Chapter Eight
Ace
I winced as I shifted on the cold stone floor, my bones still aching despite the past few weeks of Kade's attentive care. He had surprised me. He was at odds with everything I'd been taught about our enemies. I found myself warming to him against my better judgment.
Closing my eyes, I let myself indulge in a daydream.
It was something that had gotten me through the days of torment.
Luana and I, hand in hand, strolling through the grand halls of the Ember palace.
Kade and Emelyn, as emperor and empress, welcoming us with open arms. A world at peace, the bitter war between our peoples finally laid to rest.
But would Emelyn even want such power? The sister I'd known back in our quiet corner of Osparia would have balked at the idea. Then again, so much had changed.
The harsh scrape of metal on metal shattered my thoughts. My eyes snapped open as the dungeon door groaned on its hinges. I didn't need to look to know who it was. Valla's presence sent ice crawling down my spine.
Time seemed to slow as she sauntered toward my cell, each click of her heels echoing ominously. Her fingers trailed along the iron bars, a mocking caress that made my skin crawl.
"Well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Look who's all healed up and ready for more fun." She didn’t know about Kade helping me. I assumed she thought I was healing on my own.
I gritted my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
My heart pounded as a single thought consumed me: would this be the day she finally finished what she'd started?
I could hear my own ragged breathing, see the anticipation glittering in Valla's eyes.
Then, with a resounding clang that made me flinch, she unlocked my cell door.
"You look good, perfectly breakable again," Valla said, her eyes roving over me like a predator sizing up its prey.
I lifted my chin defiantly, determined not to show weakness. Her smirk only widened. Her fist suddenly connecting with my gut. The air rushed from my lungs as I folded forward.
Valla leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear. "I think I'm going to use you as my workout dummy today," she whispered. "And when you're nothing but a bloody, bruised mess, I'll finish you off and leave you to rot in this cell."
My stomach churned at her words, but it was her next threat that made my blood run cold.
"Then, I'm going to cut off your ears and send them to your dear Peacebringer of a sister."
Rage exploded through me. I lunged forward and snarled, straining against my chains.
Valla giggled, a sound that chilled me to my core. "There it is . . . that light that's still inside you." Her eyes gleamed with malice. "I'm going to extinguish it."
Another punch landed, then another. My hands, pinned above my head, were useless to block the onslaught. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as her fists connected again and again.
Is this how I would die? I wondered, my thoughts hazy with pain. Not in battle, but chained and helpless?
Kicks joined the punches, each impact sending shockwaves of agony through my battered body. I lost track of time, lost in a haze of pain and the desperate need to endure.
Then, I heard it. The distinctive crack of a whip being unfurled.
Please, not again . . .
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The whip sang its vicious song, each lash biting deep into my flesh. I clenched my jaw, determined not to give Valla the satisfaction of hearing me scream. Fire blazed across my back, my chest, my arms—anywhere her cruel instrument could reach.
"So stubborn," Valla taunted, her breath ragged from exertion. "Let's see how long that lasts."
Crack.
Crack.
Crack.
The world narrowed to nothing but pain and the rhythmic snap of the leather against my skin. My ears rang, drowning out everything but the sound of my own labored breathing. I retreated into myself, desperately searching for something—anything—to cling to.
Luana's face swam before my mind's eye. Hold on , I told myself. For her. For home.
"Well, you’re being a bore." Valla's voice cut through the fog. "Time for something new, I think."
I forced my eyes open, watching warily as she set aside the bloodied whip. What new torment did she have planned?
"Tell me, Ace," she purred, producing a wicked-looking knife. "How attached are you to your fingers?" She must’ve enjoyed the slight drop of my mask because her laugh was cruel. “I think I’ll start with the rest of you first, you know, like a warmup.”
The knife glinted as she approached. I tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. The first cut was shallow, teasing. Then deeper. And deeper.
I lost track of what she did after that. Cutting, burning, twisting bone. On and on it went, until I couldn't tell where one pain ended and another began. My world became a maze of agony I couldn’t escape, each new torment blurring into the next.
Was I even still whole? I couldn't be sure.
I was gasping, hanging limply by my chains as Valla circled me like a hungry cat. Each labored breath sent waves of anguish through my battered body. She trailed her long, polished nails along the sensitive edges of my wings, sending involuntary shudders through me.
"Such beautiful feathers," she murmured, her touch almost gentle. "I wonder how long it would take them to grow back if I plucked them from your back?"
I gritted my teeth, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. But inside, terror churned in my gut. I closed my eyes, trying to center myself. My wings were everything to me. If she was going for them, maybe this would be my end. Would Kade come back and find me dead?
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Valla snapped, grabbing my chin roughly.
I forced my eyes open, meeting her gaze with as much defiance as I could muster, and then I gathered the blood in my mouth and spit in her face. She didn’t scream, but her expression went slack. Her eerily calm was even more terrifying than her laughter.
Valla took a few steps away from me, and my heart leapt into my throat as I heard the unmistakable sound of a blade being unsheathed.
The soft, metallic song of steel sliding against leather sent a chill down my spine.
I knew that sound intimately from years on the battlefield, but never had it filled me with such dread.
The blade glinted in the dim light as she taunted me, leaving small nicks and cuts along my already battered body.
"You there," she called out, and I startled at the realization that we weren't alone. How had I not noticed another presence? "Hold his wing out for me."
Rough hands grabbed my left wing, stretching it painfully. I thrashed weakly, desperate to break free, but my strength was long gone.
I roared, but it was too late.
The blade came down with sickening force. I heard the crunch of bone, the tearing of flesh and sinew. Pain exploded through me, white-hot and all-consuming. My scream echoed off the cell walls as tears streamed down my face.
"One down," Valla said. "One to go."
As the soldier stretched out my remaining wing, I sobbed. The second cut was just as agonizing as the first. My body convulsed, trembling uncontrollably as shock set in. Valla had finally succeeded. She had shattered me completely.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head up. "Watch," she hissed, her breath hot against my face.
Through blurred vision, I saw her drag my severed wings across the floor, leaving a trail of blood and feathers. My stomach lurched as she positioned them directly in front of me.
"Enjoy the show," she sneered, stepping back.
Flames erupted from her hands, engulfing my wings. The fire danced, consuming what had once been part of me. I couldn't look away. I remained silent, lost in the flames. Those wings had carried me through my entire life. Now they were nothing but kindling for Valla's cruel entertainment.
As the flames raged, I felt a piece of my soul burn away too.
The loss was more than physical—it was the death of freedom, of hope.
I'd never soar again if they didn’t grow back, never feel the wind beneath my feathers.
Would they grow back? She hadn’ dug them out of my back, so maybe there was a chance. Or would I be wingless like Maeve?
Valla crouched before me as the fire died down, leaving only smoldering embers and ash. She scooped a handful of the gray powder, letting it sift through her fingers.
"Pity, they were beautiful," she crooned as she tossed the ash at me. It stuck to the blood smeared across my body. I could feel myself slipping away, darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision.
Luana . . .
I tried to focus on her face. My thoughts were fragmented, scattering like leaves in the wind. Luana. Home. My promise.
My body was shutting down, tremors wracking my frame. The darkness was winning, pulling me under. Why be hopeful about my wings when I was going to die here?
As consciousness faded, my last thoughts weren't of my physical agony. It was the crushing weight of failing Emelyn and breaking my promise to my mate.
I’m so sorry.
Then, mercifully, darkness finally claimed me.