Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The climb from oblivion to consciousness was slow and a level of hell Merrill had never experienced. His head felt as if it was caught between the jaws of a dragon while also being ripped apart.
The rest of him fared no better.
He strove to shrink away from the unending, unbearable agony to no avail. He longed to sink into the darkness of nothingness, where the pain couldn’t lash him with such fervor. Slumber was as distant as the days before the humans on Earth , forcing him to face the reality of his situation. He wasn’t healing. And there was only one reason for that.
Dozens of cuts swathed his arms and upper body. Even his legs. But more than the blades had carved his skin. Cold , unforgiving metal bit into his wrists as he hung, his arms outstretched to the sides. His legs no longer worked, and his captors had made sure to suspend him so his knees wouldn’t touch the ground.
Merrill clawed through the pain and attempted to reach Varek through their mental link—only to be met by silence. A quiet that hadn’t bothered him at Stonemore . Now , it left him deeply unsettled.
He clenched his teeth against the merciless, unending torment that racked his body. He wanted to bellow and yank against the bindings, but each breath was excruciating torture. Merrill didn’t want to become lost in the madness of pain. He needed to know how many surrounded him and where he was without anyone being aware. He kept his eyes closed and expanded his hearing to listen.
There was movement all around him: the soft whistle of wind that cooled his heated skin, the crackle of a fire to his front and just to the right, the scrape of a wooden spoon against a pot the shing of a blade being sharpened on a wet stone, the crunch of shoes on grass…
It hit him then that he wasn’t in a dungeon as Varek had been but outside. And by the lack of noise, away from the city. In fact, his captors hadn’t uttered a single syllable.
The air stirred to his left. There was rapid hand movement, and Merrill realized the Orgate warriors were communicating using some kind of hand signals. Then he caught a whiff of bitter wine. Anger churned as the scent circled him slowly, intently. The entity was focused on him, no doubt looking for signs that he was conscious. Merrill had a slight advantage for the moment, and he wanted to keep it.
He sought out any sound that would tell him if Katla had been taken with him. She had been in his arms after they’d shared a kiss like no other. He had smelled the entity a millisecond before it struck, giving him no time to warn her or retaliate. She had been yanked from his arms as everything exploded. He’d tried to shift, but everything went black.
Until now.
How had the entity found them so swiftly? More importantly, how had the warriors crossed several hundred miles through the Ferdon Woods , made their way across the rolling hills and into another larger forest, then over the mountains to the valley? They hadn’t done it alone, that was for sure. Someone or something had brought the warriors here. Could it be the entity? Or was it Villette ?
She had an alliance with a faction of Orgate warriors. They had attacked Shaw at the palace. All the Kings knew that. They should have anticipated that Villette would turn to that group. The Kings should have been prepared. Merrill , most of all.
He couldn’t pick up any sounds that indicated Katla was there. She could be there and unconscious, but maybe they kept her elsewhere. He hoped she was still at the valley and unharmed. Because the alternative was something he couldn’t consider. He should’ve brought them to Iron Hall the first time he sensed something. At the very least, he should’ve called for Rhi . Instead , he had put Katla in the entity’s crosshairs.
Footsteps drew near. Merrill kept his breathing even as someone stopped before him. He knew what was coming when he heard the ssh of a blade being drawn from its scabbard. He didn’t jerk away when the weapon touched his neck, even though he wanted to. The warrior put pressure on the edge so it sank deep. Agony exploded like fragments from a bomb, hurtling through him in every direction, ripping tendons, burning muscle, and carving bone. Merrill bellowed inside his head, over and over, even as blood welled and rolled down his neck and chest.
The blade remained in his neck for several more seconds before the warrior withdrew it and walked away. But the pain didn’t diminish. It rolled through him continually, like waves breaking on the shore. There was no respite, no second of relief. Just incessant, implacable torment.
How long had they been cutting him? Had it been hours? Days ? Katla . He needed to know where she was.
Varek might have gotten to her. If she was injured, Con could heal her. And if she saw what happened, she could tell them.
If she was alive.
Another bellow roared inside his head, this one with a different kind of anguish.
He gagged at the bitter wine smell that infused his nostrils as the entity pressed against his cheek. The pain in his body and heart was too much. He couldn’t pretend to be unconscious anymore. It was time he learned his fate. He had faced many enemies in his life, but he had been on top then. The one with the power and might, dominance and influence.
This time was different. He suspected it might be the end of him.
There were a great many things Merrill wished he had done. Even more things he wished he had said—not just to Varek and Con but also to Katla . He had gotten used to always knowing that another day would be around the corner. Knowing he had time. It had blinded him to the fact that he had let opportunities with Katla pass him by.
But if he had known her kiss would shake him to his very foundation, he never would have held back. Not once had he looked for a mate. He had known he would never find one. Then , he had.
Now , she was gone.
And his time had run out.
The pressure on his face intensified as the entity shoved his head to the side. Merrill had never cowered to anyone before. He wasn’t about to start now. He yanked his head away and opened his eyes to the night. The pressure vanished as the smell moved to the side. Merrill looked around the camp. There were eighteen red-haired warriors, all wearing sleeveless tunics with gold and silver armbands around their biceps.
They were in a small forest clearing. Twelve men and six women stared at him. It took everything in Merrill to get one foot and then the other under him to stand against his enemies. Being upright took some strain out of his arms, allowing some relief. But the longer he stood, the harder it was to stay on his feet. The smiles on the warriors’ faces said they knew exactly what was happening to him. Merrill lifted his chin defiantly.
He might not be able to say, “ fuck you ,” but his expression said it for him.
There was movement behind him an instant before a blade sliced across his back. Dots edged his vision from the pain. He tried to remain standing, but his knees buckled, yanking him down. Blood poured down his back. The warriors walked toward him, drawing swords, daggers, and spears. He held his head high as they began stabbing him.
“ We need to get there faster,” Katla said as she hurried up the mountain. She had kept a hurried pace, sometimes even running, but it didn’t feel as if they were covering ground quickly enough.
“ I can’t fly us there,” Derek said. “ They’ll see us, and it will likely do more harm than good.”
Katla ducked beneath a low-hanging tree branch and kept moving despite the surge of anger that made her want to lash out at something. Anything . Or any one . “ We don’t know what they’re doing to him.”
“ He’s a Dragon King . They can’t kill him,” Kora said.
Katla glanced at her. “ Unless Villette is helping them.”
“ There’s a way we can get there quicker,” Derek said.
“ What way?” When he didn’t answer, Katla looked over her shoulder to find that the couple had stopped. She halted and swung to face them fully. “ What way?” she demanded, her voice louder and her fury bubbling to the surface.
Derek took a few steps toward her. “ You .”
“ Me ?” she asked in confusion. Then it dawned on her. “ You think I can jump us there?”
Kora glanced at Derek and shrugged. “ You’ve done it a few times now.”
“ Without knowing what I was doing. And I was angry those times.” Katla balled her hands into fists as sparks began to dance around her.
Derek quirked a black brow. “ You’re angry now.”
She was, but she was also scared and worried. “ I don’t know what to do. If , by chance, I can do it, I might take us miles away and make things worse.”
“ Or you could take us right to him,” Kora said in a soft voice.
Katla looked away as she wrapped her arms around herself. Merrill had held her just hours before, kissed her. Derek and Kora were right. She had to try. Walking would take too much time, and Derek in dragon form would only cause mass hysteria. And the entity would be on the lookout for dragons.
“ I don’t know where Orgate is,” Katla said.
Derek pointed to the top of the mountain. “ Don’t worry about the city. Take us there.”
That seemed easy enough. Katla faced the peak and concentrated on it as she held out her hand. Kora took it. Katla imagined herself standing at the top, but they didn’t move. She closed her eyes and tried again, but they still didn’t move.
“ You’re thinking too hard,” Derek said.
Katla yanked her hand away from Kora and started walking again. “ I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“ And you never will if you don’t try,” he snapped.
“ Derek ,” Kora admonished.
“ She can’t try it a few times and then just give up,” he argued.
Katla knew they were right. Too much was at stake. But she was terrified of making a mistake. She had jumped locations three times now, each without knowing where she was going or how to do it. And all three had been in situations where she’d been facing off against her enemies. How did she recreate those scenarios without said adversaries?
“ I’m not giving up,” Katla replied.
“ Prove it.”
She halted at Derek’s taunt. Katla wished she had held on to Merrill tighter. She wished she understood the power Villette had given her. She wished…for so many things.
“ You said it was anger,” Derek continued. “ Use that.”
Katla released a deep breath. “ I can’t fail.”
“ Then don’t.”
Kora walked around to face her. “ You’re scared. I know that feeling. It was my companion for entirely too many years. You aren’t in this alone. We’re here with you.”
“ Without any idea of what we’re walking into,” she said.
Derek came around to stand beside Kora . “ Merrill walked into several of those situations to help Kora and me. We’re willingly doing the same.”
Katla swallowed. “ All right.”
“ Good . Forget the fear,” Kora said. “ Concentrate on the anger.”
Derek nodded. “ Tell me about the last time you teleported.”
That was easy enough. “ Merrill was unconscious after being attacked. The entity came at me.”
“ What did you feel?” Kora pressed.
Katla stiffened as she recalled the alarm, but beneath it was a cold, uncontrollable rage.
“ Let it suffuse you,” Kora told her.
Katla closed her eyes as her magic surged through her arms and into her palms.
“ What did you think about right before you teleported?” Derek asked.
She frowned and shook her head. She hadn’t been thinking about anything. But …that wasn’t true. She wanted to get Merrill somewhere safe. Dragon land offered that.
“ Stay with it,” Kora urged.
Derek’s voice sounded as if it came through a tunnel as he said, “ Keep that feeling close and think about where you want to go.”
Katla let the rage boil over and focused on the top of the mountain.
“ Open your eyes,” Derek urged.
Katla did and found Kora grinning. Derek dipped his chin before looking to the side. Katla followed his gaze and found them standing atop the mountain. “ I did it,” she murmured in shock.
Once more, oblivion spat him out and forced him into waiting misery. Merrill opened his eyes to see daylight. How long had he been unconscious this time? He was weak and growing weaker each time they cut him. The blades were made from the same metal as the chains and caused unending pain. The manacles weren’t making things any better, but there was no getting out of them. Not without help.
For the first time in his life, Merrill felt utterly defenseless. Vulnerable like never before. And he fucking hated it. Magic had always been a part of him, like his blood or organs. Yet he couldn’t feel—or even sense—it now. He knew it was there, but it didn’t stop the panic each time he reached for it, and it didn’t respond.
It was more than his lack of magic, though. He could no longer hear the dragons’ roars. Merrill hadn’t realized it, but no matter where he went on Zora or how far from dragon land, his enhanced hearing always picked up the dragons. They were silent now, just as they had been on Earth . And it terrified him. He strained to pick up a distant roar or the flap of a wing.
But just as with his magic, nothing but spine-chilling, unnatural silence reigned.
What did the entity and the warriors want from him? Why hadn’t they killed him? Maybe they had tried. The not knowing was almost worse. There was only pain and more pain, heaped upon uncertainty and panic.
And rage.
The longer he was here, the more riled he became. Merrill’s heart raced as he spiraled out of control, pushing against the boundaries he had tested at Stonemore . That alarmed him more than anything. He couldn’t tip past the point of no return. He wouldn’t come back from it.
He seized upon the image of Katla’s face. He recalled the feeling of her soft body against his and the sweet taste of her kisses as he plundered her mouth. Her sensual curves. The wanton moans that had fallen from her lips. The longer he concentrated on her, the calmer he became until the anger simmered. Yet it still festered.
The entity came up behind him, shattering his concentration. Its rancor was unlike anything Merrill had encountered, and it was directed at him. As if Merrill had personally done something to it. Whatever it was.
The warriors in the camp stared as if they knew what was coming. It was all the warning Merrill got before the torture began. The warriors descended like wolves upon a kill, cutting, hacking, and stabbing everywhere. He heard the crack of a whip before several barbs sank into his back, only to be yanked away, taking flesh.
Merrill held back his shouts for as long as he could, and swore he heard a laugh before his eyes rolled back in his head.