Chapter 35
Talear
The Ebony Fortress
Wearing nothing but a flimsy white chemise that left nothing to the imagination, Kendra was forced down a circular stone staircase until they reached the darkened bowels of the fortress.
An unpleasant moldy odor greeted her senses as they entered the dungeon.
At the far end of the elongated room, lit only by dim flickering torchlight, sat a single wooden chair with leather straps and iron shackles.
This wasn’t a dungeon—it was a torture chamber.
Her breaths came in short, rapid bursts as her false bravado slipped away, replaced with intense fear.
A feeling of dread turned her stomach. Kendra thought she had mentally prepared herself.
That she would be strong enough to endure whatever torture Mordrick doled out, but the sight of that lone chair caused her fragile will to falter.
Her bare feet dug into the floor in a useless attempt to prevent the inevitable.
Guards propelled her towards the looming chair, their grip brutal and unforgiving. A wave of heat radiating from a tall barrel washed over her.
Despite her attempts to fight against them, the guards forced her into the diabolical torture device.
The rough metal bit into her wrists as heavy iron shackles secured her to the armrests.
The guards shuffled away as a towering man dressed in a grey uniform, adorned with a crimson mantle, entered the room with an arrogant stride.
He was tall and muscular, like Reyne, but that was where the similarity ended. This man’s dark hair was cropped short, and his clear-blue eyes pierced hers with a merciless gleam. A jagged scar crossed his cheek and upper lip.
Kendra had no doubt he enjoyed inflicting pain.
His expression was unreadable as he moved towards her. Without a word, he lifted the braid from her shoulder, draping it over the back of the chair.
“Do you have a name?” Kendra asked just to break the oppressive silence.
No response. His silver armband glinted in the torchlight. As he moved around, she caught a glimpse of the intricate design. The hawk was most definitely clutching an ax. This man was a skilled Ramachii interrogator. He must be Seth—the Ramachii interrogator Mordrick had sent for.
Swallowing the bile creeping up her throat, she squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep calming breaths.
Breathe Kendra, breathe.
Cool leather slid against her throat. He forced her head back with a yank so painful that tears sprang in her eyes. The strap tugged, securing her to the chairback. When she swallowed, she felt the suffocating pressure against her pulse point.
Seth moved from her to thrust a poker into the barrel, stoking the coals. Another wave of heat doused her. Perspiration broke out across her brow.
The door closed with a chilling click.
She was alone again, in Mordrick’s dank dungeon, shackled to a chair. Heat continued to engulf her in waves. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead, into her eyes. Her vision burned. Blurred.
Time seemed suspended. She had no idea how long she had been left there, in the stagnant heat. Ten minutes? An hour? A day? The waiting, combined with the fear of the unknown torment to come, was a mental torture of its own.
Seth returned several times to add more coal to the barrel, only to leave again without uttering a single word. At some point Kendra thought she passed out from heat exhaustion, only to jerk awake in a fit of terror.
The sound of voices startled her.
The door squeaked open on an unoiled hinge and Mordrick swept into the room, his long ebony mantle swirling around his boots as he halted before her.
He appraised her with an icy gaze that swept her from head to toe. His intense scrutiny made her feel vulnerable, exposed.
A twisted smile curled his lips. “Have you reconsidered my proposal?”
Kendra tilted her head to glare at him. “Go. To. Hell. I’ll never marry you.”
“So brave.” He shed his gloves and touched her cheek, her jawbone.
She jerked to escape the unwanted contact, but he gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
“Shall we see how long this display of bravery lasts before you bend, then break?” With a flick of his other hand, Seth strode forward holding a flat rectangular board with five metal loops.
Finger loops she realized in a fearful haze while he secured the board to the armrest, beneath her left hand.
Her heart thumped her ribs. “I won’t bend or break.”
“No?” Sadistic humor laced his laughter. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you to my will. By the time I’m done, you will kneel at my feet like a well-trained pet.”
“Don’t count on it.” She wanted to hurl spit in his face.
Mordrick chuckled in response to her venom and thrust her chin from his grip with a sudden force that made her neck snap. Good. She was glad to be free of his revolting touch.
An ominous look passed between Mordrick and his interrogator, sending a shiver down her spine.
Seth reached for her fingers, but Kendra balled her hand into a fist so tight, her nails dug painfully into her palm. There was no chance she would willingly allow her fingers into those five metal torture traps. No. Fucking. Way.
The glint of silver caught her eye. Seth twisted a steel dagger through his fingers with skillful ease and the cool edge of his blade touched her cheek with a loverlike caress.
Kendra held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.
Seth leaned down to whisper into her ear, his tone cold and chilling. “Don’t make this harder than it must be, Princess. Release your grip.” The sharp tip scraped down her jawbone, to her throat, and down to her collarbone with deliberate slowness.
So focused on the unwanted feel of steel against her skin, she failed to notice her grip had loosened just enough to allow his thumb to slide in.
One by one, he pried her fingers open, forcing them through the bent loops until all five were splayed wide, her clammy palm flush with the wooden plank. The biting leather collar tugged against her throat as she swallowed.
Despite her best effort, she was unable to prevent the tremors that raked her body.
Seth sheathed his blade in his boot and stirred the coals again, whipping up another wave of heat. He removed the glowing red-hot poker, inspecting it. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded to his master, then thrust the metal back into the fiery coals.
Mordrick crouched on his heels, so they were at eye level. His icy gaze—so like Reyne’s, met hers. “I’ll ask this one last time. Will you consent to be my wife, my queen?”
Despite the fear squeezing her ribcage, she gritted her teeth and met his stare straight on. “Fuck no. I’ll die first.”
Mordrick considered her for a long, tense minute, then he stood to his full imposing height. He pointed at the smallest finger on her left hand before moving aside to lean against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching. Waiting.
Seth took his cue. Before she could even tense her body in preparation, he positioned the sharp edge of his dagger above her outstretched digit.
In one swift thrust, he sliced off the tip of her pinky,
Kendra bit down on her tongue, refusing to scream. A faint metallic taste filled her mouth.
Tears slid down her cheeks as she forced herself to endure the overwhelming pain radiating from her fingertip. She clenched her molars, refusing to allow Mordrick the perverse satisfaction of hearing her scream in agony.
Breathe Kendra, breathe.
The room spun with swirls of darkness. Her head listed forward, but before she could pass out, Mordrick clutched her braid and yanked. “Can’t have you bleeding out, or fainting. Now, can we?”
Her unfocused gaze lifted just in time to see Seth pull the glowing red-hot poker from the barrel.
A moment later the burning tip seared the flesh of her missing fingertip. This time she was unable to prevent the anguished scream that pierced the air.
The stench of scorched flesh assaulted her nostrils.
A wave of nausea engulfed her. She gagged, choked.
Breathe Kendra, breathe.
When her breathing was somewhat under control, she panted. “You. Are. Sick. You can torture me all you want. I will not marry you. Ever.”
“My dearest Kendra, you have it all wrong.” Mordrick released his unrelenting grip on her braid. “I’m not planning to continue your torture. No. I just wanted you to experience the pain for yourself. This way, you will appreciate the feeling as you watch it happen to another.”
The door swung open. A chair landed in the room with a loud scraping thud, facing her.
She jumped, startled.
Realization dawned on her with a painful thump in her chest. They meant to torture someone else. What if it was Reyne? Mordrick wasn’t above torturing his nephew. She had witnessed his brutality towards Reyne for herself.
Her chest tightened and the first major crack in her resolve rippled through her.
Two guards dumped a limp body into the opposite chair.
Quinn.
She watched in horror as one guard tightened the leather around his neck, pulling his head against the chairback, while the other secured his wrists, forcing his fingers into similar metal loops.
Blood and bile mingled on her tongue.
Quinn’s face remained covered in uneven purple bruises, one eye still partially swollen, lip cut, but his face was no longer covered in dried blood.
Mordrick grabbed her chin again, forcing her to meet his icy gaze. “Say the words.”
The dagger still smeared with her blood hovered over Quinn’s outstretched pinky.
She was going to retch.
“Say the words," Mordrick repeated. "Say the words that will bind us, and I will end this.”
Quinn's one golden eye met hers. “Kendra, do not give in,” Quinn beseeched her. “No matter what they do to me. I can take it.”
“This display is touching. Truly.” Mordrick nodded and the tip of Quinn’s pinky rolled to the stone floor while blood spewed onto the wooden board.
Kendra screamed until her voice went hoarse.
Seth yanked the red-hot poker from the barrel again and seared Quinn’s pinky, permeating the air again with pungent burning flesh. Kendra gagged. “Quinn, I’m so sorry,” she rasped between ragged breaths. Her resolve was close to breaking. She couldn’t watch them torture Quinn.
Seth spun the blood-stained dagger through his fingers and then touched the tip to Quinn’s pinky again.
“Stop,” she cried out.
The blade halted, waiting for Mordrick’s signal.
“Say the words, Kendra.”
“Do. Not. Give. In,” Quinn begged her with a seriousness she had never heard from him. “I’m not worth it.”
“I can’t let you suffer.”
Mordrick nodded. Another knuckle rolled off the board and fell to the floor.
Kendra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the disturbing image of Quinn’s torture from her mind.
Mordrick yanked her braid again. “Open your eyes and watch, or I will allow him to bleed out.”
Despising her weakness, she looked first at Mordrick with seething contempt, and then at Quinn. Her truest friend. Her confidant. Their silent gazes met across the room.
The red-hot poker seared his flesh again. Quinn didn’t scream or make any noticeable sounds, but the agony etched on his bruised face was impossible to ignore.
Suddenly the walls closed in around her, and the air left her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, and a feeling of suffocation overwhelmed her.
She gasped for breath.
The room spiraled out of control.
A gentle touch caressed her cheek. “Breathe, Princess. This can all end right now,” Seth whispered softly into her ear. “All you need to do is consent.”
“No Kendra. Do not listen to him,” Quinn pleaded.
Her focus split between Quinn’s pleas and Seth’s soothing words.
“Focus on my voice.” Seth loosened the leather around her neck, only to replace the collar with his warm palm. “I only want to help you.”
She heard his silky words and knew them for a lie, but his gentle hold—which was a stark contrast to the biting leather, threw her mind into chaos. Quinn blurred as her vision doubled.
Seth spread his fingers and caressed her neck with light gentle strokes. “Do you consent?”
Yes. No. Yes. No.
Her resolve fractured in confusion.
“Consent. Or I will return my attention to your friend. Is that what you want?” Seth lightly rubbed his thumb before he tightened his hold with sudden force. “If I do, I promise he will lose more than a finger.”
“No,” she sputtered, gasping for air. “I consent.” She could not allow Quinn’s torture to continue. Not while she still had breath in her lungs.
Seth released his hold and moved away.
“Kendra, No!”
Her focus returned to Quinn. A guard prepared to strike him but halted when Mordrick lifted his palm. To Kendra he said. “Say it. I need to hear the words.”
“I’ll…”
“Say you consent to marry me,” Mordrick demanded.
Tears of defeat streamed down her cheeks and shame burned her eyes. “I consent to marry you.”
A satisfied smile twisted Mordrick’s lips. He gestured to Seth, then they both strode from the room without a backwards glance. A beat later, Kendra and Quinn were released from their restraints.
Quinn crumbled to the floor.
“Quinn, I’m so sorry.” Kendra dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around him. “This is my fault. If I hadn’t run to you and Garrett, Mordrick wouldn’t have known to use you against me. Reyne tried to warn me, but I didn’t listen.”
Wincing in pain, Quinn rolled to his back and stared up at her through his one good golden-brown eye. “Kendra, this isn’t your fault. Besides.” A weak smile touched his lips as he held up his mangled finger. “Pinky fingers are overrated. I mean, really. What are they good for?”
A humorless laugh escaped her as she wrapped her damaged pinky around his scorched stub. She stretched out next to him, hugging his waist and sobbed, her tears soaking his soiled uniform. They stayed there together, on the dungeon floor, until guards finally came to collect them.