Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
PRIEST
T ension had been building inside me to the point of near madness, and I knew the very thing that would put me at ease.
I descended the stone steps one at a time, stopping in front of the musty dungeon where I peered through the metal bars, searching for the familiar glowering look.
“Back so soon, Christian?”
An ugly smile with a gaping hole stared back at me and my lips twitched slightly as I unsheathed my knife. It was stupid to taunt me, but some people never learn.
“You sure you want to taunt me today, Mother?”
She spat at my feet. “Pure evil. You are no son of mine.”
“Tough words for a dead woman,” I said lightly, stepping closer. “Let’s see how tough you really are.”
I slammed my fist into her side, right over her left kidney. She coughed, blood dripping down onto her shirt as she gasped for air.
“Wow, you must have kept a diary of every beating you’ve ever gotten,” she said, laughing maniacally. “That was my favorite move. I still remember the way your ribs cracked.”
I wrenched her off the chair, her muffled cry replacing her laugh as the metal crashed against the backs of her legs from where she was still bound.
“Fuck you,” I growled. This woman wasn’t fit to care for a fucking snake, never mind children. Yet, my father was so fucking blind, he’d left us in the hands of a monster to be forever damaged.
“Should I expect that next?” The buzzing in my ears got louder and louder until the only thing I could focus on was the rush of blood in my ears. “But then I bet you can’t even get it up, can you, boy?”
I shoved her away and she slumped back into her rusty seat, her eyes rolling back briefly before they met mine. She’d lost a lot of blood over the past few weeks, but I always administered a transfusion before it became a real issue. I needed her to endure the same amount of torture that I had. That my brother had.
She wouldn’t leave this torture pit alive.
My blinding rage dominated every fiber of my being, rolling like an unstoppable wave. My chest throbbed with pain from the memories dating two decades.
Knowing she’d gotten under my skin, a nasty laugh burst from her, cutting through me like an acid-coated knife. “I know you well, Christian.”
My hands balled into fists, the static in my ears growing louder.
Until a soft crunch came from behind me and I whirled around.
Time stopped as I was faced with Ivy’s horrified expression, her eyes roaming the scene around me. Cobra, the guard dog I had trained to protect Ivy using the scent from the clothes I’d instructed my men to lift from her Irish estate, stood next to her, hackles up and growling, perceiving me as a danger.
I’d rest easy knowing my trainers were successful, though now it might cost me my life.
An ear-splitting sound escaped her lips, her eyes wide and her pupils dilated, when she took in the sight of the woman behind me, her face bloody and her wrists bound.
When her voice turned raspy and she stopped screaming, her pale expression made the hairs on my neck rise.
I reached for her in an attempt to steady her and explain, but she fought me off, shoving me away with more strength than I thought her small frame was capable of and beelining for the stairs.
“You don’t understand,” I growled, trying to catch her legs but only managing to get kicked in the chin. I stumbled back, the sound of my adoptive mother’s mocking laugh from where she followed me into the corridor filling my ears.
It was the final straw for Cobra, who lunged at me, eyes black as he foamed at the mouth. I jumped to the side and she narrowly missed me, biting my prisoner in the leg instead.