20. Raia
RAIA
Ihave no idea how long it will take for Thessaly’s elixir to take effect, but I take my time changing into a lacy scrap of negligee.
By the time I stride back out into the dining room, I am beyond relieved to find Lucen slumped over in his chair.
Thessaly had warned that I only needed a drop, but Lucen is a large male, and I wasn’t willing to take any chances.
I fetch the rope from the side dresser I’ve hidden it in and begin tying each of his limbs to the chair. Lucen’s gaze is unwavering, but he’s unable to move outside of the occasional blink, groan, or slurred word.
Some dark presence within me rises to the surface—a side of me that hadn’t yet been summoned.
Now, there is no more love and kindness left to tame it.
Grinning down at him, I hark back to his words.
“Shhhhh, sweetling. I’ll make it better.”
Because of my violent intentions, the cane does not appear in my hand when I will it forth, so I’m forced to manually retrieve it.
Cane in hand, I return to stand before Lucen.
Fear and fury reveal the whites of his eyes. He tries to say something. The sound is unintelligible. All I can make out is the repeated, “He…”
He?
I lean closer.
“What’s that, darling?”
He manages a gurgled, “... kill... you.”
Well, that was fast. Apparently, Lucen’s delta between love and death threats is the promise of pain.
My heart hammers in my chest as if, against all logic, he might somehow burst free. The smile I muster is brittle under the weight of the fact that I am indeed going to kill the only male I’ve ever loved. The male who inspired me to gift him my virginity under a mansion of lies.
I huff a disgusted laugh. “Your confidence was always admirable.”
The heartbeat pounding in my ears is nearly as loud as the sound of Lucen’s reed cane cracking against his cheek.
His eyes squeeze shut against the pain as he releases a groan.
The adrenaline coursing through my veins eases the churning of my stomach.
My grip tightens.
I strike his other cheek.
My chest heaves, not from effort but some twisted melange of excitement, righteous vengeance, and nausea in equal measure. Though my mind seems to be having a hard time reconciling the fact that I am physically wounding someone wearing the mask of a man I once loved. Still love.
A mask that I am now forced to mourn.
Watching blood bead in thin lines against the battered skin of his cheeks causes my own face to burn with sympathy pains, and I have to grind my teeth against the hurricane of emotion muddying my thoughts.
Thessaly.
Thessaly.
Thessaly.
I only need my sweet, selfless friend’s name and all the sunshine he cast into my dark existence to strengthen me.
The next strike is less painful—for me, obviously.
Lucen, on the other hand, is beginning to sweat.
“Very clever, this reed cane. You could beat someone unconscious with it, without ever actually doing irreparable harm.”
Soon enough, the reed cane is splitting, my arm is heavy from exhaustion, and still, my fury has not been sated.
It doesn’t take more than a handful of hours before Thessaly’s elixir begins to wear off. Lucen can finally manage words and strain against his binds. His wounds heal within mere minutes after I mark him.
It is exhausting.
Who knew torture would prove to be so strenuous?
Now that he can speak, I’ve finally been able to start my interrogation.
Namely, what the fuck was the point of all this?
Why did Thessaly have to die?
As per usual, his answers remain elusive.
At first glance, one might think Thessaly was only an unfortunate casualty.
But Lucen has more money than he knows what to do with. Why would he have Thessaly robbed in the first place? Surely, Thessaly didn’t need to die, whether or not Lucen had only ever intended to force me into working at his brothel.
None of it makes sense.
I cannot bring myself to kill him until I cure this incessant itch in the back of my mind, and Lucen’s unwavering silence, despite all the torture I’ve inflicted upon him, only further raises my suspicions.
Fisting the front of his hair, I wrench his head up.
“You’ll force me to begin removing extremities if you don’t start giving me answers, Lucen.”
For all his pomp, Lucen’s pain tolerance, mental fortitude, and unwavering loyalty to whatever it is he’s hiding are remarkable.
I grind my teeth. “Let’s start with something simple.”
And perhaps a little irrelevant.
“Why do you have no soulbond?”
The answer I expect is one of surprise. How could he possibly know such a thing?
Instead, Lucen huffs a mirthless laugh.
“I don’t have one…”
My fist tightens in his hair.
“Go on…”
His lips tip up in a grin. “... Thanks to your friend, Azrael.”
My fatigue and shock are too great to bother arguing with him.
“Explain.”
Lucen’s features soften with grim resignation—one might even say heartbreak—as he murmurs his reply.
“She was a soft, feeble thing. A constant test to my patience... and my duties.”
My stomach churns. “Did you kill her?”
His brows knit together, lip curling in disgust and indignation.
“I am not the monster you think I am... I showed her mercy the only way I knew how.”
What the fuck does that mean?
“Is she alive or not?”
Guilt darkens his gaze. “Barely.”
Fed up, I heave a sigh.
“That still doesn’t explain why I feel no tether between you. I should still feel your bond—even if it reaches into an afterrealm.”
He gives me a sad smirk.
“That’s because I had Azrael sever our bond.”
I release his hair and begin pacing. “But that isn’t possible…”
“For him, it takes little more than a thought.”
Despite my urge to argue, my intuition keeps me silent.
The image of Azrael’s letter to Lucen appears in my mind’s eye.
Your debt is cleared.
Akash almighty.
The ring on my finger suddenly burns with the need for me to get it off; again, I tug uselessly at it.
“I need you to remove this ring.”
I don’t actually need him to remove it. When he dies, its magic will surely fade.
Despair slumps Lucen’s shoulders, and again, I am given no reply.
Frustration burns through me.
“I don’t understand why you would go to all this trouble. You had my friend murdered, only to take me in, make me fall in love with you, and take my virginity? Pawn me off to your friends? Enslave me in your brothel? Why not just go be with your soulbound and live in peace?”
Lucen’s sudden bark of laughter makes me jolt. “Live in peace.”
Unease winds through me as his laughter increases to hysteria.
“Live in peace!”
Tears stream down his cheeks as he repeats the words, and I can’t discern whether or not it’s from laughter or his plight. Perhaps both.
My hand reaches behind me to grasp the blade sitting on the dining table. Drawing in a deep breath of fortitude, I press the blade to the pink scar now forming over his heart.
Blood runs anew.
Lucen’s laughter wanes, and he groans through clenched teeth as the blade sinks in.
“Tell me why.”
The pitying look in his eyes makes my stomach churn.
What am I missing?
“You really are completely fucking clueless.”
I feign a thoughtful look as I press the blade deeper.
“You know... I don’t think I like your tone.”
His strained grin is one of pure spite.
“If you kill me, you’ll never get that ring off.”
My heart stutters at the words, but I feign indifference as I pause, leaving the blade sticking out of his chest as I pretend to admire my bejewelled finger.
“I can live with that. You do have impeccable taste, after all. That I cannot deny.”
His chest heaves through the pain. “People will come looking for me.”
“Let them. I’ll even tell them where to find you—in the bellies of all the sharks that will devour you the moment I drop your bleeding carcass into the sea.”
“You don’t understand... If you kill me, he’ll come looking. And you’ll suffer a far worse fate.”
Mustering patience, I massage my brow.
“Truly, Lucen. I tire of all this dancing around the matter. Have you no regard for life and limb? You’re going to force me to resort to gruesome measures.”
“For my own? No. Not anymore... but for her, yes.”
Some irrational part of me experiences a pang of jealousy.
Lucen’s eyes narrow, dancing between each of mine—likely as some inconceivable manipulation blossoms in his mind.
“I’ll tell you everything, and remove the ring, so long as you give me your vow?—”
A sardonic laugh of disbelief escapes me. “My vow?! Eat a filthy fucking cock?—”
Lucen remains undeterred. “Not to spare my life—but that you find her, and save hers.”
My fingers curl into claws to grip the blade as I lower my face within inches of his as though to find proof of his madness. “Are you insane?”
Lucen’s expression only grows more determined.
“It was only a day ago that you beat me without mercy! You pawned me off to your colleague to pay off your debt! You threatened to force me into working in your brothel! And now you expect me to rescue your soulbound?!”
The expression on his face turns resolute. “Her name is Soriya Adonir-Hope.”
I straighten, my jaw hangs—utterly aghast. Not only am I blown away by the fact that this male actually seems to care for anyone but himself, but the selfish part of me is deeply wounded by the fact that female is not me. That I ever believed I could be.
Not that I will ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
“What makes you think I could possibly save her? And from what?”
The look in his eyes turns haunted even as his lip curls with disgust. “Your father. She’s part of his harem.”
His soulbound being part of my father’s harem is far less surprising than the fact that he apparently knows who my father is.
He huffs another mirthless laugh at my slackened, white-faced shock.
Desperation and hope contort his features as his gaze frantically searches mine, and his words rip yet another rug out from underneath my feet.
“It’s your father you have to fear, Raia. Not me.”
None of this makes sense.