Twisted Kingdom (Royal Elite #3) by Rina Kent

Due to the absence of windows, the only light coming through is from the tower’s opening. The walls are renovated, but they emanate the same darkness as before.

Wait.

I’ve taken this path from the storage room to the basement every day. I can imagine a little girl with pale skin and hair, walking through these tight, long halls alone at night, carrying a flashlight and struggling to drag a heavy bag.

“This is how I came to find you every night,” I whisper.

His lips twitch into a small smile. “I figured. Told you, Child Elsa was hardcore.”

“It used to be scary back then, all dark and silent,” I blurt. “I always sang to myself so I wouldn’t get captured by monsters.”

“Did it help?”

“No. The fact that I’d find you at the end of the tunnel is what kept me going.” I glance at him over my shoulder. “You kept me going.”

“You kept me going, too.” The smile still lifts his lips, but there’s no joy behind it. If anything, he appears a bit sad.

We arrive at an intersection. I take the right one without thoughts. After a few more minutes of walking, we stop in front of a metal door. It’s fingerprint protected.

The basement — or more specifically, the stairs that lead to the basement.

“This is it,” I murmur, fighting the trembling in my limbs.

“Whose fingerprint opens it?” Aiden asks.

“Mine, Dad’s, and Agnus.” I exhale. “Dad told me I can come here whenever I’m ready.”

“Who’s Agnus?”

“Dad’s right hand.”

“So that’s him.”

“You know him?” I ask.

“Jonathan mentioned him a time or two. Besides, you always talked about him back then.”

I raise a shaky finger and miss the screen. A red light blinks back at us.

Aiden cradles my hand in his and slowly places the pad on the fingerprint-recognising screen. It lights up in green.

Both of us take a deep breath as we start to step inside.

This is it.

We’re taking a trip into our past.

“Wait.” He holds up his hand. “Your phone.”

I blink. “Why?”

“Just give it to me.”

Frowning, I reach into my pocket and hand him my phone. Aiden brings out his own, powers off both devices and places them in front of the door.

“Why are you doing that?”

“No interruptions, remember?” He takes my hand in his again and we resume walking inside. An automatic light goes on in the stairs. This is new. There were no lights aside from my flashlight back then.

The metallic door clicks closed behind us.

I jump at the small sound, and Aiden strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.

To say I’m not scared would be a lie. I’m actually terrified.

Every step down the dark stony stairs is like those I took in my subconscious during my sessions with Dr Khan. What I find when I reach the bottom won’t be pretty.

Then Aiden’s touch registers, his warmth, his silent support. The fact he’s here with me fills me with a strange type of peace.

I can do this.

If I want to have a future with Aiden, I need to figure out the past first.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Kind of.” I breathe out. “Aren’t you scared?”

“I’m not scared, I’m cautious.”

“You should be. This place must bring back horrible memories.”

“No, I’m not cautious about this place or the memories associated with it. I’m cautious about how you’ll react after you learn the truth.”

If I was anxious before, then my state of mind is skyrocketing right now.

We arrive at the bottom of the stairs. I’m sucking air into my lungs as Aiden pushes the metallic door open.

Both of us freeze at the entrance.

The basement appears a lot smaller than in my memory. Back then, it was a large pitch, all dark and dirty and… horrid.

But that’s how people react to traumas. Everything is magnified, becoming bigger and scarier than it actually is.

The basement is in fact the size of a room, perhaps three to four metres length.

An automatic light shines on the dark grey walls and ground. There are no chains in the corner. Dad probably got rid of those. A lavatory takes their place.

Other than that, the entire basement is empty. Neither the walls nor the floor have been renovated; they look just how I remember them.

It’s clean now, though. There’s no smell of piss and vomit.

The air contains residual humidity and cigarettes. Who comes down here to smoke?

“Bring back anything?” Aiden’s questions pulls me back from my observations.

I shake my head and step inside. The door closes behind us.

Standing in the middle, I study my surroundings closely, trying to commit anything to memory.

This place is crowded with memories, but that’s not all they were for me. They were precious pieces of my childhood. I’ve been incomplete since I erased them.

Aiden releases my hand, and I feel the emptiness before I can see it. He strides to the corner with purpose and stops in front of the wall.

A shiver races down my spine and creeps into my soul.

Even though he’s facing away, I can almost see that small boy chained to the corner, hungry, thirsty, and bleeding.