Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
KADEN
“Pitiful,” came Fleshtalker’s oily voice.
Slowly, reluctantly, I peeled my eyelids open. The stone walls of the chamber loomed around me, and I silently cursed him for waking me.
I’d been dreaming of Lyra. The real Lyra. A dangerous indulgence, to be sure, but it was the only thing that made the pain bearable.
The stab wound in my gut ached ferociously, though I knew it had begun to heal. Slowly. Brownish blood oozed from the hole in my flesh. I burned with fever, and my filthy shirt was soaked with sweat.
Judging by the throbbing pain in my wrists, I was still chained to the wall with those infernal spiked manacles. My shoulders ached, as did my bruised jaw, but even the pain could not keep me anchored in reality.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, and even when I was awake, I wasn’t completely lucid. My delirium brought both joy and suffering. Joy whenever I was with her. Suffering when my torturer invaded my fever dreams disguised as my mate.
It was getting difficult to tell the difference, with my mind as muddled as it was. Fleshtalker had ripped apart my memories of Lyra, twisting them for his own sick amusement so that I’d let my guard down and allow him to invade my thoughts.
It was rare that I dreamt about anything pleasant, but the real Lyra had a few subtle tells. The sly curve of her mouth. An irreverent eye roll. Occasionally, the Lyra in my dreams would put a dagger to my throat, and I’d know it was my huntress.
“Your little whore has ruined you,” Fleshtalker drawled from somewhere nearby. “She must be quite an enticing receptacle for your cock if you would endure all this for her.”
Rage, hot and grounding, surged within me. My fury at least told me this was real.
“I would have thought you were beyond such mortal temptations, but clearly I was wrong.” Though the chamber was too dim to make out his expression, I could practically hear his smirk. “It must be your whore mother’s dark fae blood.”
“Insulting my mother, are you, Amalgamott?” I rasped. “How original.”
Fleshtalker’s nostrils flared at my use of his true name. “No matter. Velisara will surely have more . . . creative methods to entice you.”
A jolt of horrible familiarity clanged through me, but my thoughts were too muddy to recall where I’d heard that name before.
Right on cue, the door to my torture chamber creaked opened. Torchlight from the corridor spilled into the room, illuminating a tall, lithe figure silhouetted in the doorway.
It took my eyes a few moments to adjust, but when they did, I felt the burn of acid in my throat.
Velisara was a raven-haired female with a long face, huge eyes, and sensuous pink lips. Gossamer black fabric clung to her form, revealing every dip and curve. She was temptation made flesh, and yet everything inside me recoiled at the sight.
I’d heard of Velisara, though I’d never had the misfortune of experiencing her particular talent.
“My prince,” the female simpered. “What an honor it is to bask in your presence.”
“I doubt that,” I ground out, wincing as I tested the spiked manacles digging into my flesh.
Velisara took another step, and an off-putting clicking sound reached my ears. I glanced down at her hands, which were tipped with silver talons, the sharp points ticking together in an eerie, rhythmic fashion.
“Shall we begin?”
“Yes,” drawled Fleshtalker. “The Dark King is anxious to open the bond.”
The female cocked her head to one side, examining me as if I were a rare specimen she’d never seen before. “You have a gift for shielding, I’m told. A useful ability for one with secrets.” Her black eyes gleamed as she looked me over. “But I have a gift of my own.”
At those words, an icy terror flooded my veins.
My father and I were connected through a sire bond that allowed him to access my thoughts and speak directly into my mind.
Over the centuries, I’d learned to block him out — to hide my disloyalty and my connection to Lyra.
But Velisara had a unique ability that made her a prize in my father’s court. She could manipulate mental bonds.
“Hmm,” she murmured, reaching out and drawing a single silver talon along the edge of my jaw. My stomach clenched at the sensation, and I recoiled from her touch. But with my wrists bound by those spiked manacles, there was nowhere for me to go.
“Pretty little prince, you are.” Her voice was girlish and teasing in a way that made my skin crawl. And then, without warning, she lashed out with her talons and raked them down my exposed chest.
White-hot agony erupted down my front as she dug them into my skin. I cried out in surprise. Her talons felt like searing needles cauterizing my tender flesh.
But it wasn’t the sting of the wounds themselves that had black spots dancing in my vision. A dark, sludgy magic seeped into my cuts, spilling into my veins. It burned as it roved through my body, setting every nerve ending aflame.
Bright silver light flashed in my periphery, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I fought back a scream. I could feel that sinister power writhing beneath my skin. Crawling. Tasting. Feeling for that invisible bond I’d tried to suffocate with pure force of will.
“My, my,” Velisara tutted, tapping her jaw with one silvery claw, which was stained with my blood. “You’ve kept it buried deep. What are you hiding, baby prince?”
Sweat beaded along my temples as her magic burrowed deeper, gnawing through every part of me to unearth the ugly, twisted thing I’d tried to strangle.
Then Velisara gave a sharp tug, and I couldn’t quite stifle my moan of pain.
She pulled again, and that dark thread within me began to surface like a seedling being uprooted. It slithered along the marrow of my soul, making me shudder as my essence recoiled from the darkness.
The connection was faint, but it was there. The bond I’d tried for years to sever. The part of me that was him.
Triumph flashed in Velisara’s expression, and I couldn’t stop my howl of agony as she dragged the pulsing thread to the surface. She tilted her head, closing her eyes, and I screamed as she cracked the bond open.
A wave of hatred like I’d never known unfurled inside me. Greed and hunger surged forth, suffocating me from the inside out.
Life held no meaning. There was only that unending want. An insatiable thirst for more.
I’d known my father was despicable, but something within me hadn’t understood. There was no end to his lust for power — no limit to his greed. It poured into me like a poison, infecting every crevice of my soul.
It was him, but it was also me, and a horrible thought clanged through me.
He was inside of me — had always been a part of me. And no matter how hard I fought this connection, the two of us were inextricably linked.
At first, I thought Velisara was done. That she’d blown our connection wide open. But the wicked female was still tinkering within me, still pulling and tugging on my essence.
I was so lost in him that I almost didn’t notice. Didn’t notice that, while I could feel him, he couldn’t feel me.
Then Velisara gave another hard yank, and something within me fractured with a sound like a branch snapping.
Pain like I’d never experienced seared my muscles, and I heard my shoulders pop as I thrashed against my manacles. I fought and fought, but there was no stopping the surge of thoughts and memories flowing down our bond.
The bond that was now wide open.
My howl of defeat echoed through the chamber. Then everything went dark.