Chapter 2
Reverie
After the battle in the coliseum with the two Gerendel, I was allowed back to my room.
I took off my battle leathers and headed to the shower after using my new ability to seal the door. Oren had used it several times, but I hadn’t remembered its name. Then I remembered my mother teaching me about some of the more common abilities, and this one I’d gained was called Aegisseal.
If I closed my eyes, I could recall just how she sounded, her beloved voice echoing in my mind: “Aegisseal is the act of sealing with protective force, or creating an impenetrable barrier that not only closes but safeguards what lies within.”
Unfortunately, the duration depends on the wielder’s strength, and mine was uncertain at the moment. It wasn’t only my body that was tired; my spirit was too.
I took a quick shower, carefully avoiding glancing in the small mirror above the sink, then collapsed onto my bed and buried my face in the pillow. I swear I could still smell Nathan’s scent. The terrible, no-good assholes in charge here made sure I knew this was his room.
They believed it would hurt me to learn this.
They were mistaken.
Knowing I lay my head at night exactly where Nathan’s had lain brought me comfort instead of the pain it was meant to cause.
It was the only comfort I was likely to get.
Every day, I faced some form of torture, whether physical or mental.
It all depended on Selene’s mood and, in some cases, the Brummond himself.
I sighed. No matter how intense the physical pain was, it couldn’t compare to the mental torture.
That was the most challenging part to deal with.
Knowing my dad had made it through this hell was one of the things that kept me going.
There was no way I’d shame him by letting these evil bastards break me.
Fighting in the coliseum was another way I released some of the poison from my soul. Without that outlet, I would be much closer to breaking. If Ubel or Selene knew how much I needed to fight, they’d see to it that I never entered another battle.
One of the most essential skills I learned for my survival was to compartmentalize.
I had to mentally pack certain experiences into boxes, some sealed and wrapped in orange caution tape with "DO NOT OPEN" written on top. Those would never be unpacked. I wouldn’t give my tormentors the satisfaction of revisiting those experiences, nor would I allow my Faction to be tortured by discovering what was done to me.
Selene was a demon from hell.
Her preferred form of mental torture was to tell stories about what happened to my dad in her tender care, and her plans for my mother and Faction when the DF captured them.
I couldn’t even think about the things she’d described, or I’d never stop screaming—those were kept in a few of the caution tape boxes.
Sometimes, she was in the mood to torture me physically.
You’d think that would be what I hated most, but in those moments, I’d managed to let myself drift away; sometimes I was with one of my Faction, and in others, I was safe at home with my parents.
I preferred it over listening to her talk about how she was going to dispose of the people I loved.
I had no idea how I would regain what I’d lost here.
I sighed, then got up and dressed in a clean pair of pants and a shirt.
It was late, but I knew the dining hall would still be serving food for a few more hours.
Pulling on my boots, I made sure to tuck my knife inside.
I’d learned quickly that danger lurks around every corner here.
It was highly frowned upon for me to defend myself—Selene had made that clear in several of her sessions, but old habits die hard, and I was determined to survive this place.
Dead bodies couldn’t tell tales.
I braided my hair tightly against my scalp from memory.
I’d cut it off if I thought I could get away with it.
It had been used against me too many times to count.
I couldn’t bear to look at my reflection anymore.
The scar on the side of my forehead was still ugly and red, bringing back memories I couldn’t handle right now.
On the bright side, since I had arrived, I’d acquired several new abilities.
I thought all that I had gained while at Emberhold would fade because of the separation from my Faction.
To my surprise, the opposite happened. I actually continued to gain abilities as the months went on, and I wondered if my Faction had experienced this, too.
I needed to keep this hidden from Selene and Ubel at all costs. She liked to take me to her apartment and torture me at least a couple of times a week. Not defending myself was beyond difficult, but I knew even with the new abilities, I was nowhere near as strong as she was… yet.
The loss of Beatrice had left her more unhinged than ever, according to the few acquaintances I’d made since arriving here. I used the word “acquaintance” because no one wanted to be a friend. Most were too afraid to associate with me, worried it would draw her attention.
The isolation didn’t help me acclimate to this new world; I’m sure that was Selene’s intent. Of course, she wasn’t my only tormentor.
If Selene were a demon, then Ubel Brummond was Lucifer himself.
I never forgot the sadistic bastard was Selene’s boss.
He allowed everything that was done to me.
Ubel also enjoyed keeping me informed about what the guys were doing, apparently having spies deep inside Emberhold.
He tried convincing me they’d moved on and found another Nexus, hoping to bring me to tears.
Of course, he was unaware that our bonds hadn’t weakened. Aside from losing our ability to communicate, I could still feel their grief and rage at my absence. I had no doubt they were doing everything they could to find me.
I couldn’t doubt their love and devotion to me—that would be the one thing that might break me.
Leaving the room, I headed to the dining hall to eat. It was hard to get anything down, but I had no choice. Keeping up my strength was paramount to surviving.
It helped to imagine Zeke’s voice, “Eat my Treasure, I need you healthy.”
I’d gotten good at pretending what each one of my men would say to encourage me, and “heard” their voice at the time it was most needed.
It helped me do what I needed to do to survive and not just give up.
I shook myself out of my thoughts. I couldn’t afford to get lost in my head. Kristine would love nothing more than to catch me unawares. I’d taken several beatings from her and her men until Selene made it clear that I was not Kristine’s to torture.
Sometimes that kept me safe—sometimes it didn’t.
Entering the hall, I took in everyone's positions. Most were insignificant to me. But I did notice Evan was sitting at a table, being his usual loud and obnoxious self. He was one of Kristine’s men.
I was shocked to find out she already had a well-established Faction here.
Of course, she was Nexus; I suspected the serum played a significant role in that.
Approaching the buffet, I grabbed a plate and filled it with whatever was nearby. Everything tasted the same to me; it was all just fuel I needed to survive.
I felt a hard bump on my right shoulder. “Move over, bitch. Let your betters eat.”
Great, Kristine was here to brighten up my evening.
I didn’t acknowledge her and turned, making my way to a table far away from the one she usually sat at. I’d learned quickly after I was approved to fight in the coliseum, not to allow her to provoke me.
The one time I did, I couldn’t lie on my back for a week. Selene punished Kristine, too, but her punishment was just a slap on the wrist. Strangely enough, I thought it was more about possession than anything else. Whether she loved or hated you, she was tightfisted with her things.
When it came to Selene, either emotion could get you killed.
The one thing I had on my side was that Ubel didn’t take kindly to losing money, and even Selene didn’t want to irritate him.
I’d hate to meet Trent Storm if he were Ubel’s boss. But he was only seen from a distance, lately at the coliseum, and I was told that was rare—so high up that only his silhouette was visible. Otherwise, he remained a mystery to everyone here.
It was ironic that Selene didn’t see that her punishment kept me out longer than fighting with Kristine did.
I sighed. There were many ways to punish that left no mark, and Selene was skilled in all of them.
If I ever gained enough power to kill the bitch, I might challenge my mother for the opportunity.
“We decided to sit with you. I wouldn’t want you to feel lonely, way over here by yourself." Kristine, along with Evan, sat down at my table. “I’m sure my company is better than that redhead bitch you sat with back at Emberhold.”
I winced at the mention of Chloe. Her friendship had been priceless to me, and even though I wouldn't want her near here, I missed her every day.
Evan leaned over and kissed Kristine on the cheek. “I can guarantee that. No one can compete with your greatness.”
Her relationship with Evan upset me on a different level.
Not that I wanted anything to do with the evil bastard, but because he resembled Jet to a disturbing degree.
He was much smaller, and he had green eyes instead of Jet’s beautiful, soft brown, but other than that, he could’ve been his brother.
Kristine smiled briefly but then returned her attention to me. “Don’t think just because you’re winning in the coliseum that Selene or the Brummond are going to suddenly go easy on you.”
“I don’t think that.” I lowered my eyes to my plate and started eating as quickly as I could. Using every bit of willpower I had not to slap a bitch. Being meek didn’t suit me, but I’d learned to swallow what pride I had left. I trusted that my time was coming; I just had to be patient.