Chapter 34 #2
How long had I been here? Hours? Days? Time blurred into an endless cycle of pain.
Balthazar loomed over me, the branding iron glowing white-hot in his grip.
“Go ahead and kill me,” I rasped, my voice barely more than a breath. Weak, delirious—half in this world, half somewhere else.
The brand came down again.
Agony detonated across my spine, fire ripping through my nerves. I howled, my body convulsing as my mind disintegrated.
Then, I was no longer here.
The scent of smoke shifted. The screams changed.
Ancient Rome. The arena.
The roar of the crowd thundered in my ears. The sun blazed above, merciless and unrelenting. Blood painted the sand beneath me. The clang of steel, the desperate grunts of dying men—it was all real, too real.
I fought, my blade slicing through the chaos. But even then, the question gnawed at me—
Was I fighting for honor? Or had I always been a pawn in someone else’s war?
I saw them—my comrades falling one by one, their bodies broken, their cries swallowed by the spectacle of violence.
Something was wrong. It had always been wrong.
I shook my head, struggling to separate past from present. Emily. Our room. Safety. I had to remember.
Then—another strike.
The iron seared deep, yanking me back into the past, pulling me under.
Rome. The war. The blood.
I was there again.
Fighting for my life.
Get it together. You can withstand this torture.
I breathed through my cracked lips, dragging myself back to the present as the flashback faded. My body screamed in agony, but I locked it away, compartmentalizing the pain the way I had in the arena.
Balthazar’s voice thundered through the room. “Where is my daughter? Where’s Olivia?”
Raul—Costa—whatever name he wanted to go by, scoffed beside him. “Let’s poison him. I can make the belladonna stronger.”
No.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to retreat into some safe place in my mind. But there was no escape.
The pungent scent of poisoned herbs invaded my nostrils, burning my throat.
Balthazar’s voice came from everywhere—from within me, outside, the walls, and the air. It wrapped around my mind like a snake, suffocating, inescapable.
“Where’s Emily?”
The hallucinogenic grip of belladonna tightened, dragging me into its depths. My vision wavered. My body shuddered. Breathing became a battle; every inhale was a ragged, broken gasp.
Hold on. Fight it.
But my mind was slipping. My mouth moved without permission, the words tumbling free, unbidden, and raw.
“I didn’t mean to kill all those people. I swear I didn’t.”
An inhale—a rustle of movement.
Balthazar’s voice boomed in my ears. “Yes! Tell me!”
The dam inside me crumbled. The poison had control now.
“I’m a monster,” I choked out. “A dark monster who enjoys killing. I tried to destroy my brother. I tried to kill his wife.”
I trembled, my body racked with sobs, my sins spilling forth like a confession at the gallows. “I lost the first love of my life. I lost my child. I don’t want to lose Emily. I don’t want to lose our child.”
A silence—thick, expectant.
Triumphant, Balthazar pressed.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Tell me everything, my son.”
He spoke to me like a father, a priest, someone I could trust with my secrets.
“I want to be a father so badly,” I confessed. “Not a father with dark ways. But the darkness—” I shuddered. “I crave it with every fiber of my soul. And yet... a part of me wants to be good. Emily makes me better.”
Poisoned as I was, I couldn’t separate fact from fiction. Shadows twisted into figures. Light warped and flickered. The things before my eyes—were they real? Or were they just figments of my broken mind?
Balthazar’s voice slithered through my ears, soft, insidious. “Now you’re going to tell me where Emily is. And where’s my dagger?”
My lips parted, treacherous. “She’s with Count Montego.”
Silence.
Then—“Who the hell is Count Montego?” Balthazar hissed.
I struggled to connect the dots. “He’s a count, a nobleman. He traveled with us… let us stay with him,” I mumbled.
“Where does he live?”
Costa’s voice cut in from the darkness. “What did he say?”
Balthazar’s voice grew louder, triumphant. “He says she’s with Count Montego.”
Costa scoffed. “Oh. Just an old man. We can easily overpower him.”
“I just want to be happy,” I whispered, my chest shaking with quiet, broken sobs. “Is that too much to ask?”
Costa’s response was cold. “How about you bleed him out? He’ll start talking then.”
Balthazar tightened his grip on my arm. The blade sliced—my skin split. Blood seeped.
“He’ll be drained soon enough,” he murmured.
Pain blurred the world. “I’d rather die than tell you anything more.”
“Don’t you want to see your child? Be a father?” Balthazar’s tone turned coaxing. “We could be allies again.”
I laughed—ragged, bitter. “No. All you do is lie. You don’t have your dagger. We will win. We’re ahead of the game. You’re angry because you’re losing.”
Where had this defiance come from? Some last shred of resistance flickering in the darkness?
Costa grabbed me by the collar, yanking me forward until his face was inches from mine.
His breath was hot. “I’ve seen a lot of time travelers.
But you—” he searched my face, eyes narrowing.
“You’re different, Marcellious. Join us.
We’re stronger together. Tell us where the caves are, and we’ll work with you. ”
His face swam in my vision, shifting in and out of focus. The world tilted, spinning.
“You can kill me,” I rasped. “You can destroy me. But Emily, Olivia, and Malik will ruin you. We have the stronger team.”
Costa snarled and shoved me backward. My skull cracked against the stone wall. Pain detonated through my skull, blurring my vision in a haze of white-hot agony.
“I’m going to check on Reyna, our other prisoner,” Costa muttered. The heavy door groaned open, then slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone with Balthazar.
I was too high to be afraid.
Balthazar exhaled, his voice dropping into a low, soothing tone. “I’m losing my patience. Tell me where Emily is. I want to know her. And who is Count Montego?”
My hallucinating mind betrayed me.
I coughed up the address.
Balthazar practically purred with satisfaction. “I knew, in the end, you’d come through for me. You’re a good son, Marcellious.”
He strode toward the door, slipping into the shadows.
“Where are you going?” I rasped, panic clawing up my throat. “Don’t leave me alone.”
He didn’t even turn back. “What does it matter? I’m done with you.”
The door slammed shut.
The cell swallowed me whole.
I beat my head against the granite, fighting the spiraling madness. I let the belladonna consume me.
And now, my beloved Emily—and my child—would soon be dead.