Chapter 7
I sit in the foyer, watching the golden liquid shimmer in the light as I gently swirl the glass. There’s a strong, charred scent from whatever barrel it sat in. My rather deranged mind thinks back to the village and how I bet there’s a few good, charred pieces of wood to be utilized by whoever distills this.
Staring at nothing, I try to understand what crazy bastard may have attacked Coalfell…
Could this pyro be from outside our world, if not connected to Jane? From across the ocean? I’d be fucking shocked if it came from the kingdoms in the opposite direction of Skull’s Row—they only have their lofty, soft worlds because they’re too far from the cliff-lined coasts that men like me call home. They’d also know that we’d burn down their cities if they ever waged such an attack, no matter the distance or the mountains that separate us.
Does Jane know who attacked her village?
It’s almost disappointing how easy capturing her was. In our world, magic is a subtle trait granted only to a select few, tipping the scales of power until our society birthed what we have—mercenaries and warlords ruling over many of the lands, and pirating legends dominating the seas.
She’s only a healer, though.
And what a fucking pretty thing she is... is that why they want her? Zenith are all well-traveled, but even so, a true beauty like Jane is something scarcely happened upon. There are paintings of beautiful creatures—mostly of the sirens with their abnormally enchanting, oceanic allure—but that’s all we have. Seeing someone in the flesh is another ordeal—like a man at sea spotting a forgotten island with buried riches.
One can’t help but want to ensnare it.
I’ve had many pretty pussies, but there’s something fun about one sprouting up out of nothingness—with all this drama surrounding her—that makes me so damn curious. Granting her freedom within that dungeon will reveal who she is.
Will she try to injure me? Be forced to expose another magic of hers that she’s hiding? Assault another? Escape?
She’ll never escape, that I’m sure of. Standing at chest height, she doesn’t present much of a threat, and can only deliver damage when someone’s guard is down. Didn’t even go for my daggers when she was over my shoulder. I snort into the glass as it hovers near my lips—rippling the golden liquid—when I remember she tried to bite my thumb.
Jane’s just a snapping turtle.
I sip more of my drink, staring at a painting of an ocean framed in ornate bronze.
Perhaps one of the Zenith are wanting to travel overseas, where the lands are rumored to be in utter turmoil: perfect pillaging environment. A pretty healer would be quite the accessory.
The Council of Zenith only send one of their own for the most extreme circumstances. It’s annoying they haven’t told me why they want her, but I assume it’s because they know I’ll find out why. I always do.
Speaking into the glass as I take another sip, I mumble, “Miss Jane is hiding a large secret, I bet...”
I down the rest, slam it on a table, and stand to open the heavy front door, alcohol loosening my muscles. A few houses are scattered right outside for those traveling with their Zenith. I say to one of my men on guard, “Get Bones.”
I wait patiently as the message is delivered.
Emerging from a smaller establishment—suffused with a warm, golden glow from the inside—comes my most trusted man, his eyes swollen, and his nose definitely shattered. Despite the evident pain plaguing Bones, a mirthful laughter escapes my lips at the sight of his disheveled state. “Gotta admit, she disappointed me in how easy she was to catch, but she kicks like a damn mule.”
“Little bitch,” Bones grumbles, bitterness lacing his voice, cracking his knuckles. “Maybe I can break her feet as a sign of gratitude .”
“The Council wants her intact, unless necessary measures are required,” I reply, my gaze sweeping the darkness, sensing out any disturbances. “But sure, if she becomes a pain, you can do the honor.”
“Good, because I don’t care what they want. I want my nose intact.” His voice is stuffy, dried blood caking his nostrils. He’ll need the healing if he doesn’t want his breathing fucked up for the rest of his life.
“We’ll make her heal it. That’s why I called you over.”
He nods. “I also learned a few things about her. Villagers were very cooperative, although a few were loyal. She apparently appeared in Coalfell around the age of thirteen, out of the blue, orphaned. Refuses to talk about her life. Has even gotten a few proposals but turned them all down— they were willing to reveal truths about her the most. Kathleen, the blonde ,” he says, using his hands to accentuate his chest area, “is her only true friend. Won’t say a fucking word about her.”
He heaves a heavy breath through his mouth, his face no doubt raging with agony.
“Good. The more we know, the better. I’m not completely certain why I was left in the dark about Jane, but then again, maybe they don’t know anything about her, either—other than why they want her. I’ll speak to the villagers as soon as I can. Let’s clean you up, first.”
“I still say that’s an odd choice. They usually tell you everything .”
“Aye. Something’s important about her, and I want to find out what it is before we reach Skull’s Row.”
I re-enter the confines of our sanctuary as Bones closely follows, descending the worn stone stairs, and immediately I sense a great deal of anguish in the air—one of my more hidden skills. That anguish runs deep, staining the air with rancor. Sounds of muffled mania makes me move faster.
“What’s happening?” I demand, eyeing Jane’s door as the discordant sound of an enraged woman makes it seem like a damn torture chamber.
“She’s destroying the room,” one of the craggy guards dismissively responds, like she’s a pest.
I shove him to the side, swing the wooden bar upward, and open the bedroom door. The sight before me is utter chaos: the room is torn apart, blood staining the fabrics of the bed. She’s stabbing a pillow with a broken piece of glass in her bloodied hand, panting and snarling like a rabid animal.
She doesn’t look up from the bed, fixated on her brutal assault of the damn pillow.
I slice a scathing glare at the guard. “You didn’t hear this?”
“You said to let her suffer. Sounds like she’s doing a right job at that,” he says, placing a lazy hand on his hilt, peering in.
Idiot. Should have used my own men down here rather than the locals, but it’s too fucking late now.
Bones laughs as he peeks in, widening his eyes to get a better look. “Bitch is fucking nuts.”
My gaze narrows on Jane like she’s a wild cougar, especially as she pulls the broken shard through the last, good pillow, fabric tearing and goose feathers flying everywhere.
“How you doing, love?” I ask, holding my hands out like I won’t hurt her. She’s gone bat-shit crazy, and yet still took the time and effort to clean her hair and face.
This is more of what I was expecting.
“Really great,” she retorts, glaring at the pillow, still on her knees. A few white feathers are stuck in her frenzied hair.
I hold very still, devouring everything I can of her. “Whatever you fucking say,” I gesture with my head to the door, “You still need to heal Bones’ nose, Jane.”
She snorts, flicking those warm eyes up at me that are coated with a wild edge. “Nope. You need me alive, I’ve gathered. So, I know I don’t have to do shit, because you can’t kill me.” She points the shard at me. “And break my fucking ankles. Go for it. I’ll just heal them. Even with broken hands. I’ll find a way.”
Bones enters the room. “The fuck is wrong with this one? She’s like a personification of Skull’s Row.”
I watch how Jane stabs the pillow, right as Bones speaks. Well... that might be an idea. There’re thousands of people in Skull’s Row. Wouldn’t be hard to believe she was born there and left without anyone noticing.
But why is she so interesting to the Council? I take a step closer, hands still raised. “What do you want in exchange for healing Bones?”
“Go find another healer,” she grunts, tossing the pillow, eyeing the room like it‘s useless to her now, seeing as there’s nothing else to rip apart.
“Humor me, love. I’m kind of curious what it’ll take to get you to heal him.”
She throws her gaze at me, a flicker of her defense removed before it’s back up. Did she really have to clean her face and hair? She looks even more like a lord’s daughter, one that all the knights would fight for. Except I’m gathering that she’s the type to stab them in their sleep if they stole the covers in the night.
“Set me free,” she demands.
I snort. “No.”
“Then, find someone else,” she replies, monotone, with a shrug. Jane raises a judging brow at Bones, like she’s disappointed he’s not more damaged.
“You going to hurt yourself with that?” I nod to the shard in her hands.
She scoffs and rolls her head to face me. “What does that matter?”
“I have strict orders to bring you in alive, so it’s a little relevant,” I explain, taking one step closer.
Jane straightens her back, contemplating my words. The tear in her tunic—right at the collar—reveals her shoulder and collarbone. It’s almost like an invitation to let my gaze wander and take in her feminine shape, considering many things.
I still can’t believe this woman is wanted like she’s a warlord herself.
“Well, when you’re done staring at me,” she finally says, unabashed. “You need to understand one thing—I will go out on my terms. Don’t care why the Council wants me. It’s my life, which means my death.”
Why the fuck am I getting hard? She gives me commands like she’s got a secret army hidden away somewhere. Taming her savagery would be quite fun... ferocious beauties like Jane are immensely rare, even in Skull‘s Row.
That’s only frequently found among the sirens.
“You‘re just a sharp little fucking rose,” I muse, completely entertained; it’s been a boring fucking two weeks searching for her. Each step I take heightens her vigilance like she’s ready to pounce if I get too close. “Why have you been hiding this whole time in a boring village?”
“Going to write a book about me?”
I push down any thoughts about laughing. “How about this—” I begin, eager to see her reaction. How can I not? I have to stoke this flame. She’s no doubt the type to respond to provocation rather than torture. “They offer to kill you, I’ll take you as my concubine.”
The singular laugh from Jane carries a tone of disgust, but she doesn’t fail to look me over like it‘s a thought that doesn‘t offend her. That just makes me all the more fucking intrigued.
I’ll unwind her, one way or another.
“Lucky me,” she grinds out. “You’re the worst of them.”
I place a hand on my chest, feigning an expression of feigned sincerity. “I’ve never claimed to be a knight in shining armor.”
The corner of her lips quiver like she might find me funny. But she’s resolute, and her judgmental gaze fixes firmly on me. “You’re deranged.“
I glance briefly at Bones and then back at her, finally laughing. “Says the woman who tore a whole room apart.” I motion to the shredded pillow and bloodied feathers in her lap. “With her blood smeared all over the damn place.”
With sanity no longer guiding her, she lunges right at me, feathers flying.
I grin wildly, expecting this.
She might be much quicker than most women, and can take most grown men by surprise, but I’m a fucking legend for a reason. Right as she swings her arm toward me, I grab her wrist as the shard hits my vambrace, disarming the bloody shard. Not once do I remove my gaze from hers, fixing both my legs on either side of her, pinning down her arms against the bed. She squirms under my pressure.
Now, my cock is hard for every reason that makes sense, especially as her rapid movements rub the crotch of my leather pants.
Her eyes are wide, and finally, the fear is unfiltered: deep, all-consuming dread. A sliver of my humanity recognizes the wild, primal distress. She’s cornered, and this is her mind processing it. How many men have I killed that looked at me like this before I ripped their hearts out? Or gouged out their eyes before carrying on about my day like none of this violence matters?
This is different, and I know it. None of them were wanted alive by the Council, which means, I’m not allowed to think about killing her because that’s not the deal. With death removed, her humanity speaks to me more than it otherwise would have.
“Enjoying yourself?” I ask as she continues to writhe underneath my weight. I have both of her wrists pinned above her head now, my weight restraining her. I almost want to warn her to stop moving so much, especially when her hips rock in just the right way in an attempt for freedom. My unhelpful cock is already twitching for me to grab a fistful of that pretty hair and hold her still.
She stops, as if realizing the futility. I stare into honey eyes that long lashes whisp over. With a quiver in her voice, one that I feel disappoints her more than she wants to let on, she nervously asks, “What’re they going to do to me?”
Ah, fuck . My cock is slightly less hard now. It’s only fun when she’s feisty.
“I don’t know.” I lower my face slightly, half expecting her to headbutt me or bite my face. “But like I said, I’d happily take your crazy ass with me. Peace is quite nice, but it does get a little boring.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Do you really want to get into that now, love?“ I ask, an unhinged gleam in my eyes. “Or should we first talk about whatever the fuck is wrong with you ?”
I’ll learn every shadow of her history before delivering her to the other Zenith. No matter what it takes. I’m not turning Jane in until I know who exactly I’ve got in my hands. If I have to fuck it out of her, then it’ll simply be one of the more enjoyable interrogations I’ve led.
The more I get from her, the more I’m understanding that perhaps the Council hoped I would deliver her without question. Which means whatever she hides might be tempting enough for me to break a few rules.
We all have a tendency to be selfish, so they’d be well aware of this trait within me.
Either way, it’s all a mystery and I love solving these riddles.
She averts her gaze, which was the wrong move. Now, she’s exposed her pale, soft neck to me, and I quickly lean in. Her resurfaced struggle is quite useless underneath me, especially as I lean the weight of my chest into hers, quickly whispering into her ear, ensuring my voice is hot on her skin. “You tell me why they want you—every truth—and I’ll help keep them away from you. I think your response here shows you know they won’t let you go alive... but I can keep death at bay.”
She subdues, her heart pounding so hard I can feel its frantic rhythm against my chest, her soft breasts pressed right against my leather armor. “Why should I trust you?” she breathes out, but I hear the interest.
I hear the bargain.
“I’m a man of opportunity, and I want to know what the Council isn’t sharing.” I run my nose against her hairline, smelling her. It’s pure ash and smoke. I catch the way, for an unguarded moment, her body betrays her as it relaxes. I grin, although she can’t see that. That’s it. That’s my way through to her. “Think about it, little one.”
In an instant, I release my grip and slide off of her, not giving her enough time to try anything she’ll regret. Once I’m at the foot of the bed, the woman is still splayed out, staring hopelessly at the ceiling.
“Hope you like sleeping in broken glass.”
“You were supposed to kill me for this,” she confesses, breathing heavily, lowering her gaze as she tries to stare right through me.
I pause, considering that. “What?”
“I don’t want to die at their hands.” Her eyes aimlessly move all over, staring at nothing in particular, lying among her carnage like it’s nothing bothersome, blood still leaking from the lacerations of her palms. “They can’t have me.”
I need more of this from her.
Time to play a very careful game of chess. “Heal Bones for me, and I will have them clean this up,” I offer, using a gentler tone.
Her gaze finally latches to something in the room, unblinking.
Jane deliberates for a long while before giving a single, curt nod.