Chapter 22 #2
When he spits at my feet like the idea of Sage makes his stomach turn, I yank against my chains and head butt him. The satisfaction of watching blood erupt from his otherwise perfectly straight nose is almost enough to give me the will to live. Almost, but not quite.
“She was a witch, you incognizant piece of shit. How’s that for elf speak?” It’s my turn to spit, except his pretty cream colored robe gets a big splash from my bloody mouth.
“Lies.”
“No. She was just over two months away from her thirtieth birthday and your elf took that away from her.” The liege is visibly shaken, his eyes wide as he takes a step back with his hand over his nose. A lackey is quick to give him a handkerchief but within seconds, he’s already healed up.
“I see.” The disappointment I feel when he walks away, putting the moonblade back on the makeshift wooden table, has me screaming at him.
“Where the fuck are you going? Is that all you’ve got? A few lashes and a slice of the moonblade? Fucking pathetic.” The more I talk, the harder it is to understand myself, which means they’re getting even less of my tirade.
Just when I think I’m going to be left alone with my thoughts, Desdemon’s right hand vamp walks in. Contrary to the elves, he doesn’t have a weapon since his nails and teeth are all the tools he needs to make me suffer.
“Oh, good. I thought the fun was over.” I’m bleeding profusely from my abdomen and if no one stops it, I’ll definitely be giving my soul to the Keepers. I wonder what Dei Samhain’s take is in all this.
“Dei Desdemon is royally pissed off, you get that, right?” Liege Thane walks around like he’s taking a stroll in the park and this isn’t a date with torture.
“Yep.” I spit again because my mouth is full of blood. The wound in my midsection is slowly bleeding out and I can feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness.
“Care to explain?”
“Kinda dying over here.” As my knees weaken from the lack of sustenance, I rely on the hold of the chains to keep me from falling. “But you know damn well that if someone had killed your fated mate, you would have burned the entirety of The Shade.”
It’s getting harder and harder to speak and my eyes need longer to rest every time I blink.
“You’re not wrong. Unfortunately for you, I don’t have a mate so I can’t relate.” Great, now this motherfucker is rhyming. “So I must do what is expected of me, Hack. You get that, right?”
“Yep. Have at it.” The pain is immediate and I pass out as soon as he plants his elongated nails into the side of my neck. Too weak to stay awake, I succumb to the stress on my body.
I don’t know when I wake up, minutes or hours or, fuck, it could even be days. There’s no way for me to know, which is a torture tactic in and of itself.
When I come to, someone has sewn up my moonblade wound and I can’t help the anger that bubbles up and erupts, even though I’m fully aware that dying isn’t in Dei Samhain’s best interest. The game isn’t to kill me, it’s to make me regret my actions. I just can’t find the will to give a shit.
When I look down at my body, I find I’m caked in blood with healed up scratches and bites from Thane. Those will disappear as soon as I get my strength back, but it’s anyone’s guess how long that will be.
“Ah, you’re awake.” My arms are sore from being forced to hold my weight but the presence of Dei Samhain piques my interest.
“Unfortunately.”
“Hmmm. Quite the shitshow you’ve got us in.” Running a finger over the wooden table like he’s checking for dust—which, to be fair, is abundant—he brings his hand to his mouth and blows on it, sending dust particles everywhere.
“She was my mate, Dei.” Just saying the words feels like razor blades across my larynx.
“I heard. I mean, you should be used to it by now.” Unlike the others who discredited the importance of Sage in my life, I know Samhain, and he doesn’t have an empathetic bone in his body. He’s just stating facts.
“Yeah, probably.” Fuck, it hurts. The realization—or more like the renewed realization—that she’s gone turns my stomach and this time nothing stops me from throwing up at my feet.
At least it’ll hide the smell of my own piss.
“We’re holding a trial and it’s not looking good for you. The last count you killed three and maimed five or six, can’t remember the details.” I nod at this information, even though it’s nothing surprising. It’s a crime to kill kyn in The Shade without it being self defense.
“Tell them to kill me.”
Samhain chuckles, the sound almost foreign coming from him.
Most things bore him and nothing amuses him.
“Not on my watch, Hack. I’m not training another horseman.
It’ll take centuries and I have better shit to do than waste my time.
” Standing in front of me, he assesses my condition then sniffs once.
“Even for a demon, your stench is nauseating.”
Without looking back, he walks out of the cell, the heavy wooden door closing with a clank followed by the sound of old keys turning and locking.
Fucking finally, I’m alone with my thoughts.
My memories.
My chosen.