Chapter 28 #2
Keres lunges forward, gripping my knees with rough hands and prying them apart as if my resistance is nothing more than an inconvenience.
I try to close my legs, to make myself smaller, but my body betrays me.
Between the blood loss and the relentless pull of the goiteía collar around my neck, I don’t even have the strength to keep him at bay.
His fingers trail over the jagged cuts on my thighs, making me hiss through my teeth as fresh waves of pain ripple through me.
He tuts softly, shaking his head like I’m a stubborn child he’s grown tired of scolding. His head tilts to the side, and a glint of something dark—something dangerous—flickers in his eyes as he takes in my battered state. The way he looks at me makes bile rise in my throat.
“You keep saying that,” Keres murmurs, his tone almost conversational. He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear. “Now, why don’t we skip the theatrics? Save yourself the trouble and tell me what I want to know. Where is he?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I snap, my voice raw. Only this time, it’s the truth. I have no idea who he is talking about.
His hand slams against the foot of the bed behind me, and I flinch. “Wrong answer,” he growls, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”
I swallow hard, refusing to let the fear in my chest show. “Believe whatever you want, but it won’t change anything.”
Keres sighs, his frustration evident. “I was hoping we could avoid this,” he says almost regretfully. “But maybe I’m not offering the right motivation.”
Before the full weight of his words can settle in my mind, his hands grip the backs of my thighs and yank me toward him.
The sudden movement knocks the air from my lungs as my back hits the cold marble floor.
My head spins from the impact, but I barely have time to suck in a breath before his hand clamps around my jaw and his lips crush against mine.
Keres grinds against me, his arousal pressing into my pubic bone with enough force to make my stomach churn.
I twist and struggle beneath him, disgust and fury warring for dominance in my gut.
But when his other hand slips beneath my torn dress and brushes against my core, something inside me snaps. Fury wins.
I bite down on his lip, hard enough that the taste of copper floods my mouth.
His blood coats my tongue, but I don’t stop until I feel him jerk back with a growl of pain.
He rears up, laughing as if this is all a joke.
His hand flies to his mouth, fingers coming away slick with blood.
For a moment, he just stares at it, tilting his head like he’s admiring the color.
Then, with deliberate slowness, he licks it clean, humming under his breath like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake here, do you?” Keres says, his voice low and dangerous. “That weapon could change everything. For Eretria. For the world. And you’re standing in my way.”
His words are laced with something I can’t quite place—desperation, perhaps?
It’s fleeting, gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, calculating mask he always wears.
When Keres leans forward again, his hand grips my jaw with bruising force, and he pulls a small vial from his pocket.
Before I can react, he tilts my head back and pours a thick, bittersweet liquid down my throat.
I thrash, gagging as I try to spit it out, but he clamps his hand over my mouth and nose, cutting off my air.
My lungs burn, and I have no choice but to swallow.
The second the liquid slides down my throat, he lets me go, and I collapse back onto the floor, coughing and gasping for air.
“A parting gift,” he says casually, standing over me with that same satisfied smile. “Only the sweetest nectar for you. I call it mad honey, but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to have heard of it. I made it myself. Perhaps it’ll loosen your tongue.”
I glare at him through the haze of pain and exhaustion, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response.
He watches me for a moment longer, his eyes gleaming with triumph, before he turns and strides toward the door.
He doesn’t look back, but I hold my breath until I hear his footsteps fade into the distance.
Only when I’m certain he’s gone do I let it out.
And then I scream.
The sound is raw and broken, ripped from the depths of my soul.
It echoes around the room, carrying with it all the fury, pain, and despair I’ve bottled up since this nightmare began.
When it finally dies out, the only sound left is the ragged sound of my breathing as I struggle to push myself upright.
My throat burns, either from the screaming, the liquid and its bitter aftertaste that lingers, or both.
A cold sweat breaks out across my skin, and my stomach churns.
I didn’t imagine anything could be worse than torture and interrogation.
But the silence is the worst part. It stretches endlessly, an oppressive void that gnaws at me harder than Jorah’s blade ever could.
Loneliness digs into my ribs, sharp and unrelenting, leaving nothing behind but hollow echoes.
Even the pain feels muted, empty, when there’s no one to share it with.
And there won’t be anyone to share it with.
They have their mission. Their purpose. Dragging a broken girl out of a cell was never part of the plan.
Because that’s all I am now.
Spy. Thief. Princess. Songbird.
None of them are real. None of them are whole.
And none of them can save me now. Maybe the answer is simpler.
Maybe, without a role to play, I’m no one at all.
That should feel freeing, like shedding a weight I’ve carried too long.
But instead, it hollows me out even more, leaving nothing behind but the ache.
I press a hand to my abdomen, trying to steady my breathing, but the room tilts dangerously.
My fingers tremble as I clutch at the bedframe, the edges of my vision darkening.
Keres’s voice echoes in my mind, his words slipping into the cracks like invisible chains tightening around me.
Cold helplessness creeps into my bones for the first time in years, and I hate myself for letting it. I hate him more for planting it there.
I look down at my bloodied thighs, the crimson streaks standing out stark against my skin.
I count the cuts one by one, as if tallying the cost of my defiance, each mark a testament to my refusal to bend.
The pain is sharp, but it’s nothing compared to the fury that begins to rise within me.
As I watch my blood seep from the wounds, it’s like watching my fear bleed out with it.
Each scarlet bead of blood isn’t just a loss; it’s a spark.
A spark that ignites something deep inside me.
I will not let this end me. I will not let him win.
I’m going to make Keres pay. For every cut, every bruise, every drop of blood he’s spilled. I’ll watch the light fade from his eyes, and I’ll savor every second.
The thought burns bright in my mind, a beacon of fury and resolve. But before I can hold on to it, my body betrays me. My muscles tremble, my vision blurs, and the edges of my world are consumed by shadows.
The convulsions begin, and I can do nothing but let the darkness take me.
“Quickly, El.”
The voice slams into my ears like shattered glass, jagged and wrong. I jolt upright, the room spinning, folding over itself, until my focus steadies on the young girl before me.
Golden skin, but slick and dripping, like molten wax sliding across bone. Her curls float, weightless in water I can’t see.
“Hali?” The name breaks apart in my throat.
“You were supposed to keep me safe.” Her lips move. Her voice is submerged.
“I—I tried!” My hands reach out, but something around my throat holds me back.
The face of the girl I’ve tried so hard to forget ripples and re-forms. Midnight curls fade to dark cinnamon, golden skin deepens.
“I have the weapon.” Nyssa’s voice is a frantic whisper. Her eyes dart around the shadowy room.
“Where is it?” my voice rasps, but it sounds wrong, foreign. It might not have even come from me.
Nyssa’s face looms. Not Nyssa. Her eyes sharpen to slits, her teeth bared. “It’s safe. You can’t let them know.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“No one can know, Aella.” Hali’s echoing voice returns, overlaying Nyssa’s snarl. “Not even you.”
Silver flashes before she lunges.
I scream.
And I bleed out on the floor.
Rough fingers trail up my inner thighs, pushing aside my underwear and drawing forth a soft moan from my lips.
Raven’s body presses into mine, and I grind my hips against his hardness.
I groan against his mouth, and he bites down hard on my lip, transforming it into a gasp.
The bitter taste of copper coats my tongue as he fills me with a long, hard thrust.
“You take me so well, Princess.” His husky voice fills my mind, body, and soul, driving me further toward the edge. “Are you going to come for me?”
“Yes.” My hands grip him, pulling him closer. His thrusts grow harder, faster, deeper; the pleasure building deep in my core.
“Oh gods,” I cry as the feeling crests. I close my eyes as stars begin to dance in my vision.
“Look at me.”
I open my eyes as the orgasm splinters through me. But Raven’s honey-brown irises flash red.
Horror fills me, and I scream, fracturing the image into shards of glass.
I turn my head to the side and vomit.
When I turn back, the room is empty.
I close my eyes again.
Tremors wrack my body, and hazy voices pierce my mind.
“Any luck so far?”
“No, my prince. Nothing but mumbled nonsense.”
A frustrated growl rips through the space, followed by an echoing crash.
“Muzzle her until she makes sense. And then try harder.”
Hands clutch at my head. Something cold and rough covers my face.
I try to rip it off, but it tightens. And I—
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.