Chapter 48
Rory’s wrists were shackled and chained to the wall above her head in the sky room, or at least it was equivalent to the sky room, but here in the Lux Palace it had no essence screens on the ceiling.
She’d recognize the room anywhere, but even if she didn’t, the way they arrived gave it away. The guards carried her through the secret passage near the gardens to Gedeon’s room and then through the other passage leading to here.
She had gawked at her surroundings when they entered. Instead of a standard guest room, it was a torture chamber, and she shuddered at the horrors he had done to others here.
Gedeon dismissed the guards, who disappeared through the room’s main entrance. She thought of the palace layout in her head, mapping an escape route, thankful that the palaces were the same.
Caius took up most of her thoughts. Would she know if he died? If visions alerted them to danger, surely something would alert them of the other’s death. It was the only thread of hope she had.
“Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” Gedeon asked her and spread his arms wide with a hideous smile on his face.
“How many innocents have you hurt here?” she sneered.
His laugh grated on her nerves as he stepped closer and leaned down. She kicked at his knee, but he grabbed her ankle. Blinding light darted from the essence sconces on the walls and shot into her leg. The leg of her pants melted away as her skin burned, and she screamed from the unbearable pain.
He tutted and released her ankle. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Rory swallowed her whimper and pulled her leg back. She was smart enough to know she was no match for him. The only way to kill him would be from the back. Decapitation was a safer bet because the possibility of missing his heart from behind was too great.
“I’d love to sit and chat with you, but I think we should get to the fun part.” He stood with a wink that made her skin crawl. “This is no supermystic movie where the villain gives a monologue to the hero about his hard life that led to his decisions.”
Clasping his hands behind his back, he stared at a wall of knives. “My story is simple. My brother stole what was mine. I am returning the favor. The end.”
This man was delusional. “Caius stole nothing from you. You stole your sister’s life and her throne.”
Gedeon looked unperturbed. “The Umbra throne should have been mine, but it went to him.” He selected what looked to be an ice pick, and fear trickled down Rory’s spine.
“And then he shied away from me, acting as if he was better than I was our entire lives.” Looking up, he shrugged. “And now I have his wife.”
Anger would be better than the eerie calm he possessed.
She wanted to keep him talking to delay whatever he was going to do with the weapon in his hand.
“I’m a Fey, and he inherited the ability to sense black souls without touching the mystic.
” She leaned forward with a taunting smile.
“He was so powerful, he could even see the black soul of a Royal, and guess whose little black soul suffocated him the most?”
Gedeon pressed the ice pick under her chin.
“Good. I hope he was tortured every night of our childhood when we slept in the same room.” The prick of the cold steel made her heart race, and he smiled, pulling it back.
“I wouldn’t want to harm that sharp little tongue of yours. How else will you scream for help?”
The ice pick came down on her unburnt leg, and a howl of pain tore from her throat. She yanked against the chains as Gedeon laughed and withdrew his sadistic toy from her leg. Blood gushed, soaking into her leggings.
“Seraphim,” she silently pleaded to the creators, begging them to hear her. “Stop him.”
The pain from the puncture wound slowly ebbed, as had the burns on her other leg, and Gedeon stood with a dramatic sigh. “No, not this one.”
He strolled to the bathroom, and she heard the ice pick clatter as he tossed it into something and returned to the wall of knives. Choosing a smaller knife, he poked the end of the blade with his finger, seemingly satisfied as he returned to her.
As he kneeled, she resisted the urge to kick him again.
Nothing she did would save her as long as he was here.
Without warning, he sliced small cuts all over her face, and she forced herself to stay still so as not to stab herself in the eye.
Salty tears mixed with the blood streaming down her face.
Shaking his head, he stood. “Not this one, either.”
And the torture went on as he grabbed different tools, slicing and scraping the exposed skin on her arms, face, neck, and hands. She sobbed, hating herself for how she begged him to stop. He would just laugh and pick something else to try.
Rory called out for Caius, begging him to save her. In her moments of clarity, she hoped he didn’t hear her because it would crush him, but in her delirious moments, she had no control of her mouth, her tears, her body, or her mind. All she knew was pain.
Gedeon particularly enjoyed stabbing her in the stomach. The first time, she screamed Caius’ name, and Gedeon was beside himself with joy.
“I hope he’s watching,” Gedeon purred, running a knife down Rory’s cheek. “Poor little brother, locked in Vincula with no way to get to you. Will he writhe on the ground as he experiences your pain and fear?”
“This is a great way to let off steam,” Gedeon had told her at one point. “Being king isn’t easy, and sometimes you get the urge to destroy something.” Twirling his hand in the air, he’d said, “This isn’t the same, but it takes the edge off.”
Rory’s vision had tunneled at his words. How many people did he torture over the last five-hundred years to curb his urges?
Thanks to her immortal healing, blood no longer poured from her body, but the sticky liquid coated everything. Her shirt was destroyed, as were the legs of her pants.
His eyes lit up as he stood. “I have just the thing for you.” After he walked away, she heard a door open, and the prospect of him leaving lit a fire under her. She had to get out.
“Don’t move,” he sang as the door closed.