Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)
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Read between March 25 - March 28, 2025
7%
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He broke something inside of me far more than just my heart. He broke my will. My drive. My voice. He broke down my very spirit, and I let him.
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I believe that Midas does care for me, in his own twisted way. But it’s not healthy, and it’s not enough. It’s not what I deserve. I don’t think I’ll ever have the kind of love that I crave.
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As sadness overtakes my anger, I wonder what’s wrong with me. Why couldn’t he love me? Truly love me?
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I gave him my heart, and I was too young, too stupid to see that his adoration was for my gold, not me.
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Maybe this is all I’m allowed to have.
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Numb. I need to stay numb. Unfeeling, uncaring, behind a thick wall where he can’t affect me ever again.
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I hate that he’s so good at this. I don’t want him to hold me, and yet, it was all I ever wanted for so damn long, and he knows it.
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When I wake up, I’ll make sure my heart is hardened. Come morning, I’ll make sure it only plays a song for me. 
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I have hated, resented, and been ashamed of myself for long enough. I don’t want to harbor thoughts like that anymore.
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“That’s your fear talking, and it’s a weakness that you have to shove down before it towers over you.”
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“Shove down weakness, and strength will rise. You can’t be strong without conquering those weaknesses first.
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We tell ourselves twisted lies to tangle around our wicked truths, all so that we can get caught up in the bind and not have to face bare regrets.
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“You caught me,”
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“I’ll do that anytime you need catching, Goldfinch.”
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“But I could’ve gilded you,” I repeat. “Then you’d be a statue stuck right here on the stairwell, and I don’t think gold’s your color, Commander.” 
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“I disagree. Gold has quickly become my favorite.” 
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“You’re very floppy.” 
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“You’re very hard,”
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“You’ve no...
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“Are you going to use that information against me?”
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“My intention is never to use you, Goldfinch.”
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“Your ribbons seem to like me.” 
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“Well, they don’t have brains, so…” 
32%
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“My own good was stuck on a pirate ship, with an aura like a beacon that flared across the Barrens,” he grits out, a thick spun voice meant to tie knots around me. “My own good was cowering before men who were nothing—fucking nothing—in comparison to her.”
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“My own good hated me, fought me, argued with me, but I didn’t care, because I watched her slowly come out of her shell, peeling back one layer at a time, and it was stunning.” He raises a finger in front of my face. “I got one touch. One taste, and if it was an act of selfishness, then you should know, it certainly wasn’t one-sided, Auren.”
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“I’m saying that you are my own good. And for you, I gave you a choice, but you chose him.”
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“I don’t choose him. Not anymore. I’m choosing me.”
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“I’m glad you’re choosing you,” he says quietly, and my lips part, like I want to swallow the rumble of his cadence. “You are?” I go completely still as he moves his hand and grips my chin, like he wants to make sure I’m paying attention. I am. “Yes, Goldfinch. Because I’m choosing you, too.”
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Why is it that a man can make you feel like nothing, when you have given him everything? 
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I’m not trapped. I’m not weak. I’m not his.
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“You say the word, and it’s done. You hear me?” His hand lifts, and he snaps his fingers so loud that I flinch. “That quick, Auren. I’d end him in a breath, in a room full of people who’d run screaming, with monarchs who’d band together against me. But if you wanted me to do it, I would. So say it.” 
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You’re not the villain in my story.”
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“I am,” he says without remorse, his sharp jaw tight with tension. “But I’ll be the villain for you. Not to you.”
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“What do you want, Auren? Admit to me what you really want.”
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“You, Slade. I want you.”
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“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Goldfinch. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”
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“I want all of you,” he tells me, a newfound hunger in the depths of his green eyes that stirs heat beneath my skin. “Every piece, every memory, every minute, every inch. This isn’t going to be some casual dalliance. This isn’t going to be temporary. I want you soul, mind, and body. I want your trust and your thoughts. I want your past, your present, your future. So make very certain that you want me for the right reasons. Be certain that you’re choosing this, because once you do, there’s no turning back.”
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“Love happens in all kinds of ways. Fast. Slow. In bits and pieces, or immediate. Filled with lust, one-sided longing, a snap realization never noticed before. Deeply. Thoroughly. Love is a whisper we didn’t hear or a sound that drums in our ears and drowns out everything else.”
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“It’s fucking torture to have you stand there and tell me you want me, and not be able to do anything about it. But I’m a patient male, and as soon as I’m able, I’m going to touch and taste every inch of you. I’m going to have you writhing and begging, and I’ll give you every bit of pleasure I can wring from your delectable body,” he murmurs in a wicked promise. “The moment that sun dips, Goldfinch, you’re mine.”
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There comes a point in your life when you have to choose between having regrets and the possibility of making mistakes.
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She settles my magic, calms my anger, calls to my fae nature. She’s a burst of light in my dark, erupting life in the rotting depths of my soul. 
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“You’d let Rissa and Polly go with you?”
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“Go with us,”
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“If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of ...
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“I’m going to let that slide once.”
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“But hear me now, Auren. You are not nothing.”
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“You got in trouble,”
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“Shut it,” I grumble. “I didn’t mean it like that, anyway.”
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“Good, because this is how it is, Gildy. You’re one of us now. We always have each other’s backs....
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“Don’t you worry about me,” he retorts. “I want you to worry about you. I want you to be safe even when I can’t stand guard.”
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