Chapter 19 Blaise
I pressed the damp washcloth against my back and let out a shuddering breath. The self-inflicted wounds stung like a mother, but that pain kept me focused on what mattered most.
Setting the bloodied scourge on my bedside table, I tried to clear my mind of her.
The walls weren’t thick enough in this place to prevent me from hearing Katarina enjoying her time with Aiden and Dorian last night and again this morning.
It had been torture listening to the three of them, knowing that they brought her pleasure in a way I could only fantasize about.
She would never invite me in like she did with those two, and that realization caused the type of pain I couldn’t beat out of me.
Not that I didn’t try.
My back burned with new cuts that would be healed by dinner.
Perhaps I should ask Roman to send me away for a while so I didn’t have to be tormented by her presence.
It was bad enough that the wolf and the fae constantly reminded me of my shortcomings with my inability to shift.
I didn’t need to see them strutting their stuff throughout the house with Katarina by their side.
If Roman wouldn’t send me away, then maybe I needed to visit the brothel in the underbelly of the city. It was run by the voodoo priestess and catered specifically to people like me—outcasts too dangerous for human companionship.
“Fuck,” I muttered, eyeing up the whip and wondering if I should partake in a few more lashings. I hated not being in control of my emotions and not only was it dangerous, but it put us all at risk.
I was reaching for the leather scourge when I felt the room shake. Dust fell from the ceiling and the lights flickered several times. I jumped to my feet and ran toward my door. But when I opened the metal beast and tried to walk through the threshold, my face smashed into an invisible wall.
The searing pain of my broken nose momentarily overshadowed my anger.
I spat blood on the floor, not missing how some of it trickled down my naked chest and dribbled onto my bare feet.
Slowly lifting my head to the door, I squinted to see if I had accidentally run into the wall instead.
With my hands in front of me, I stepped forward until they pressed against a barrier that felt like glass.
But it wasn’t glass. I had no idea what the hell it was.
Help her, my dragon suddenly roared inside of me. He very rarely spoke to me—buried so deep he would never be able to see his own time in the sun. She needs you.
I pounded my fists against the barricade hearing the echoing sounds of my punch each time. “Let me out!” I screamed.
“Murielle told us you liked pain.”
I snapped my head to the side and suddenly noticed three people standing in the hallway just outside my door. No, not three people. Three witches. How the hell had they gotten in here?
They wore hooded black cloaks, and I could barely make out their facial features from behind the invisible wall. I did see strands of graying hair which immediately sent a wave of worry to my bones. Old witches meant powerful witches.
The woman who spoke first continued. “I hear you are the dragon that cannot shift.”
I simply growled at her as I pressed my hands into the obstruction.
“You know, we could help you with that.” The three witches started chanting, and just as I was trying to translate the Latin, a sudden sharp sting tore through my back.
I dropped to my knees, screaming as my skin felt like it was ripping apart.
My bones cracked and my ribs snapped. I fell forward, arm around my stomach trying to hold down the bile.
Sweat coated my skin and my heart raced faster than I could ever remember it doing before.
The chanting stopped and I got a minute of relief. Everything still ached, but it didn’t feel like an animal was going to erupt from my skin anymore. “What are you doing to me?” I asked through my shallow breaths.
“You may not be able to call to your animal, half-breed. But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel the pain of the shifters.”
They started chanting again and I threw back my arms as the agony tore through me once more. My shoulder blades elongated and then shrank back to their normal size. My fingertips formed talons longer than an eagle’s and then disappeared. Every snap of bone and rip of a muscle was pure misery.
I enjoyed pain, but this was not a hurt I could tolerate much longer.
“What do you want?” I screamed through gritted teeth. “Why are you here?”
The witches didn’t answer me and instead continued their chants which involved words like transition and twin. I couldn’t understand much more because my ears kept changing shape as my jaw cracked and twisted into another form.
I cowered into a ball, disappointed with my inability to fight back and wishing for the anguish to stop. I thought about Katarina and the others in the house. What was Murielle doing? How dare she come into our territory and torture us.
Shouting into the air, I tried to push up to my feet. It was an effort, and I only did it because deep down inside I felt my dragon give me strength. He couldn’t have my body, but he could support my mind.
“Stop!” I roared at the women, falling into the invisible wall, and letting them see what they were doing to me. The witch on the right stumbled backward into the hallway but didn’t quit her incantation.
“Please,” I begged. “Stop this!”
They didn’t.
And as the pain began to darken my senses around me, I thought about Katarina. I prayed to the universe that she would find a way to avoid being tortured by Murielle and maybe even find a way to escape.
Because Katarina deserved better than us.
She should run as fast as she could from the men of the House of Shadows.