Prison Princess

as possible. I learned how to pass the hours by memorizing the routines of this hellish place and by keeping a constant internal clock ticking in my mind. Every thirty minutes, the guards changed, and I had three more guard changes until bedtime. Every twenty-four guard changes, I was allowed to eat in the dining hall with the other women on my floor. Every six meals, I was allowed to bathe. Every fourteenth bath, I was allowed to go outside. And every seventh outside visit, the warden came to chat with me.
Tally marks on the floor of my cell helped me to keep track of it all. It was mundane, but my mind welcomed having a task.
I watched Dolorian in anticipation, waiting for him to check the time and disappear.
Just a bit longer.
Whistling down the hall caught my attention, and I smiled when Dolorian pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, gave me a stern look, then left his station outside my cell. I watched his back until the black uniform, stretched across his broad shifter shoulders, disappeared completely, then I let out a sigh of relief. I was alone. Alone. Afuckinglone.
Not wanting to waste much time, I dug my fingers into the crack in the concrete of my cell, where I kept my few hidden treasures: a pencil, paper, chocolate I traded some blood to a witch for, and a key. A very, very special key. I’d swiped it from Louisia, the cafeteria director, the day before. The elderly demon had a soft spot for me. Hell, that woman was the closest thing to a mother I’d ever known. We didn’t talk much, but she always slipped me extra food when the guards weren’t watching. It was a polite but cautious mercy. And since meals were every twenty-four guard changes, she was quite the constant in my life.
Breakfast and dinner gave me the routine I craved. It was the only time I got to socialize with the others, and I was thankful for the little treats Louisia would sneak me. She’d probably be furious once she realized I stole it, but I had good reason. Well, I had a selfish reason. I couldn’t really explain my desire to feel the moon on my skin, but I was desperate for its glow.
It started happening sixty meals ago—so about a month. There was a new guard assigned to this post. He was young and power hungry. I could feel the eagerness to please rolling off of him. Occasionally, we got guards like that, guards who wanted to kiss the warden’s ass and rise in the ranks. Almost all of them were too cocky for their own good. They took initiatives they weren’t supposed to. He fucked up the schedule and sent me to bath time at night instead of the morning. I was never allowed to bathe at night. The outdoor bathhouse was strictly forbidden to me after dark.
I’d never been allowed outside at night. It was a rule that had been drilled into me for as long as I could remember. Don’t let Layne out at night. Give her a cell with no windows. I’d always wondered why but never fought them on it. Growing up in Nightmare, you learned to pick your battles.
I tried desperately to warn him, but instead of listening, the guard slapped me clear across the cheek and told me to keep my mouth shut. I still remembered trembling as he walked me to the bathhouse, nervous about the change in routine. When you didn’t have time or freedoms, or even friends, you found comfort in the familiarity of your patterns.
I didn’t know how old I was, but I counted years by the number of visits the warden gave me—twenty, by my memory. And in all my time here, not once had I been gifted with the beautiful view of the large, glowing orb hanging in the night sky.
The moon was stunning. Ethereal. I was completely stunned the first moment I laid eyes on it.
The moment I stepped outside, my skin buzzed with an unfamiliar energy. I couldn’t stop staring at it. The last thing I remembered was shouts and a bright light. Mysterious songs flowed in and out of my mind.
And then, I woke up back in my cell.
I’d wanted to feel the moon’s glow on my skin ever since. And tonight? I was determined to do just that.
When I slipped past the threshold of my spelled cage, I went rigid in anticipation of the burning pain. Every damn cell in this place had wards and torture spells, but my firm grip on Louisia’s key protected me.
With my back pressed against the wall, I traveled down the long hallway, listening to leaky pipes drip grimy water on the concrete. My layer of hell was quieter than some of the other divisions. Most of the people here were women locked up for minor misdemeanors. None of them stayed too long. Most were timid and quiet, consigned here for bullshit offenses. I wasn’t sure if the warden purposely kept me on this level because he didn’t want me making any connections or because he wanted to keep me with the less hardened criminals.
When I was younger, a few of the prisoners were granted even shorter sentences in exchange for taking care of me. Some of them were nice. Most of them weren’t. None of them stayed. Either way, I was thankful for the calm. I’d heard screams from the other floors and had seen some of the torture that went down. My life might have been mundane and boring as fuck, but at least I was safe.
I’d no sooner had that thought than someone grabbed me, a hand practically shooting out from the darkness to swing me around. A scream bubbled up my throat just as thick, long fingers wrapped around my mouth. I braced my hands against the chest of the person holding me and jerked my head so I could look up. I