.”

All of the still silence bursts out of him at once. “I did it for your protection!” He takes a step toward me, hand slashing in the air like he wants to cut off my rebellion at its knees. “I let you out of your cage,” Midas tells me, as if I should be grateful, as if he did any such thing.

“No. I let myself out.”

Midas pauses at the look on my face, and for a moment, I know he’s remembering the way my ribbons lashed out and ripped the iron door off its hinges and threw it at him. How he was slammed to the floor, stunned beneath its weight.

“I told you I didn’t want you leaving this room.” He pulls at the bottom of his tunic and lets out a firm breath, like his determination in the matter has settled it.

It hasn’t.

“And I told you that I won’t be locked away. I promised to keep guards with me and to be careful. I’m not your pet to be kept anymore.”

Midas’s eyes darken. “You are not allowed to wander around during daylight hours, and that’s final.”

The coals of my anger begin to glow, begin to build and heat. “It is not final!”

His regard over me is a cursory sweep that hooks onto my balled fists and knotted arms. “You’re different since you came back.”

My expression goes stony. “And you were different the moment you put on a crown.”

He doesn’t like that answer, not at all.

I shake my head. “What happened to you, Midas?” I don’t mean to say it aloud, but it’s a question I keep asking myself. Was he always this way? Or like a frog put into lukewarm water, did I just not notice the slow progression of the rising temperature of his greed until I was being boiled in it?

A storm gathers on his brow. “I grew up, Auren. I figured out what I wanted, and I took it.”

“You got greedy.”

He closes the space between us until that storm of his hovers over my air and threatens to douse everything light and warm.

“Greed is relative. I saw an opportunity to make my life better. And yours.”

“You took advantage.”

A bursting scoff escapes him. “Stop with the dramatics, Auren. Stop with this rebellion. It doesn’t suit you.”

“No, the problem is that it doesn’t suit you.”

That’s the real truth of it. I’m a pet to be kept and a tool to be used, and if I do or say anything remotely individualistic, anything that he doesn’t like or control, then he wants to squash it beneath his heel like a bug.

“Enough,” he seethes, making me flinch. “You’re acting like a brat.”

I rear back at the insult. “A brat? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch your tongue,” he growls, finger raised to point at my face.

My spine stiffens. “I will say what I want, and I will leave this fucking room when I like, and you can’t stop me.”

You can’t stop me

can’t stop me

can’t

The words palpitate between us, clogging in his ears and thrumming on my tongue, because there it is. The ugly truth that he never wanted me to know: that power doesn’t just come from magic. It comes from your own grit. And I have both.

The look in his eye makes me want to turn away, but I manage to hold my ground. “Careful, Auren. Be very, very careful.”

Every word is a lash of warning.

My breath heaves, that dark, coiled anger in my chest writhing and poking with feathers and beak like some unnamed beast. I’m trying to plan smart, to play the long game and disappear right out from under his nose, but he will not keep me captive. My soul can’t take that again.

I hold the power.

Me.

I don’t care how long he’s tried to trick me into thinking it was the other way around.

“Or what?” I challenge, my voice cracking like a whip.

He wants to threaten me, and the creature that’s bloomed under my skin wants to rise up and strike him down for it.

I’m not sure what I let through in my expression, but Midas’s eyes narrow. “Hmm. I can see our time apart has done more damage to you than I first realized.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “You think I’m damaged because I refuse to be locked away like a mad person in an asylum?”

“Listen, I have plans in motion, and Third Kingdom is due to arrive soon, so I cannot have you acting out of line. A lot rides on this, and you need to do your part. That means gilding whatever I tell you to gild, and staying where I tell you to stay. You went through some traumatic events, and I am sorry for that, but I’m not your enemy. I’m your protector and your king.”

My cager and betrayer.

“I’ll gild whatever you want,” I tell him, “unless you lock me away again.”

The ultimatum lands like a star falling from the sky and exploding on the ground. The fire in the hearth burns low, a soft orange glow to compete with the shadows between us.

He watches me for a long time. Just the two of us staring at each other like strangers. I’ve never not given him everything he ever asked for or bent to his will. The bastard can’t say the same for me.

Finally, he lets out a sigh and shakes his head. “Oh, Auren.” His tanned hands come up to bracket his hips like he’s bracing himself. Yet there’s condescension on his face, and I wonder if he would look at me like that if it were still daytime. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve left me no choice.”

He digs into his pocket and then holds his palm out, revealing a small golden piece of grimy metal.

I frown down at the guard pin, eyes tracing over the bell emblem. “Why are you showing me that?”

“You don’t recognize it?”

Wariness paints over my face. “It’s the pin all the guards in Highbell wear.”

Midas lifts it up, rolling it between his finger and thumb like a god holding the world in a threatening pinch. “You told me you thought your guard died with the Red Raids.”

My mind races.

Stumbles.

Rolls down a cliff, scraped and scattered and left to fall.

For a moment, all I can see is a flash of red in the snow and sweet blue eyes. All I can hear is, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

His name yanks out of me like the dagger pulled from a chest. “Sail…”

But Midas shakes his head, and I tear my eyes away from the pin to look at him. “No. Digby.”

My free-falling mind slams to a stop. Dots of black appear in my vision like a starless sky ready to swallow me whole. I physically stumble back, barely catching myself on the bedside table as my knees threaten to give out.

“Digby?” It’s a whisper, a plea, a bewildered breath. “What…I don’t…I don’t understand.”

Something glimmers behind the depths of his muddied eyes. “I have him, Auren.”

The gut-wrenching gasp that rips out of my chest leaves my heart to gape out in the open. My lip quivers, ribs squeeze, fingers dig into the table to keep myself standing. “What are you talking about?”

He’s cool and calm again. Calculated. Just that look alone fills me with dread.

“It was meant to be a gift, you see.”

I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment, my head shaking as I try to comprehend through the shock. “Wait, wait. Are you…are you saying Digby is alive? He’s here?”

“Like I said, he was going to be a gift for your return. I knew you were fond of the old man. Although, he had to be punished, of course.”

Digby. Alive. He’s actually alive? I can’t—

“Wait,” I rush to say, shaking my head. “What the hell do you mean punished?”

Midas shoots me an annoyed look at my curse word. “He allowed the Red Raids to capture you, and then subsequently, Fourth’s army. I couldn’t let that go unanswered.”

Horror crashes over me like a sudden flood to knock me into its violent path. “He’s alive and you’ve kept that from me this whole time? You’ve punished him?”

His eyes flicker knowingly. “He didn’t do what he was ordered to.”

My teeth gnash against the double meaning. The threat. That I’ll be punished if I don’t follow his orders too.

I cross my arms in front of me. “I want to see him.”

Midas clicks his tongue. “Therein lies the problem. I was going to let you do just that, but in your current state of mind and overemotional hysterics, I simply can’t allow it.”

Can’t allow it?

Fire flares in my chest and sears through my eyes. “Let me see him. Right. Now.”

The dark warning in his face sharpens against an edge of satisfaction. “When you improve your behavior and your mood, I will.”

My lips pull back in a sneer. “You son of a bitch.”

Again, with his clicking tongue, a sweep of reprimand like I’m a child to be disciplined. “That’s certainly not the way to go about it, Auren.”

Hot tears fill my eyes, but I hold them back. “You’re lying. You don’t have him.”

Midas looks at me with pity. “I do. But even if you think I’m lying, are you really willing to bet his life on it?”

I go still, like a fierce gale that suddenly died. Sucked away until every particle of air is depraved with stagnancy.

“Don’t you dare hurt him.”

Midas gives a shrug. “That’s entirely up to you.” He grips my hand and drops the pin into my palm.

I stare down at it and see it for what it is. His best bargaining chip to make me complacent. How can something so small feel so damn heavy?

When a tear drips into my cupped palm, Midas’s eyes soften. That gesture probably would’ve fooled me before, would’ve made me doubt myself and had my emotions braided with confusion and heartache.

But the eyes of liars are tricky things. They can show you what you want to see without ever reflecting the truth. It’s best not to look a liar in the eye. They’re so good at their own compulsions that their gazes hold steady, and then you’re the one who loses sight.

Midas pops a kiss on the top of my head, but I’m too numb in shock to jerk away. “I’m not trying to punish you, Auren,” he says softly as he pets my hair, once more the benevolent master. “You need something to focus on so you can get back to being yourself. I’m giving you that.”

He’s betrayed me before, but this…

“As soon as you’re better and behaving like yourself again, I’ll reinstate Digby, and then everything will be alright.” He gives me an encouraging smile. “I promise. Everything I do, I do for you. You see that now, don’t you?”

My shaken eyes drag back up to his face. “Yes, Midas. I see.”

I see.

“I’ll have some food sent up. You’ll have a clearer head in the morning after you get some rest, and then we will get to work on turning some things gold, alright?”

He’s already tugging on his leash, testing to see if I’ll heel.

“Okay, Midas.”

A pleased, placating look crosses his face. “There’s my precious girl. I knew this is what you needed. You’ll be better soon.” He taps my chin. “Don’t worry about a thing. I always make sure you have what you need, don’t I? I’ll keep you safe,” he says earnestly, hand once more stroking down my hair. “I’ll even compromise with you. I’ll allow you to wander in the castle after dusk with a guard. But during the day, when it’s not safe, you stay put. More guards will always be posted outside your door. No one will get to you.”

“Just you.” The words slip out, unbidden.

His touch pauses on my head before falling away. “That’s right. Just me,” he murmurs.noveldrama

It’s a promise.

It’s a threat.

It’s a line in the sand that keeps dripping through the hourglass.

“Goodnight, Precious.”

The moment he’s gone, with my bedroom door snugly shut, my skirts crumple with my knees, the fabric fanning out like a rippling lake as I land on the floor. Teardrops soak my lashes as I use my free hand to try and stifle the sobs that wrench out of me.

How could he?

How could he?

He knows that I’ve always had a soft spot for Digby. Felt comfortable with the gruff man who always watched over me. And all this time, I’ve been grieving him like I’ve grieved for Sail.

The thought of Digby being here at Ranhold this whole time and possibly hurt…

I have no idea how or when he would’ve arrived. No idea where he might be kept or if he’s okay. But Midas could be lying too, and that’s what’s so agonizing about this. I don’t know what the truth is.

My heart aches at the idea of him being punished, but I have to shove that thought away, or I’ll never stop crying. I should’ve expected a counter move from Midas, though I didn’t realize he’d stoop this low. It just solidifies everything for me. This is another barb in the collar that he wants wrapped around my neck.

Because Midas is right. Even if he is lying, I’m not willing to take that chance. So long as there’s a possibility he has my guard, I will have to play nice. I will have to play smart. Digby is my guard. My only other constant I’ve ever had, and I want him back.

After another ragged sob, I make myself take a fortifying breath to help push away the panic and hatred, because I need to think. The feathered anger beneath my skin helps to steel my spine, and my ribbons give me a comforting squeeze.

The Golden King wants to pluck my strings and make me sing. So I’ll sing. I’ll do just enough to ensure that he doesn’t hurt Digby.

Wiping my cheeks, I start to get to my feet, but pause when I feel the small book weighing down my pocket. I put the guard pin on the bedside table and then pull out the forbidden fae book. My eyes trace the elderwood, fingers running over the red leather that coats it, golden filigree and an ancient language meeting my touch.

The sound it makes when I open the front cover is the crack of a jaw yawning awake. It’s the sigh of a breath kept inside for too long, closed beneath parchment ribs.

There are no words in this book, no lengthy explanations of my heritage, my people. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how desperate I was for that. Maybe I thought I was going to open this book and find all the answers to the questions I didn’t even know I had.

Instead, there are only painstaking illustrations painted on each thick page, some cracked or dusted away, the paint given up in its battle with time. No words, no long-ago fae coming up through the pages to give me answers about who I am or about my home I’ve forgotten so much about.

Somehow, the silence is made up for by the apology of paintings. As if the person who worked on this book couldn’t give me words but gave me something else.

Annwyn.

My world looks up at me from forbidden pages of a forgotten land. Glittering rivers speckled with dawn light, flowers with smiles, and trees with grasping limbs. Hills that roll when you step on them, and sand made of glass.

Tears burn in my eyes with every picture I flip past, fingers tingling as if they can feel the echoes of something familiar. I come to a stop on the very last page, finding an Orean woman with flaxen hair and autumn eyes leaned against a fae male wearing an onyx crown. He has pointed ears, a dark complexion, and gossamer wings hanging like shadows against his back. They’re tucked against a sunset sky, polka dot clouds brimming with oranges and pinks behind them.

The way they’re looking at each other is as if nothing else exists. There’s a subtle haze clinging around their embrace, love shining in their eyes. At the bottom of the page, a single word in the old fae language is painted in elaborate calligraphy.

Päyur

I stare at the pictures for a long time.

Flipping backwards and forwards, I use the light of the dying fire to feed my nostalgic craving. I look at the book until my eyes burn with tiredness while the thought of Digby drums in my veins.

I can’t leave if Digby is here, so I’m going to find him. Even if that means I have to scour this castle from foundation to roof, I will find my guard. And then when I leave, because I am going to leave, I’m taking Digby with me.

Please be okay, Digby.

Please be alive.

I fall asleep with the secret book buried in the pocket of my dress, dreaming of that fae couple standing in the eventide, wrapped in a shared aura and whispering at me to come home.

If only I knew where home was.