Entangled (Beauty Never Dies Chronicles #2)

I stole through the night, making my way into the main living area of the Towers. The building that had once been my home for months lay quiet, and I remembered that all the sleeping chambers were located on the top three floors. It was there the trainees stayed.

Creeping up the main staircase, I walked down the fifth floor corridor. Doors lined either side, but she wasn’t inside any of them. My frustration grew. When I checked the sixth floor, she wasn’t there either. I dreaded even thinking about stepping foot onto the seventh floor where the executive suites resided. I had only been there a handful of times, but it was enough to cause my stomach to pitch. The shit that went on behind closed doors in this place was something I long wanted to forget.

With little other choice, I pushed the door open.

If she was here, on the seventh floor, she wasn’t being treated like a trainee. Could I be wrong about her being a prisoner, being forced to be at the Institute? I pushed on, needing to at least see her, because if she wasn’t under the roof of Diamond Towers, I was afraid I might have lost her, and that was a horrifying thought.

Like the other halls, this one also was lined with doors on either side. Now what?

If I just started throwing them all open, I was bound to draw unwanted attention. Instead, I carefully checked each doorknob, going on a hunch.

I tugged the door latch on the sixth door.

Locked.

My heart sped up. This had to be it. A locked door wasn’t going to keep me out. In under a minute, I jimmied the mechanism and turned the handle, slipping inside the dark room.

My eyes went straight to the bed and I exhaled. Charlotte.

There she lay.

She seemed unharmed and fast asleep, much like she had been when I first laid eyes on her, but she had traded in her glass slab for a plush bed. Again, I was struck breathless by her beauty. Bold red locks of hair spilled strikingly against the milky white pillow. Reaching out, I wound a curl around my finger, inhaling the sweet scent of honeysuckle and vanilla.

This was a far cry from the repugnant dungeon, and I couldn’t help but think maybe I was wrong. What if she was safe here? What if her parents adored her? Could I take that all away from her? A chance to have a family when it was so rare?

Cursing under my breath, I had to make a decision. Now.

The cell guards reported to the dungeon guard who reported to the Tower guard. The Tower guard reported to the Night’s guard, who reported to the commander and so forth. As soon as one guard noticed my absence, the alarm would be raised, and I needed to be far from the white city when that happened or all would be lost.

I brushed my lips over hers. “Be safe, Freckles,” I whispered. “Until we meet again, whenever that will be.”

With a heavy heart, I stepped away from the bed and crawled out the window. The silvery moonlight cast a shimmery glow onto her skin as I took one last glimpse at the girl who had changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. Going on without her would be harder than it had been to escape this place, but she deserved a chance to have something I never did.

Family.

Love.

A home.





Chapter One





CHARLOTTE





So much had happened in such a short time, it was hard to keep it straight in my head. My life was becoming an endless pattern of constant danger, unexpected twists and turns—not to mention disappointment—and I waited poised for the next attack. I never thought it would come from someone I loved …

In a moment of déjà vu, my eyes fluttered open. A distinct woodsy scent lingered in the air, and it made my heart cramp. Just like that, I missed him.

Dash Darhk.

His name made my heart patter. I shouldn’t miss him, but my heart didn’t care that he was hung up on another girl, on finding her.

The guy had saved me time and time again, and how did I repay him? By getting him captured. Again. He must hate me. I hated me. If it weren’t for me, Dash wouldn’t be in the clutches of the Institute, suffering God only knew what kind of torture. I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure he was at the Institute, but the constant dread in my stomach told me he couldn’t have possibly gotten away.

My eyes roamed over the darkness, looking for him, regardless of the fact that I knew he wasn’t in my room. Correction: prison.

For three days I’d been locked up in this box, like a princess in a tower. At least I thought it had been three days. Time was difficult to keep track of, when there were no clocks.

Wood planks covered the floor and felt rough under my bare feet. A bathroom was across from the twin bed. The room was plush and pink, but there was nothing homey or relaxing about it; it was eerie. I hated everything from the floral bedspread to the whimsical white curtains that hung from the window. Its similarity to the room I’d had before the mist freaked me out, as if they’d been expecting me—a disturbing thought on so many levels.

Had my parents known I was alive?

Had they known which holding house I was in?

Was that why I was stuck on a slab of glass in a secluded room like some kind of trophy?

And while I slept, they had gotten a room ready for me to come home to, a place that trained, tortured, exiled, and used humans with extra abilities.

What were they going to do to me?

My wild imagination got the best of me. I wanted to hurl.

Taking a deep breath, I sat up, my brain reeling with so many unanswered questions, and at the forefront was Dash. How could the scent of him be so intense in my head that I would have sworn he’d been in the room?

The thought of seeing the brooding Slayer brought on a strong wave of emotions: longing, sadness, regret, love, a mishmash of feelings.

I hugged my knees to my chest and stared out the window. Darkness spilled in from my only source of the outside world. Too bad I was at least six or seven stories from the ground, leaving me no real chance at escape.

A cool breeze sent the curtains dancing in the air, and I turned on my side, gazing up into the starry sky, wondering where he could be.

After the attack, there was a big black spot in my memory thanks to the drug my father had injected me with. I had no clue what had happened to Dash—if he’d been captured, tortured, killed, or if he had managed to get away.

I was really holding out for the latter.

The idea of him being tangled in the Institute’s web left me with a feeling of bleakness, but if he was out there and had escaped, at least there was a ray of hope. He could still find his family and all wouldn’t be lost.

I needed to find out, for my own sanity, but no one told me anything. Not that I was actually allowed to see anyone other than the quiet, shy girl who brought me my meals and checked on me from time to time.

Starlyte was her name.

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