Chapter 31 #2
I’d never reach the shard with my arms bound, not with his body blocking the blade.
But, if I could leap off the bed, I could rush to my weapons corner and reach for a sword—no, I’d be too slow.
He’d be on me before I could cut myself free.
And that was if I could even figure out how to grab a blade with my restraints.
If I was going to free myself like this I needed time.
Time I didn’t have—not as long as he was in the room with me.
I could try to call on Rakashonim. But that felt foolish. The power was great—but volatile, and I still didn’t have control over it. I couldn’t be sure if it would come, how hard it would hit me, or how quickly it would go through me. Not without the shard in my hand to temper it.
He clicked his tongue, looking pointedly at my weapons, then back to me, meeting my eyes. He shook his head.
“I know what you’re thinking, what you’re plotting. Give it up,” he growled. “You’d never make it in time.”
My stomach twisted. “Oh?”
“You’re fast,” he said. “I remember.” He licked his lips.
“But not fast enough. You wouldn’t get past me.
And come on, do you really think I’d let you?
” He shook his head again. “I wouldn’t. And even if by the damned Gods you managed it, this mountain is full of akadim.
They’d have you captured and laid at my feet in seconds.
One order from me is all it would take. Trust me.
You don’t want to test that theory. All the akadim in this mountain are not just loyal to me, they’re bound to me, to their Arkturion. ” He sounded proud.
My chest heaved, my pulse racing too fast. “I-I heard about that. Tovayah maischa on your promotion.”
He chuckled cruelly, sitting all the way up, his eyes running up and down the blade. It glowed red, catching the faint light of the fire. He tilted his head, and swung it again, the blade arcing just over my body.
“I don’t remember this,” he frowned. “Your other effects I know. But not this one. Where did you get it?”
“It’s um … a long story,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Was it that soturion I saw you with? The blond one fighting for you?”
“Yes,” I said, before I could think better of it. I dared to look at Rhyan, meeting his eyes, and asked, “What happened to him?”
He shrugged, nonchalantly, like he wasn’t at all concerned. “Ran off. If he comes back, we’ll find him.” His eyes were fixed on the blade, he was turning every which way, examining it from every angle, letting the steel catch the firelight, and then the reflection of his face. His monstrous face.
I tucked that piece of information away. Auriel hadn’t been caught. Auriel was still out there. That was good. He’d come for me. Why did Rhyan seem so unbothered? Was that because he didn’t see him as a threat? Was he that confident? Yes. After all, he’d captured me.
He turned the shard in his hand again, he seemed mesmerized by the crystal, his cure, and rested the blunt side of the blade against his knee. “So red,” he said. “And bright.”
I sucked in a breath. “It is.”
“Too bright.” He pulled his gaze away and looked toward me again. There was a light in his eyes, glistening in a way that made my heart stop. That reminded me that he was a predator. And I was the prey.
He started to inch across the bed toward me. There wasn’t far to go. He was already taking up nearly all of the space there was. My throat dried as he settled the sword down, carefully placing it on his other side. I stilled as he reached for me. His hand grasped my shoulder, gripping it painfully.
My heart sank. “Rhyan? What are you—”
He pushed me down, and I landed on my back, my arms and hands crushed beneath me.
I hissed in pain, my stomach clenching violently as he leered.
His body crushed against my side, then he wrapped a leg around mine, so he was half beside me, half on top of me.
By the Gods, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe.
Fuck! This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. Not to me. Not like this.
Not with Rhyan.
He lifted himself up onto his elbow, and hovered over me, making it plain just how much larger he was—how much more powerful.
He’d always been bigger than me. Taller.
Stronger. At least, until my power arrived.
But I hadn’t always noticed the height difference really, or the weight—because I’d always felt so safe with him, so comfortable.
He’d always been so gentle with me, so careful.
Never once using his body against me. Now the power it exuded, the strength rippling through every distorted, elongated part of his akadim form was terrifying.
I shuddered, and tried to slide away from him. I nearly rolled off the bed.
“No,” he said, his hand wrapping around my neck. He pulled me closer, sliding me back to him. Staring down at me, his claws digging into my hair, he started to squeeze. And I coughed, choking, his grip roughened, tightening and I kicked helplessly against the stone strength of his leg over mine.
“Rhy—” I choked.
He released his hold, looking unbothered by the tears in my eyes, and slid his hand up the length of my neck to the underside of my chin.
His fingers used to be callused at the tips and blunt, his fingernails always trimmed.
But now, all I could feel were the sharpened edges of the claw that spiked from his fingers.
Trembling, I tried to look away, but he grabbed my jaw and forced my gaze to meet his.
Forced me to stare into their red glow, into the light which was devoid of humanity.
Of life. The rest of his body pressed into mine.
“Rhyan, please. Please, don’t do this.”
“You never answered my question before,” he drawled.
“Y-Your question?” I asked. My entire body was shaking.
I couldn’t think. Couldn’t even remember what he’d asked me.
Or anything he’d said. Just that I was here, his prisoner.
Bound, and weaponless beneath him. And he had my shard.
He had the light of the Valalumir—his cure, and I couldn’t touch it, couldn’t wield it.
The torch flickered and hissed, darkening as smoke undulated. And beyond our alcove more akadim moved about, growling low. They were arguing, and whatever they were fighting about, it was getting louder. More intense. There was a slapping sound, and then another, followed by a roar.
Rhyan squeezed my face, forcing my attention back to him. “What were you dreaming about?” he asked.
“D-Dreaming?” My heart thudded.
“Mmmmhmmmm.” His nostrils flared. “I could sense it. The quickening of your pulse, the stirring in your breath.” He squeezed my chin harder, forcing my lips to squish together.
“Your heart pounding, your hips wiggling.” He smirked.
“But most of all,” his tongue darted out, sliding against the tip of a fang.
“I could scent it.” He paused, and took a pointedly, long, drawn out sniff.
I stiffened, my entire body tensing.
“You smelled sweet, and musky, and … wet. Makes me think that it was about me.” He leaned in, his lips just over mine, his breath metallic. Like blood. “Makes me think it was about fucking me.”
I gasped, and shook my head. “I … Rhyan.” Think. Think! He wanted to know, he wanted proof it was about him. Fine. But he needed to give me something in return.
“I-I can tell you,” I stammered. “But I need you to untie me first.”
He chuckled. “Untie you? Just to talk? It’s not like I sealed your mouth shut.” He released my chin and suddenly he’d pushed me back onto my side and gripped the ropes behind my back.
“What are you—?” I screamed.
He lifted me up by the ropes. My arms burned, and started to go numb as the rope tore into them. Something warm dripped down my hands. My wrists were being cut.
He watched me, literally dangling like a toy for him to play with. My entire body hung, suspended in the air, and slowly, I began to turn as I kicked helplessly. He looked transfixed, and then without warning, he dropped me back onto the bed.
I landed with a wheezing feeling in my lungs before he pushed me onto my back again, and this time he crawled completely on top of me.
I shook my head. “Rhyan, please, please.”
“Untie you?” he asked again, his eyebrows lifted.
Both of them. Something he hadn’t been able to do since his father had scarred his face.
He tilted his head, his red eyes running down my body.
“You mean these ropes?” He reached beneath me, his hand sliding up my ass, to my bound hands.
The rope tugged violently beneath me as he brushed his nose against my neck, sniffing me.
He smelled so metallic and sulfuric, like he was part of the cave.
So unlike himself. But there was something else that made want to retch.
A scent I could only describe as death. He dragged his rough, dry mouth against my skin until he reached my earlobe, wrapping it between his lips.
I closed my eyes, my body shaking. There was a sharp, painful piercing. Fuck. He bit me. I cried out. Warm blood rolled back into my hair, and slid down my neck.
“If you don’t like it,” he growled low under his breath, “Why don’t you just—tear those ropes apart?” He burst into laughter.
A tear rolled down my cheek.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “That was funny.”
I sniffled before I could help myself. Rhyan would have never said that to me. Never made fun of me. But Rhyan would have also never tied me up. He’d have been the one tearing the ropes apart, killing anyone who got in his way to reach me.
And yet—I wondered if there was some way I could play on our history. To make him remember how we were, how he was. To reach the part of him that Auriel swore still existed.
“Rhyan, please,” I begged, my heart pounding. “Please untie me. I need to go. Okay? I just need my weapons back.”