Chapter 11
The entire night passed in the same manner—Solveig winning her fight against the sleep that tried to seduce her. Maybe it was foolish since the male at the entrance didn’t move a single muscle.
She could’ve used the rest, but it was too late now. The sun was rising, bringing with it approaching voices. The male stood abruptly and was out of her sight. This was the first time she’d spent a night with a male who left so quickly.
Two figures came through the opening of the cave.
She couldn’t recognize her guard from last night.
One of them could be him. He was tall and muscular, but was he the same height or a bit shorter?
She couldn’t tell—she needed more time to study them.
If she was forced to guess, she would say this was a different male from her guard last night.
The second male was shorter and thickly built, and she recognized him as the male she’d choked with her chains. Pity he didn’t die.
As they came closer, the energy under her skin started to thrum. Still not used to its presence, it was an effort not to flinch at the sharp stinging moving through her veins. She desperately wanted to use it—to feel her power again.
But it stayed within her no matter how hard she fought to wield it.
The shorter of the males stood a few feet back, and the other came and knelt where the female had yesterday. Just out of reach. He spoke with that same overly gruff voice as the others.
“I hope you’ll be more cooperative now that you’ve had some time to think. We are looking for information about the leader of the Vanir encampment that has been organizing raids on the mortal villages.”
Solveig kept her face neutral.
Pride swelled in her chest as she thought about the one hundred soldiers captured before her. If that’s what these Fae were after, they must not have revealed any information about her.
She silently prayed to her fallen soldiers, thanking them for their loyalty, hoping her words reached them in Valhalla. They did not break and neither would she. Her resolve to remain silent fortified.
She was a wall made of Uru infused with Dwarven magic—impenetrable. Indestructible.
Solveig stared back at the male. He wore black from head to toe just like the others. Though she could not see his face, she glared at him anyway, hoping he would see the determination in her eyes. There was no point in delaying the inevitable.
“So brave. So foolish.” He got up and stood beside his shorter companion, leaning over to whisper in his ear.
The other male came forward, his movements predatory.
This one would delight in trying to break her.
She didn’t give him the honour of acknowledging him.
Lying supine on the ground with all the dignity she could muster, she stared at the ceiling, refusing to flinch.
“Tsk, tsk,” this second male muttered. “I’m looking forward to learning your body, witch. If only I could decide where to start.”
He circled her slowly, exactly like a predator with a cornered prey. She wanted to tell him to stop playing with his food, but she had taken a vow of silence.
Goddess save me. I may just perish without the use of sarcasm.
In any other circumstance, Latham would get a kick out of her refusal to speak. Thoughts of Latham swirled through her mind. She just had to hold on for him and Gerrie. She trusted them to find her when no one else could.
“I think we should make our first time together special.” He knelt near the top of her head. “Not to brag, but no one ever forgets their first time with me.” A gloved finger ran down the side of her face.
Likely because it was so disappointing.
She couldn’t say it out loud, so she settled for spitting in his face instead. His demeanour changed instantly and he gripped her throat tightly.
“You bitch!” He leaned forward, his rancid breath coating her face. “I’ll have you screaming so loud you won’t remember your own name.”
Pity, since that’s exactly the information you want.
She took a deep breath as he stood. Before she could react, his boot came down, smashing into her face. Her nose cracked under the impact, blood pouring before the pain even registered. Tears stung her eyes, but she did not make a sound.
One, two, three.
Her focus remained on the pain of magic buzzing wildly under her skin as she heard the distinct sound of a dagger being drawn from its sheath. She thrashed against her restraints. That was her dagger. He smirked at the fury in her eyes.
“Such a beautiful blade. You’ve taken great care of it for me—let’s see how well it cuts your flesh.
” She yanked at her short chains. It was a useless action, but she was unable to do nothing.
He smiled, the tip of the dagger piercing the skin above her temple as he dragged the point down her face, following the path he had charted with his finger.
Blood ran into her ear. The cut was deep, and the blade scraped against bone, slicing clean through her cheek. She breathed through the pain. He certainly wanted to start strong.
With a satisfied groan, he finished carving her face. “Well, I’m a little disappointed. This only makes you more irresistible,” he whispered.
Even without seeing his face, she could tell he was beaming. He was definitely the kind of male to get off on torture. Her resolve held strong, but she wouldn’t be able to hold this level of silence indefinitely.
“Enough with the foreplay. Let me show you, witch, what real strength looks like,” he spat.
Solveig closed her eyes and let the sting of her magic hold her still. She breathed through every kick to her abdomen. Stayed silent as he shattered her kneecaps. Tears rolled freely down her face, lips pressed together, teeth clenching so hard they might shatter, silently taking each blow.
Time was lost to her, but an eternity later, when he finally finished, she watched him walk away through blurry eyes, his chest heaving from the exertion. He paused at the front of the cave, turning to face her.
“See you tomorrow, puppet.”