Alina awoke the following morning with her body aching for more than one reason. To her relief, one glance to the bed told her than the Darkling had long been gone, the navy blue sheets neatly smoothed out in place. With a low groan, she stood up and ran her hand along her sore jaw, wincing when her fingers came in contact with the her scabbed cheek. She made a mental note not to get into any more squabbles with Squallers.

After splashing her face in the bathroom and glaring at the dark smudges underneath her eyes, she marched to the entrance of the main parlor and tried the door. And shockingly, it clicked open. She stood still for a long moment, listening to the silence filling the corridor. Then she peeked her head out and immediately paled.

Two oprichniki stood on either side of the ornate door, two gray pillars of brute strength that had obviously been put there to stop her from a grand escape. A locked door would have done well enough. Alina flexed her fingers, reaching for her light before she hesitated. Mal. She needed to find her way down to the dungeons to see him.

She bit down on her lip. Then again, she didn't want to see him so soon. She doubted that she'd be able to look him in the eye after what happened. Fingers drumming at her sides to direct her focus elsewhere, she pushed open the door further and took a step into the corridor, expecting the guards the grab hold of her and shove her back inside.

When they didn't, Alina looked between them in confusion. "Are you guards or just for decoration?" Another step and no hands moved to grab her. "Just decoration then," she murmured to herself before making her way down the otherwise empty hallway.

She expected unending silence, but as her steps brought her closer to the windows further down the corridor, voices sounded through the glass. Bunching her kefta up so she wouldn't trip, her feet carried her quickly to the window. Her mind went to Nikolai, how he promised to return for her.

Her hopes were quickly dashed.

Instead of a brigade of the prince's flying ships, Grisha of all orders were gathered outside the Little Palace, working on reconstruction. It was nearly in shambles, but she had no doubt that the Materialki would have the palace repaired in little to no time. The Darkling despised the Grand Palace, even called it the ugliest building he'd ever seen seen when she'd first been brought to Os Alta. That seemed so long ago, but little time had passed in reality.

She sighed and turned away, staring down the empty hall before making her mind up.

It was time for a trip to the dungeons.

After wandering aimlessly through the endless corridors that were practically empty save for the few oprichniki stationed at certain doors, she found the steel door that led to the depths of the Grand Palace. She'd spent the last hour trying to find the entrance, had even asked a few of the gray-clad guards for directions, but they hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her existence. She might as well have been asking a brick wall. Apparently the Darkling had given them strict orders to make her feel as little as possible.

At least dogs were given plenty of attention.

Sighing and shaking her head of the thought, Alina blatantly glared at the guards flanking the door, and when they made no move to stop her from going, she began her descent down the dark stairwell. Torches lined curved wall but they did little to light the spiral stairwell. It seemed as if the darkness was unnatural down here, desperate to snuff out every bit of illumination. She tried calling a pool of light to the palm of her hand, but nothing happened. Odd. She glanced back at the door and considered going back.

Then a scream pierced the air.

With her breath caught in her throat, she continued down, not giving herself a moment's hesitation to stop and consider the consequences. Nearly everything had been stripped away from her at this point. Dignity, freedom, friendship—all taken with the Darkling's successful coup. Many of her friends had fallen in the early hours of the night, but she still had a chance to save Mal.

Alina began taking two steps at a time, and it seemed as if being so deep underground was taking its toll on her. Fatigue weighed on every inch of her being, eyes growing heavy even though she had only woken up an hour ago. She wondered if this was where the Darkling thrived, if he was weakest with the sun at its peak, if his power increased tenfold in dismal emptiness. Perhaps the rumors that he kept dungeons of his own beneath the Little Palace weren't so far-fetched.

When the stairwell came to an abrupt end, she surveyed the cell block in shock. Nearly every barred cell was packed with people, some with men and others with women. As she stood beneath the candlelight, few lifted their heads, their eyes widening. Those standing fell to their knees.

"Sankta!"

"Sankta Alina!"

She paled while their cries grew in numbers. Giving herself a mental shake, she let her feet carry her down the dark corridor and forced herself to look into every cell, avoiding their outstretched hands. Anguish and awe touched their faces as prayers escaping through trembling lips. Some were fanatic. Others simply looked at her, accusation growing in their eyes. Here she was, without an escort, either there to free them and leave them.

Alina lifted her hands and tried to focus on using the Cut. Careful not to harm anyone within the cell closest to her, she yanked her arms upward. Nothing happened.

She was too weak down here.

"Sankta?" a blonde girl around Alina's age murmured from the next cell. She took hold of the bars and peered out at her with large blue eyes, though those two orbs were her only saving grace. Her skin was caked with dried mud and where it had already chipped off, bruises had taken form, and one particularly nasty bruise was laid just over the tattoo of a sun.

It took Alina a moment to place her face. "Ruby?" Both she and Mal had trained with her at Poliznaya, assigned to the same regiment. She remembered her as a giggling, bubbling girl who made Alina feel hopeless in her skin. Now she could see the weariness of war in her once cheerful eyes.

"You remember me?" she whispered, voice fervent.

"I—yes. Do you know where Mal is?"

She blinked slowly before pointing down the corridor to the last cell, empty save for one slumped figure. Alina thanked Ruby, grit her teeth, and made her way past wavering arms to him.

He didn't lift his head as she came to a stop before the polished iron bars.

"Mal?"

No answer.

"Mal, please talk to me." She carefully lowered herself to the stone floor, trying to peer at his face through his mussed hair. Tears pricked at her eyes though she had sworn she had no more left to cry.

He lifted his head and looked her up and down before growling, "Get off your damn knees."

Alina went still.

"I said—"

"I know what you said," she mumbled, reaching through the bars and grabbing his hand. Her cheeks were already wet while she squeezed. "But either I stay like this or you stand up too."

Mal let loose a shuddering sigh, solid pain swimming in his deep blue eyes and muscles rigid under her touch. "I can't. Too injured. My chest hurts like hell. Bastard broke one of my legs too. Said I shouldn't even think about running."

She summoned a weak ball of light with her free hand and gasped. In the darkness, she was unable to see the terrible shape he was in. His torso was splattered with blood, the brutal cut from his shoulder to his heart congealed. One leg stretched out before him was bound tightly with the remains of his shirt as an attempt to set it right.

"He broke your leg?"

He nodded stiffly. "Guess my escape plan is out of the question."

"I'm sorry, Mal. This is all my fault," the words came out in a broken sob as she released his hand to wipe away the new onslaught of tears. "I'm so sorry. I'll find a Healer and bring them down here."

"He won't allow that."

"I'll beg him—"

"You'll do no such thing!" Mal gazed at her painfully while rubbing his temple. Silence stretched between them before he spoke again, "This is what's going to happen. You're going to find a way out of this hellhole. Forget about me. Go find Nikolai. He's your only chance."

She shook her head. "How can you say that? You didn't leave me. I won't leave you."

"You two are going to raise an army and burn this place to the ground, and you'll gut your rapist right in the middle of it."

Alina flinched, lowering her hands to the collar. His orders resonated in her head and refused to settle. She thought of the blanket the Darkling had thrown at her, felt the silk of the black kefta kiss her skin, and she knew at the moment she wouldn't be able to kill the man who had appeared in the banya when she thought herself alone against the world.

A gloved hand closed over her shoulder.

In the midst of their reunion, neither of them had noticed the cries of worship distort into wails of fear.

Cruel lips brushed her ear, firm thighs encasing her trembling figure between them. "Tell me, Alina, did I rape you?"

She watched Mal jerk forward and grit his teeth to hold in the inevitable shout of pain, and as the Darkling's arms encircled her waist, she was again powerless.

"Answer me."

Mal slammed his fists against the bars, knuckles already bloody from earlier attempts. "Fuck off, you irredeemable prick."

The Darkling's arms tightened and brought her closer against his chest, molding her against him. She stiffened at the feel of his obvious arousal pressing against her lower back. "Right here, tracker? And here I thought you didn't enjoy last night's display. Ah, wait. You did, didn't you?"

"Go. To. Hell."

He clicked his tongue and directed his attention back to the trembling girl in his arms. "Alina, as much as I enjoy your blissful silence, I did ask a question. Answer it or you'll be leaving your little friend down here in two perfectly symmetrical pieces."

"No," she sobbed, hanging her head.

"No what?"

Alina raised her head and gazed at Mal through her teary vision, watched him shake his head, watched his knuckles turn white as his fingers clenched the steel bars, watched his eyes widen in fractions before she spoke her next words. She pulled her eyes back down and whispered, "No, you didn't rape me…"

She could hear the deadly smirk in the Darkling's voice, the satisfied purr unhurriedly peeling away every restraint she harbored. "Now, isn't that interesting?" He stood, gathering Alina in his arms before turning away from Mal to address the other prisoners. "This is your saint, the girl you traded your lives for. This is the whore you worship."

Shame inflamed her cheeks while sobs and jeers were thrown in their direction, and to her horror, most were directed at her and not at the king who cradled her against the firm chest she chose to bury her face in.

"You'll waste away in this dungeon, boy," the Darkling sneered over his shoulder. "And I'll make her scream for centuries."

Alina put up no fight as he carried her out of the dungeon, thoughts too occupied with her own betrayal and Mal's expression twisting with devastation. She worried her bottom lip, wondering if she had spoken the truth. The Darkling had cornered her in the banya, then he'd stormed the palace and offered Mal's freedom in exchange for her proving her loyalty. Her consent had been dubious at least.

They were back in the corridor that housed the royal suites, and paling, she began struggling against him, slamming her palms against his chest. "Let me go!"

He halted in his steps before obliging, and she yelped as she was dumped at his feet. A sudden tearing pain in her scalp, and he led her by the hair, stumbling, through the closest door. It was a suite much like the king's, grand with its own sitting area, a door that most likely led to the adjoining bathroom, a gorgeous armoire intricately carved from cherry wood, a master bed covered with deep blue silks.

Her heart clenched at the sheer amount of model ships covering almost every surface.

"Familiar?" the Darkling drawled. "I heard that the prince had taken quite a liking to you." Not giving her a chance to respond, her dragged her to the bed and released her as he sat at the edge. "Over my knee."

She looked at him, bewildered.

"Now, Alina," he said, impatience wearing his voice.

She scrambled to her feet before timidly approaching and bending at the waist, still unsure of what exactly he had in mind. His arm came across her back and she was splayed across his lap in a moment's time, her bottom in the air, displayed for him. She could feel him pressing against her abdomen, and went white, turning her head to stare at him with wide eyes as she came to realization as to what he had planned.

"Was that so hard?" His fingertips skimmed over her leather boots before taking hold of the hem of her kefta and peeling it up to lay bare her skin. He hadn't provided her any undergarments, so when the kefta bunched above her hips, everything was exposed. A small whimper sounded in her throat while she buried her face in the silk bed sheets.

She could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he purred, "It isn't anything I haven't seen before. Now why am I about to punish you?"

Her brows knit together before she guessed, "Because I hit you?"

"You did raise your hand to your king. Give me another reason." He sounded nearly bored.

"I—I went to see Mal without your permission."

"Good girl," The Darkling praised, sweeping her hair to the side to delicately scrape a nail against the nape of her neck just below the collar. "Although I specifically instructed my oprichniki not to address you, I never gave you permission to wander alone. What is a pet without her leash? Disloyal, inconstant, willing to run away from a loving owner. Something like that needs to be punished. I want you to count for me."

She felt something slither along her skin, tracing the line where her thighs met her rear. A paddle fashioned from merzost, much like the leash had been. The first strike came down hard, and she hissed in pain and scrunched her eyes shut.

"Count. Or would your rather bark?"

"O—one," she forced out.

He hummed in approval before hitting her again, this time landing on her right cheek. A gasp of pain escaped her parted lips, but she continued as instructed, "Two."

The lashes continued, stinging sensitive skin that would no doubt be painful to sit on unless treated by a Healer, and she was surely not letting anyone that close to her. At seventeen, tears were rolling down her cheeks and fingers were twisting Nikolai's sheets.

At twenty, a scream of mercy ripped from her throat.

The paddle disappeared, but his hand was on her in an instant, soothing her with his ungloved touch and dipping between her thighs.

"No," she moaned pitifully, a twitching mess in his lap.

"Oh, Alina, I think someone's keeping a secret from me," his crooning voice crawled across her reddened skin, filling her with both guilt and elation. The Darkling explored her leisurely, circling her clit, slipping through her folds and teasing her slick entrance. Without realizing it, she had bit down on the wrung sheets and proceeded to whine into the fabric. Her chest heaved as he pushed his finger inside, then another.

He began working her into a frenzy, pumping his fingers while manipulating her clit with another. In no time at all, she was a bucking mess in his lap. Mind a fog, no qualms as to what he had done the night before, what he had yet to do. All that mattered now was her satisfaction, her immediate gratification, something that only he could give her. She reared her head up and shrieked as the crest of her release struck, one stroke pushing her over the edge in a surge of starlight exploding behind her eyelids.

If she had been in shambles before, she was in chaotic disarray now.

Heaving for air, she turned her head and gazed languidly at the Darkling, who met her eyes and brought his hand to his lips, running his tongue along slender fingers. His eyes were gleaming, bright and poisonous as mercury, while he licked his hand clean.

After slipping his glove back on, he eased her off of his lap onto the soft bed and stood, readjusting his kefta. "Do find time to have lunch, pet. And I expect for this occasion to continue later on, so be prepared."

She closed her eyes, barely registering the door closing after his departure. She laid on her back for several minutes, eyes shut, half-expecting him to return to finish what he started. A smile graced her lips when she heard the soft click of a lock come from her right.

"Alina?"

Her eyes snapped open, cautiously turning to look at the armoire.

It cracked open, and bright hazel eyes stared out.

"Nikolai?"

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this update out! Hope you guys can forgive little ol' me~ Now this is where we get into the thick of the plot, but we all love the dash of smut here and there, so that won't be going away anytime soon. As always, thanks for reading!