Escaped: A Supernatural Prison Romance (Imprisoned by the Fae Book 2) Read online

  Escaped

  Jessica Lynch

  Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Lynch

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover by Jessica Lynch

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  A Note From Jessica

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  Asylum

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  About the Author

  Also by Jessica Lynch

  1

  The world goes sideways and all I can think is: ah, man, not again.

  I’m still stumbling from the force of Saxon’s unexpected shove. Add that to the way the ground shifts beneath me and I can barely stay on my feet, let alone worry about what’s in my hands. Some sense of self-preservation kicks in, though, and I just manage to hang onto the muslin-like sack the treacherous Seelie gave me before he sent me right into the middle of an abandoned fairy circle.

  The seeing stone he tipped into my palm so that I could peer through the glamour that hid the circle? That’s gone. I must have dropped it because my left hand is completely empty as it slams into the dirt, breaking my fall when I come flying out on the other side.

  I land with a grunt, the bag of pretty, pink apples knocking the wind out of me as I tumble on top of them. They dig into my gut. Oof. I quickly roll off of the bag, still clutching the fabric between my fingers. When this is the only supply I have to keep from starving, I can’t lose it—even if I’m pretty sure that I am lost.

  The sky is purple. While I’m lying flat on my back, too stunned to even think about scrambling to my feet just yet, I stare up at the sky. The first thing I notice is that it’s way darker now than it was only seconds ago when I was still standing with Saxon. The next? Is that the sky is freaking purple.

  And not just the type of purple you get when a storm’s coming. Oh, no. It’s a rich, deep violet streaked with black clouds that are seriously black. Not grey, not charcoal, but pitch-black. It’s as intimidating as it is foreign, and it doesn’t do anything to help me figure out where I am.

  Since I’ve been in Faerie, I’ve grown used to the magenta sky burnished with gold that whirled over my head. This isn’t right. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I glance around. Dark is an understatement. There’s no sun—no moon, either—so of course there’s no light. A layer of shadow covers everything, from the brittle grass to the bleak-looking, bare trees. It makes everything look black, though I don’t really see much. It’s like someone dumped a bottle of ink everywhere because, except for a couple of feet in front of me, the rest of the forest I’m in gets swallowed up by the darkness.

  I’m lost and alone. That realization beating at my brain, I heft up my bag of apples and hurry to my feet. Spinning around, I look behind me. It’s just the same. Dark, dark, and more dark.

  What the hell?

  Saxon told me that the fairy circle was supposed to push me back across the veil. I step through it and, in a heartbeat, I go from Faerie to the Iron, the name the faerie folk have for the human world. Not that I wanted to. I didn’t. I have some unfinished business here—and a budding relationship with my scarred Seelie, Rys—and I refused to take the fairy circle.

  Didn’t matter. The Siúcra guard shoved me through anyway.

  I can’t blame him. Well, yeah, I can, but I’ve been in Faerie long enough by now that I kind of get where Saxon was coming from. Before we broke out of the Faerie prison, Rys told me that he had one of the guards on our side. That turned out to be Saxon, a Seelie who owes Rys a debt. And, believe me, “favor” means something totally different to the race in charge here. One of the fae will do anything to erase a debt they owe.

  In Saxon’s case, he tried to repay Rys by giving me the bag of faerie fruit and sending me back to the Iron. It was too dangerous for me to stay here in Faerie. For one thing, I’m a fugitive. For another, I’m a human without a single drop of magic. If I get caught by the wrong creatures, it could be open season on me—or worse.

  I’ve already been through some of the “worse”. Since I’ve been here, I’ve been poisoned, sold at a Faerie market to a Seelie noble, propositioned to be some kind of pet, sent to fairy jail, and then nearly “claimed” by a corrupt Unseelie prison guard—and, yes, it was just as unpleasant as it sounds. Sure, I also started to fall for my Seelie cellmate, and thanks to Rys masterminding our break-out, I thought my shitty luck might have begun to finally turn around.

  I wish. Not only were we separated during the last stage of our escape, but after I followed his instructions to wait for him at a nearby inn, it wasn’t Rys who met me there.

  It was Saxon.

  And, according to the Seelie guard, he was there on Rys’s orders to make sure that I finished my escape by getting out of Faerie. When I refused, he did what he thought he had to: he pushed me into a hidden fairy circle.

  Only it, uh, it didn’t work.

  I glance around, my stomach twisted in nervous knots. I’m definitely not back in Kansas—or, for that matter, home.

  Faerie. No doubt in my mind that this is still Faerie. The purple sky, the dark shadows… yeah, that’s a big honking clue that I’m still in the magical world. It’s just not any part of Faerie that I’ve been in before.

  Not like that’s saying much. In the more than a month since I first found my way to this magical realm, I spent most of it locked up as a prisoner in Siúcra, the largest prison in Faerie. For a little less than three weeks I was trapped inside a cramped cell with nothing except a narrow cot, a magic shower box that tripled as a toilet and a washing-up station, and an enigmatic, scarred Seelie for a cellmate.

  Rys…

  Only a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure whether I should be angry or hurt that Rys knew that I was his soul mate—that he knew he was sacrificing our relationship during the break-out from Siúcra—and that he arranged for Saxon to send me away from Faerie anyway.

  Well, now I know. I’m fucking pissed.

  My fury heats me up from the inside out. I can’t believe him. And, okay, he warned me not to trust him—his exact words were in Faerie, trust no one—but he kept pushing me not to worry. He was supposed to be right behind me. That’s what he told me and, damn it, the fae can’t lie!

  I stomp my feet. It’s a straight-up angry reflex. I guess the shock’s finally wearing off as the reality that I’m trapped on my own in a dark and unfamiliar part of Faerie slowly sinks in.

  Because of course I am—and, as much as I hate to admit it, that’s partly my fault. Not knowing what Rys planned on giving up, I made a sacrifice, too.

  What did I expect? I knew that there was a price to pay to flee the prison. In order to let a prisoner leave through its gates, Siúcra demands a sacrifice. It has to be something super significant or the magic of the prison won’t even consider it. There was only one thing important enough to me that I figured would count. In one fell swoop, I gave up my chance to return to my old life—which included my apartment, my family, and Jim, my boyfriend since I was sixteen.

  I didn’t even get the chance to explain that to Saxon before the shove-happy Seelie pulled on his diamaint gloves and pushed me through the fairy circle. He was sure it would work—I knew better—but look. Here I am, though it’s anyone’s guess where exactly this is.

  The dark’s creeping me out. It’s quiet, too. Really quiet. I can hear my frantic breathing and that’s about it. No wind, no wildlife, not even the flapping wings of a pixie.

  It’s also strangely cold. Not enough that I start to shiver or anything, but that’s probably because my jacket—and my temper—is keeping me warm. It’s worn leather, a perfect fit for me, and the last piece of home I have. I lost my cell phone within days of arriving in Faerie and my promise ring was my golden ticket out of Siúcra. I offered it to the spirit of the prison as a tangible signal of my sacrifice so, yeah, that’s also gone.

  I cling tighter to my bag of apples. Besides the clothes on my back, that’s all I have. It’s a good thing that I do. Even though it’s obvious I’m still in Faerie, the few trees surrounding me are completely bare. No leaves. No fruit. I have maybe another twenty-four hours before the cramps kick in if I don’t eat at least a single bite of faerie food. So long as I have my stash, that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about for a while.

  Hey. I’ll take it.

  Besides, it’s not like I have any other choice, huh?

  Did I think it was already dark out? Ha. The longer I linger where the fairy circle spit me out, the darker it gets until I can barely see in front of me anymore.

  I’m so stinking pissed that I lost the seeing stone. I spent the last half an hour or so on my hands and knees, patting the crunchy grass, hoping that I dropped it when I landed here. Uh-uh. If it
’s here, I can’t find it. And, without the seeing stone to peer through Faerie glamour, I’ve got no hope of finding another fairy circle.

  I’ve accepted that there’s no way of Faerie. Fine. But even though the huldra who owned the inn had tried to roofie me with fairy wine and Saxon warned me that the Faerie Market was nearby, I’d much rather be in the Summer Court than wherever the hell I am. At least it was warm there and I didn’t feel like I’m the last person in the universe.

  I don’t know what’s worse: that I’m entirely alone or that there’s a chance that I’m not. The shadows are so heavy, anyone could be lurking out in the darkness and I’d never know until it was too late.

  I gulp, trying desperately not to dwell on that thought.

  And it’s not like I can expect anyone to come looking for me. My stupid ass didn’t tell Saxon about my sacrifice so he’s gotta expect that I’ve crossed back over. For his sacrifice, Rys supposedly gave up his fated soul mate—and, at some point, I’m going to have to really come to grips with the fact that that’s me—so that means he’s not allowed to be with me now that Siúcra has let him go. I don’t want to believe that, but I’m a prime example that Siúcra doesn’t renege on those sacrifices. Otherwise I would be back in the city instead of being transported to another part of Faerie.

  Fucking wonderful. And I honestly thought my luck couldn’t get any worse.

  Welp. I was wrong, wasn’t I?

  I can’t just stay here. It would be a huge mistake. Say I am alone right now. What if someone else comes waltzing through the fairy circle and they find me standing around like a lost little kid? I still haven’t forgotten the muttered conversation I overheard between Saxon and Coal, two of the guards walking past my cell. I might not be an untouched human any longer, but I don’t think that’ll stop any of the arrogant fae who look at humans and only see a plaything.

  And that’s if they don’t look at me and see a target.

  That thought in mind, I start to move. Do I know where I’m going? Not at all. Does it matter? Not really. Despite being surrounded by all the dead-looking trees, I’m more exposed than I want to be. Until I can come up with a new plan, I just need some shelter and—

  Caw!

  I jump at the screeching noise. I’ve grown so used to the quiet, the caw seems deafening; worse, because I didn’t expect it at all.

  What the hell was that?

  Ignoring the way my heart is thudding all of a sudden, I tilt my head. Squinting, I think I see something shifting in the deep purple sky. The clouds are already like ink, rolling back and forth like an ominous warning, but the dark spot moves quickly, gracefully over my head. It might be a crow. It certainly sounded like one.

  Oh, great. Because having some kind of black crow or raven circling over me is just what I need when I’m worried about being followed…

  I shake it off. So long as it stays up there and I’m by myself down here, that’s fine. Cradling my apples to my chest, I exhale softly, trying to settle my nerves before heading off again. And if it seems as if I’m heading in the same direction as the crow’s flying, well, that’s just coincidence, right?

  Fingers crossed.

  All I want is somewhere safe to hide out until morning. I’m not so tired, thanks to the nap I had back at the inn, and, honestly, I’m too keyed up to actually sleep out in the open. But I also don’t see how it’s a smart idea to keep on walking blindly into the woods. I could be getting more and more lost without realizing it, and I’m hoping that my shitty situation will look better in the daylight.

  Of course, that’s assuming it’s night here.

  Please let it be night. Because if this part of Faerie is always so dark and shadowy, I’m screwed.

  I move carefully, relying on my sense of hearing since I can hardly see in front of my face. While I clutch the bag of apples like the lifeline they are, I keep my other hand outstretched so that I don’t walk headfirst into something. It’s not ideal but I have to work with what I have for now.

  I don’t know how long I’m walking for or how far I’ve gone—with my luck, I’ve been walking in circles—when my ears prick up again.

  The sound starts off low, somewhere in the distance. Stupidly, I wonder if it’s thunder. It’s a faint rumble that has me putting my hand out, palm up, waiting to see if rain’s gonna fall.

  My hand stays dry, though. And, as I go still, cocking my ear to search for the source of that sound, I realize something. That’s… that’s not thunder. It’s growing louder, coming closer, and even if I want to pretend those aren’t hoofbeats pounding the hard ground, the whinny splitting the still air makes it undeniable.

  It’s a horse. And, in my experience—especially in Faerie, where I was dragged to Siúcra in a horse-drawn caravan—where there’s a horse, there’s a rider.

  Ah, hell.

  Forget careful. With the rhythm of the hoofbeats thudding in sync with my thumping pulse, that’s my cue to get the hell out of Dodge.

  I just go forward, figuring that so long as the rider stays behind me, I’m heading in the right direction. I don’t even know if he’s coming for me, but I do know that I’d rather not stick around and find out. I dash through the eerie trees, my apples banging against my thigh, my knee, my ass as it bounces in time to my sprint. It’s hard to breathe, every gasp a struggle as sudden fear races through me, but I pour on the speed despite the obvious.

  No way I can outrun a horse. Here’s hoping I can lose it.

  There’s no path. No light. If I can zigzag enough, find a spot to hide where the horse could never reach me, I should be alright.

  At least, that’s the plan.

  A stitch forms in my side. It feels like I’m being stabbed, the pain growing more intense with every other footfall. I’d like to think I was in shape, but I just spent weeks locked in a cell. I’m lucky I can even move this fast.

  At first, when I notice the faint, pale blue flash of light ahead of me, I think I’m seeing things. Like “I haven’t gotten enough oxygen to my brain” kind of seeing things. I wince, then blink rapidly, all while still pumping my arms and pushing my legs. A moment later, my eyes tell my brain that it’s really there and I come up short, staring in disbelief.

  It’s about three inches long, though the way it shimmers and floats about two feet off of the ground makes it hard to tell what shape it really is. It flickers like a flame, and it looks like a super hot one, too; the inside is pure white, framed by varying shades of blue.

  What the…

  My free hand is already reaching for the nearest wisp of light before I even realize I’m doing it.

  No, Helen, I tell myself. I clench my fingers into a tight fist, pounding it at my side as I rip my gaze away from the wisp. Don’t even think about it.

  It’s not the only one. Now that I’m not stuck on the nearest wisp, I notice that there are countless others, each spread a good distance apart, a long line disappearing into the darkness.

  They have to lead somewhere. Probably not anywhere good, but as another whinny sends a shiver coursing up and down my spine, I don’t care. I just don’t fucking care.

  I take off toward the wisps.

  And, yeah, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I’m probably making a mistake. When I was younger, my mother used to tell me stories about Faerie, about the magic in a mythical realm where every fairy tale creature, every myth, every legend I’ve ever heard of made their home. I know what I’m looking at. These are will o’ the wisp, straight out of one of my mom’s stories, and they’re known for leading travelers astray.

  Shoot. I don’t even think it’s possible for me to get any more lost. And the mysterious horseman coming up from behind me would never guess I’d be so stupid as to run toward the light, right?

  I almost turn around. When the wind picks up, followed by a childish giggle that is somehow worse than the rumble of the horse closing in on me, I almost turn around. Only the fact that, as I pass them, the wisps wink out, has me continuing to run forward.