CHAPTER XVI #5
I reach a hand for the back of his neck and stand next to him, leaning down slowly to place my lips on his in a soft whisper.
“I don’t like you much right now.”
“No,” he presses his lips into mine, hands darting quickly to my waist, “but you will soon enough.”
I roll my eyes with a small laugh and let him pull my body into his lap.
Keane moves his chair forward as I situate myself comfortably against his chest, one of his arms moving around my shoulders to grab his oak pen while the other places a hand between the inside of my thighs.
I sigh in his hold, wiggling again in his lap before I close my eyes.
Keane brings his oak slab and pen closer to him, lips falling on my temple as he leans into the table to resume his messages.
His hand on my thighs dips inward, fingers moving over my skin in a relaxing calm intended to bring me to sleep.
We stay together like this for a long time, with Keane engrossed in his messages as I try my best to feign sleep. At times I’ll hear him sigh, dealing with more unknown problems as his hand caresses my thigh.
It’s late into the night when Keane finally puts down his pen, sitting back in his chair as his muscular arms wrap strong around my whole body.
He leans down again to press his lips against the top of my hair, taking a heavy breath.
He holds me to him without getting up, the two of us sitting like this for another long while.
Does he always do this before he brings me to bed? Because if so, it pulls at my heart. It’s intimate, and purely for him.
“I know you’re awake, trouble.”
I shoot up quickly in his hold, heart beating so fast that I’m surprised to find his amused brown gaze latching onto mine.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he half smiles, eyes alight.
I shake my head slowly and feel his hand run up the side of my leg towards my rear.
“Get dressed,” he replies, squeezing my ass, “something warm.”
I jump out of his lap, blanket falling to the floor without another look. Keane slaps my ass in my run, chuckling softly as I make my way back to my packs and hurriedly begin to change.
“This isn’t like the others, Alexis…” he stands up slowly, brown eyes watching me as I get ready.
I turn to Keane and look him in the eyes with a hard nod. “I know.”
I pull up my boots and secure my blades under the leather before pulling out my thick emerald velvet cloak. Keane takes a few steps in my direction, his face serious and cool, all of his features hardened along with his narrowed eyes.
Come on, Storm, I lift up a hand.
The Bird of Ash flies to my wrist at the same time Keane walks in front of me, his broad shoulders commanding as my heart gives another quick flutter. I place Stormfall on my shoulder just as he reaches for my free hand, wrapping his fingers tight in mine to walk us to the door.
Dear Ancients, I need to start preparing myself for the worst.
We walk quietly down the staircase with Keane gripping my hand in strong comfort.
The castle is completely asleep as we move through the halls, the only sounds gracing the entirety of it being our footsteps that fall on the cool marble.
Keane leads us down another set of stairs, away from the door I know Bryson now stands guard over.
My head turns in confusion, walking with Keane lower until we reach the ground floor.
Keane walks us to the far end of the entry of the castle, his hand falling on a pocket door that rests casually in the wall. The wood looks ordinary and isn’t guarded by anyone out front, but it does open to something secret, a steep and dark staircase that juts below the castle.
Keane grabs a lantern resting on the wall within and steps inside, the silver light barely illuminating the steps below.
Everything is eerily quiet and cold, a chill breeze washing over the two of us as a separate dampness permeates the air.
I follow quietly behind his lead and descend down the stairs, our steps echoing off the dark walls as a new nervousness creeps into me.
We finally reach the last step as I peer around his shoulder, eyes narrowing in the dark at what I think is a long tunnel that extends farther down.
Keane keeps his hand tight around mine and moves purposely through the darkness.
“It’s me, Nathaniel,” he says quietly when we reach the end.
I can hear the Discerni soldier shifting on his feet but can’t make out his body.
“He was sleeping for a while,” the Warrior tells Keane, “but he’s awake now.”
My heart is beating wildly against my chest, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness as we move into a small opening within the tunnel that hosts three separate wrought-iron doors. Nathaniel’s eyes find mine, his face remaining impassive and unsurprised at my arrival.
“We’ll need some privacy,” Keane tells him. “I’ll find you when we’re done here.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” the soldier bows, hand extending to Keane with a large metal key. His eyes lift to mine with just a hint of hidden curiosity before he walks away.
“Lady.”
A cool chuckle follows behind the soldier, the sound making its way from the other side of the middle door and sending a chill down my spine. I tense at Keane’s side just as Starc gives a greeting of his own, his voice laced in quiet laughter.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to bring her to me.”
Kean moves strong in front of the iron, hand still holding mine as the other lifts the lantern of bottled moonslight to a hook in the wall.
He moves to the lock and then turns to me quietly, brown eyes finding mine in an intensity that consumes his whole body.
I squeeze his hand hard and take a deep breath, nodding in ready for whatever will greet us on the other side.
A full blast of cold air rushes past us from inside the dark room.
I can vaguely make out a figure in the middle, spotting Starc’s glowing blonde hair as his head lifts up.
His grey eyes catch the light from the bottled moonslight now held again by Keane, watching the two of us enter the room with a sadistic grin on his lips.
I hold back the heavy gasp that grips my chest once the full of the small prison becomes alight, my eyes narrowing on the harrowed sight of the Woodlands Discerni before me.
Starc is on his knees wearing nothing but the riding pants that he wore on that fiery night.
His full chest is raked with deep slashes moving from every which angle, some with fresh and newly dried blood while the others are beginning to heal, forming thick pink scars.
He’s missing an ear, his pale hair soaked in deep red at one side and dripping down his neck, and the full of him is covered in so much grime and cold dirt that it makes his light skin meld well with the dark room around him.
Everything about him is dirty, disgusting, and there’s a stench that consumes the air with each step closer I take to him.
But the most harrowing sight of all are of the chains coming out of the floor.
They’re meant to capture the man’s wrists at both sides, but instead of any palms or fingers that should grace the ends, there’s just a nub where two hands should be.
Both have been severed off completely so that the bindings rest tight around his forearms.
“You don’t even flinch,” his grey eyes meet mine before I take a slow step around his side.
Starc turns away from me, smirking at Keane as I take in his back.
“You didn’t tell me she was one of your brother’s…”
His brother’s?
I slowly peel my eyes off the heavy burn marks that grace every inch of his skin and look back at Keane.
He thinks you work for the Master Informer, Stormfall tells me silently from my shoulder.
Do I go with it? I ask the Bird of Ash, my glance asking the same question of Keane.
Follow the King’s lead, Alexis, Storm replies in his deep voice. Anyone that can sustain these injuries and still smile is a dangerous man.
I nod quietly and continue to move slowly around Starc, eyes darting back down to the thick welts that cover his skin from the burns.
Every part of his back is flayed and blistered, puss oozing out in a thick light green.
The sight is disturbing, as is the ankle twisted below him at an unnatural angle.
How he’s able to rest on his knees and remain awake right now is beyond me.
I feel the pain of his body just by looking at him.
Ancients, who is this man?
“Lady Alexis has seen her fair share of interrogations,” Keane replies coolly, leaning down to place the lantern on the cold floor.
“Indeed?” Starc turns to me as I walk around his other side, grey eyes alight in amusement. “A rare quality in a woman, one who can look upon pain.”
He chuckles, a low laugh the reaches deep in his chest.
“Though I know you’ve doled out your own fair share of pain as well, Lady,” he catches my gaze as I move to stand next Keane.
“I heard of what you did to Esme and saw the look in your eyes when you summoned the air out of my men. Dare I say you enjoyed it?” he gives me an evil smirk.
“Perhaps even enjoy receiving a little bit in return?”
The floor below the Discerni vibrates so quickly that neither of us can react. Within a single breath a long and sharp shard of stone has moved just under his chin, the point piercing his skin as it drips with blood.
“I know, I know,” Starc sighs, eyes narrowing back on Keane in exasperation, “play nice.”
My hand reaches for Keane’s at my side, pushing it down just slightly before I smile coldly to the man.
“I do enjoy a bit of pain,” I nod, “though that enjoyment becomes tenfold knowing that it’s against those who deserve it.”
“Then I’m surprised you didn’t come here earlier, Lady,” he smiles sweetly, “you would have enjoyed my screams.”
There’s only one thing I know of Starc in this moment…
The man is a sadist. And he’s enjoying this.
“How fares my brother?” Starc turns his amused gaze back on Keane.