11. Chapter 11
Arwen
The clang of metal jerks me back to consciousness on the table.
A harsh white glare of fluorescents fills my vision while the scientists move around me in a blur, with the quiet efficiency of people performing a routine procedure. They’re still calling it “test” but I stopped pretending a long time ago.
This is nothing but pure torture.
Wires trail across my skin, adhesive pads tugging against bruises and half-healed cuts as they connect the machines that hum beside the table. The restraints around my wrists digging into skin that had only barely finished knitting itself together hours earlier.
“Let’s try again,” someone says in a monotone, clinical tone.
I close my eyes and try to find it.
Somewhere inside me… buried beneath the exhaustion and pain—there should be something violent and powerful waiting to break free. I felt it before. That surge of lightning beneath my ribs, the impossible force that ripped through the room the first time they pushed me far enough.
I reach for it the way someone drowning reaches for air.
All I find is a faint, useless flicker.
A weak pulse that sputters and disappears before it can become anything real. Surely using your sin power isn’t this hard. There must be something wrong with me.
The monitor beside me emits a flat, unimpressed sound.
“That’s it?” one of them mutters.
Before I can respond, the voltage rises, and electricity tears through my body.
My back arches off the table, muscles seizing as the shock rips down my spine and into every nerve. The pain is bright and consuming, exploding behind my eyes. The metallic taste of blood hits my tongue when my teeth slam together.
When it stops, I collapse back against the metal, breath tearing through my lungs.
Nothing…
“Please,” I beg in a whisper. I hate these humiliating moments when I break.
The machines remain silent.
“No reaction,” Dr. Plinth says, disappointment and frustration creeping into his voice.
They continued the fear tactic after it worked the first time. Continued threats whispered inches from my ear about what they might do to Sadie if I didn’t cooperate.
They kept trying to recreate it.
Again.
And again.
And again.
But fear doesn’t burn the same way forever. Eventually, even terror begins to dull when it’s stretched thin enough.
That’s when they reverted to physical harm.
Combining electric shocks. Burns. Suffocation masks held over my face until my lungs claw in my chest. Branding irons heated until the metal glows and pressed into skin they know will heal.
Unfortunately, my newfound ability with the sloth relic hidden in my cell inspired them to get creative with their torture.
The first time my body repaired itself overnight, they assumed my powers had somehow contributed to healing the damage.
They thought if they pushed me far enough that my powers would jump in and save its host.
That theory lasted until the day they left me in isolation after a particularly enthusiastic round of testing. When they returned the next morning, they expected to find me completely healed and breathing.
Instead, they found me on the brink of death. Almost a corpse.
Their new theory is that my bond with Atticus is repairing the damage.
I’ve done nothing to correct them. If they believe he’s the reason that I can handle this torment and heal myself right back up, they’ll consider him worth preserving.
I only touch the relic when no one can see. Although it heals my body, my mind remembers. I can’t admit to Atticus that this is slowly breaking me.
Another shock runs through me, smaller this time but still enough to send pain shooting through my nerves, which never fully recovers between sessions. The room smells of antiseptic and burned skin. My skin.
The machines fall silent again.
“Still nothing,” someone sighs.
My arms feel too heavy to lift, my lungs still scraping with every breath. The room blurs at the edges, the pain settling into something dull. Somewhere in that haze, a nasty thought slips in… I’m worthless.
I thought I had buried this version of myself.
I stood before the Council at the academy and refused their verdict. My friends had spent a year teaching me to see past “sinless” and “useless.” I made them look at me, and for once, I believed I was more.
But this place…
This room has a way of peeling that certainty back, layer by layer.
The thought surfaces before I can stop it… I wish I were still invisible.
I hear the familiar beep of the electronic security door, and soft footsteps echo across the room.
“Ah,” Dr. Plinth says with sudden interest. “I wondered when we’d be getting a visit from you.”
I barely notice until a familiar voice drifts across the room.
“Well…” Ryker Blaise says, “this room is a lot bleaker than the rest of the tower.”
My eyes snap open as his voice breaks me out of a mental spiral.
“You’d think with our resources we could afford some less… clinical décor.” His mocking tone, thick with confidence, dredges up all the memories from the last year, putting my body on full alert. ‘Danger!’ It screams.
He finally walks into my field of vision as he speaks with Dr. Plinth. Not a single piece of his short blonde hair out of place. Expensive clothes that look like he walked straight out of one of his parties and into this sterile room.
Standing like the doesn’t have a care in the world.
Standing there while I’m strapped to a metal table covered in blood and burns.
Rage surges through me before I can stop it.
My wrists yank violently against the restraints, the leather biting into skin that was already torn open more times than I can count. It draws his attention, and his dark green eyes finally land on me.
The scientists laugh as Ryker’s eyes go surprised with rage, before he masks it.
“Well now,” one of them says. “That’s the biggest reaction we’ve gotten from her in days.”
“Is this one of your academy conquests?” One of the younger scientists punches him on the shoulder as he walks by.
Ryker’s expression remains relaxed, but something flickers briefly in his eyes when he looks at me.
“You piece of shit,” I rasp.
My throat burns with every word.
Of course, it wasn’t enough to pretend to have feelings for me to keep me closer to his father. He was in on this betrayal as well.
He doesn’t answer, just stands there. Staring over his project.
The same scientists lift a metal rod from the tray beside the table. The tip glows a deep orange, heat rippling in the air above it.
“Since you’re here,” the man says, “would you like the honor?”
Ryker glances toward him.
“The honor?”
“Branding her with your family crest.” The scientist gestures toward the iron like he’s offering a drink. “A symbolic gesture. For your visit.”
For a moment, Ryker stares at it, processing.
Then he laughs. “I think I’ll pass. I’m not a farmhand.”
The scientist shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
The iron presses into my skin before I can brace myself.
Pain detonates across my side as the metal sinks into flesh, the smell of burning skin filling the room. My scream tears free before I can stop it, my body thrashing against the restraints as fire spreads outward from the brand.
Through the blur of pain, I see Ryker flinch.
“Stop!” He yells, surprising everyone.
“You don’t want to break my father’s newest project,” He chides.
The scientists wander toward a nearby counter to document their observations, arguing about nerve sensitivity and emotional agitation.
Ryker moves the moment their backs turn.
He drops beside the table, close enough that I can see the strain in his expression.
“I swear I didn’t know,” he says quickly, the words tumbling out. “Fuck, Arwen—I didn’t know about this. I didn’t know he had you here—”
A bitter sound escapes my throat. “Get. Out.” I manage the words raw in my voice.
I turn my head away from him.
After how hard he played to get me into his father’s clutches? There’s no way. This is just another performance.
I’m too exhausted to play along or curse him out.
Dr. Plinth returns a moment later, clipboard tucked beneath his arm.
“Ryker,” he says. “Glad you could join us.”
His gaze flicks over me like I’m a malfunctioning piece of equipment. “Unfortunately, today has been another failure. We’ll notify you and your father the moment her power emerges again.”
He gestures toward the guards waiting nearby as he leads Ryker away.
“For now, we’ll have Ms. Davies cleaned up and returned to her cell. Need to ensure the asset remains in working condition, as you so wisely suggested.”
Hands grab my arms as the restraints release. My body barely cooperates as they drag me upright.
For a moment, I feel close to breaking. To crying. To begging the scientists and Ryker to have mercy on me.
But as they pull me toward the door, my eyes flick once more toward Ryker.
Seeing him here—seeing the betrayal standing right in front of me—does something unexpected inside my chest.
The part of me that wanted to give up goes quiet.
If Ryker Blaise thinks he’s won and that he gets to watch me shatter after everything he did…
He’s out of his mind.
They drag me down the hall toward my cell, and somewhere beneath the pain and exhaustion, the fire burns again.
They will not get satisfaction.