4. THE CELL
I hoped Aremis got her out.
The last thing I remembered was my longest and closest friend clutching the arm of my mate, trying to protect her in any way he could.
I couldn’t reach out to either of them with my mind, thanks to the damned poison running rampant through my body and the iron around my wrists and ankles.
Aremis had always been the one to make the tough choices and keep a level head about it. I admired him for that. It was one of the many things I admired about him, actually. And I knew that despite what might happen to me, he would get Auren out of Benmoor and take care of her.
Just as he had made sure I got out all those years ago.
Gods, how long ago was that now?
Over a hundred years, if I had to guess.
And now, I found myself back in a similar shithole of a cell, tucked away deep in the fucking catacombs once again.
My memory was a bit hazy, and my eyesight was still blurred, but the smoke in my cell had subsided.
It would be about another half hour until the guards would come back and infuse the cell with more of that licorice-smelling shit.
Whatever it was, they would leave a fresh canister of it burning in the corner of the cell, and I would be swept away into a deep, forced sleep.
The sleep was awful, full of nightmares of Auren being tortured and dipped into thick black ink that gurgled in her throat as she choked on it.
I hadn’t been able to see the faces of whoever forced her down, no matter how hard I tried to focus.
They were ominous figures, shrouded in darkness, who would submerge her and ask me about her power—what she was capable of.
If I would only answer, they’d stop.
The first time I’d seen Auren go under, I roared in protest and tried to get to her, but my body wouldn’t move.
I was powerless and limp, cursed to lie there and watch my mate succumb to those inky depths, while hands of dripping pitch held her down.
With every black air bubble that surfaced, I panicked more and more.
The questioning continued. Oily voices weaved in and out of my mind like snakes. Bargains were offered.
Tell me what she is capable of, and you will be rewarded.
Bring her to me, and your court will be spared.
Then I remembered that it was all an illusion—nothing more than Ramil’s falsely-woven realities, made worse by the effects of the poison. He showed me what he wanted me to see, what he knew would bother me the most. But through every nightmare, I kept my mouth shut and gave up nothing.
I watched helplessly, clenching my teeth until they were on the verge of cracking, as my mate was stripped and beaten, held against her will by magic, and forced to lie still while those stranger’s hands roamed over her naked body.
I knew it wasn’t real, but it looked pretty damn convincing, and I raged inside nonetheless.
With each bout, the entities dealt my mate a new form of punishment for my lack of cooperation.
And each time, it became harder and harder for me to watch.
I didn’t know what condition Auren was really in, but if I learned that she was harmed in any way, I would shatter the world.
I wouldn’t care who saw my shadowfire. Ramil, Lyceius—all of them would burn from the inside out.
I dragged my chained hands along the wet stone floor beside me and rubbed the gritty water between my fingertips, grounding myself with the feeling.
You are here, and Auren is home.
I wouldn’t accept any alternative other than the one where she was safe. Because spiraling off into hopelessness was much harder to come back from.
Damn, I missed her.
The day they threw me in this cell, I thought I heard her voice. But it was so far away, and I had no way to reach back out, though I’d tried. In the brief moment her voice had echoed in my mind, I felt her resolve. And that’s what made me so certain Aremis had gotten her out.
He was probably developing a plan. He was the only one who knew these catacombs. And if anyone could devise a plan of escape, it would be him.
I reached up and scrubbed a hand over my jawline, feeling the thick stubble that had grown out and covered my cheeks and chin.
Time seemed to be playing games with me.
I knew it had been at least a few days, but I couldn’t be sure.
There was no light to go by. Only the intervals at which the guards would enter my door and delight me with their presence.
In between each bout of poison and mental torture, my physical body was subject to whatever the guards felt I deserved.
The first day, it was their fists, which I thought was a meager, pitiful attempt at torture.
I was running on so much adrenaline and rage when I came out of my first dose of poison from the throne room, that I hadn’t felt a single hit.
The second day, they stripped off my shirt, chained me to the wall, and ripped open my back with leather whips tipped in iron.
That fucking stung.
I didn’t make it any easier on myself by smirking through it all, but the thought of what I would do to them once I was free of these damned restraints made it hard not to.
The wounds and lacerations were still fresh, thanks to the iron chains stifling my healing ability and negating my power, but they would mend with time.
Today, they’d brought in a makeshift wooden table and left it in the center of the cell for me to stare at. It wouldn’t be long before they returned and used it to do whatever else they thought would get me to break.
It seemed the fuckers were going to get creative this time around.
Just as I closed my eyes and pushed the thoughts of torture to the back of my mind, the door opened, and a handful of males strode in. None of them said a word as they yanked me up by my arms and dragged me across the room.
I hated feeling weak and powerless, and I was reminded of the pathetic entirety of it as they hauled my body onto the table and secured my iron shackles to the underside of it.
Another figure entered the cell and casually made his way to my side.
Ramil.
I wanted to spit in his face as he smirked down at me, but I kept my cool, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“Finally decided to do the dirty work yourself, did you?” I rasped.
He gave me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun. You know how that goes.”
I scoffed and looked past him to the damp stone ceiling.
“I must admit, I’m still disappointed that you’re here instead of Auren.
I had this cell specifically reserved for her, you know.
” He began circling around the table. “I shouldn’t have left her alone for so long that day.
She’s stronger than I realized, otherwise The Proper Death would have taken her out much quicker.
You see, it was a minor dose, but still potent enough to render any normal fae completely unconscious within minutes.
It would kill a human within seconds. But she’s not entirely human, is she? ”
I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes on the ceiling.
“This would all be so much easier if you would just tell me what you know of her. No human could survive the poison, so that leaves only one other option . . .”
I closed my eyes and let a small smile lift the corners of my mouth. I wouldn’t give him a damn thing.
His annoyance rippled off him. “I must have guessed correctly, then, if you’re so inclined to keep her secrets. You seem to have developed a rather unique attachment to the little half-breed bitch.”
My eyes snapped open at his words.
“Ah, there it is. A male’s greatest weakness. You do care for her.” He stroked the Alatyr that hung from his neck. “Do you long for the power that courses beneath her skin, like I do?”
A low warning growl rumbled in my throat as the mating bond reared its suppressed head.
He chuckled to himself. “Your advisor knows many of my little secrets. Has he told you any of them? Has he told you what lies here, beneath my palace, in the very place you’re being kept?”
I knew what he spoke of, but confirming it would only allow him to scheme even further. The less he knew that I knew, the better.
“I bet you’re wondering why I even let you live.” He scoffed. “I’ll tell you . . .” He reached into a small pouch that hung from his waist and closed his fist around what sounded like pieces of metal. “I believe that you would make a good ally.”
The words caught me off guard.
An ally? What the hell is he talking about?
“War is on the horizon. The fallen one is building his armies and readying them to strike once more. And this time will be final. I could put in a good word for you—spare your court if you’d only agree to bend the knee to him, and to me.
If you were to join me, we could be a force to be reckoned with.
Imagine what your shadowfire could do if it was infused with Old Magic.
Imagine what he could allow us to become. ”
There it was. An admission. As good of one as I would get. He was working with Lyceius.
As far as what he was promised . . . power, most likely, and protection when war inevitably came knocking on our doorstep again.
I wasn’t what he truly wanted in the end. He may dress it up with offers of endless power and favors from the fallen god, but what he really wanted was Auren, and I was the easiest way to her. By keeping me alive, he was waging that she would return for me with a vengeance.
Whether he’d been tasked to apprehend Auren, or he’d made the attempt for his own reasons, he’d failed. Miserably. Offering me some sort of bargain that would work to his favor only revealed how desperate he was becoming.
There was no version of this where I yielded anything of mine to him or to Lyceius. Not my mate, not my territory, not my honor.
He frowned at my continued lack of response. “I know your power is far more than what you lead on.”
My shadows slithered under my skin as if they were laughing, low and vicious. Ramil had no idea what my power was capable of. He knew nothing of how it warred with my very soul. How the well of it only grew deeper with time, and more . . . restless.
“Together, we could heighten it.” He paused at my side. “And with Auren, we would be unstoppable.”
I turned to meet his eyes. “I have to admit, your dreams are ambitious. Even if they are hopeless.”
He sighed. “I didn’t take you for a fool.”
“Nor I you. But I realize now that I was wrong.”
His smirk grated against my bones as he leaned over me again. “You will tell me what I want to know about Auren, one way or another. And after that, I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind and join me.”
I offered him a mocking smile. “Good luck with that.”
He opened his hand and began moving pieces around his palm before plucking one up and holding it in front of his face, admiring it. “That facade will crack soon enough. Until then, I’ll let you rethink your decision.”
The piece he studied was an iron nail, about three inches in length.
He returned the rest of them to the pouch at his side and held out his free hand.
A guard near the doorway quickly approached and handed him a mallet.
I stiffened as he gripped the handle and brought the nail to my forearm, letting the sharpened tip hover just above my skin.
“This is only as difficult as you make it, High Lord.”
My power fizzled beneath my skin, pleading to be let out, but rendered useless by the iron around my wrists and ankles.
I felt the sting as he pressed the tip of the nail into my skin, and my heartbeat sped up as he slowly lowered the mallet to the nailhead.
“Any little bit of information will suffice.”
I met his glare with my own, before returning my focus to the ceiling, my breath coming in short bursts, anticipating the strike of the mallet on that nail . . . the burn that would follow . . .
Ramil chuckled under his breath, and the mallet struck, driving the iron spike half an inch into my arm. I arched my back at the pain and stifled a groan. The iron sent bites of fire through my skin and muscle, pulsing like a venomous heartbeat.
Ramil drew another nail from the pouch and moved up to my bicep. “Anything at all . . .” he taunted, positioning the nail and mallet to strike.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
The iron punctured deep into my muscle, and the pain ignited once more, shooting up through my shoulder. It radiated into my bones, and I jerked against the table at what felt like lightning sizzling down a wire within me. My eyes watered at the sensation.
The fucker had hit a nerve.
He reached for another nail and moved to the soft spot above my collarbone.
My breath continued its short, harsh rhythm as I awaited the pain.
The bite of each spike sent a shock through my body, adding to the network of agony that pulsed against my bones.
With each puncture, the metal suppressed my healing ability even further.
I couldn’t remember the last time I felt my own blood actually trickle down my skin. It made me feel vulnerable, and I fucking hated that feeling with a passion.
“Pity,” Ramil tsked, swiping at the blood that slowly dripped from the puncture near my wrist before pressing on the nailhead with his thumb.
I fought back a groan as the nail wobbled in my flesh, fresh blood oozing out of the wound. When he began moving toward my legs, I shifted under my restraints. My pants were still on, which meant he would drive these next nails in with more force to get through the thick fabric.
I had to hand it to him for the tactic. Anyone with a lesser resolve wouldn’t last through it.
His goal was to chip away at my sanity, but I wouldn’t let him.
I grounded myself in the thought of Auren’s face—particularly the first time I showed her my shadowfire in the meadow back in Elandrew.
She’d looked at me like she had seen the real me.
And she wasn’t afraid.
I’d been falling for her since the night before that, when we first danced at Lumeri.
And when we shared that moment at The Lookout .
. . when she grabbed my hand and looked at me .
. . the reverence in her eyes made time stop.
I knew then that I loved her. She was my mate, and I would endure an eternity of pain if it meant keeping her safe.
Not being able to feel the connection between us now was its own form of torture. I wanted to turn every enemy to ash for keeping her from me. I hadn’t realized how much it would tear me apart to not be able to communicate with her on a whim. The ability had never failed me.
Until this poison.
Until these iron chains.
I stayed focused on the image of Auren’s face, on her smile that always made my heart beat twice as fast. I recalled her voice from memory, the way she said my name. I played it over again in my mind.
But as a nail was driven deep into my inner thigh, and the poison swept back into the atmosphere, Auren’s sweet face faded out, and the darkness swept in.