Chapter 10 #2
Go! I screamed at myself. I turned, my mind filling with doubts. Are you insane? You think you will make it to the border alone? The moment he is dead, they will come hunting for you. Along with the Jackals.
There was the sound of a single bellow inside the tower, the clanking of metal. I imagined the Northerner being disemboweled, his guts stringing across the floor, his neck sliced open, draining his life.
It should have made me cheer, should have made me smile as I ran from him, yet I hesitated.
He deserves it.
“Not so fast, fitte.” An arm came around me, a hand covering my mouth, his blade at my throat stifling my scream.
“You are mine now, pet.” He plucked the scythe from my hands, his voice sneering in my ear.
I could tell he was young, his frame lacking the definition of a man, but his body towered over mine.
The jagged edge of the knife pushed into my neck, shallowly slicing through the skin.
“Breed or burn you? How about both.” He pulled me in closer, his hand gripping my hair painfully, his bad breath against my cheek. “Move.” Nudging me back to the tower.
My breath clipped, a panic attack heating my skin as he shoved me back inside the keep.
“Where is she?” a man barked across the dark room, my sight adjusting to the scene before me.
The Northerner was sitting against the wall, two men holding blades against his throat, the three other men surrounding him, their weapons at the ready.
The thin-haired man stood in front like he was in charge.
“I have her,” the boy behind me proudly stated, cockiness crowing in the timbre of his voice. His fingers yanked my head back to him, forcing my eyes to water. “I caught the cunt before she could run.”
The men twisted to us, their eyes widening. The minimal light in the tower lit up their irises with a strange purplish hue, which sparked with hatred and lust. Promising pain. Violence.
“Well, looky here . . .” The lead man stepped to us. His long nose had been broken several times, making it bumpy and off center. “Junior here finally caught something other than syphilis.”
The boy stiffened behind me, his nails digging into my scalp.
“I want her first,” the boy said haughtily. “Since I caught her, I get her.”
“You think that is how it works?” The head man strolled up, his attention completely on me.
“I’m in charge. I get first dibs . . .” His fingers brushed down my cheek.
“So soft and young.” He leaned over me, his dry, cracking lips close to mine.
“Maybe I’ll flay you open first, before I fuck you.
” His taunt tasted of disdain. “Just like your guards did to my wife.”
I tried to swallow back my fear, my chin shaking as I forced it to stay up.
“My wife was young and beautiful like you.” He spoke only for me, his hand picking up a severed strand, twirling it around his dirty finger. “Full of life and joy. Before her own kind mutilated and raped her. Then strung her up, still alive, for me to find later.”
My stomach twisted; my mind was not able to rectify what he said with any truth I knew, though it matched what the Northerner told me. Killing in battle was one thing but doing something like that was abhorrent.
“You will pay for what your king did here, Day Raven.” What would they do to me if they found out my title, who my father was?
He dragged his blade down my sternum. “Get on your knees.”
All focus was on me, the other men gleefully waiting for me to obey.
My gaze shot over to the Night Raven against the wall. His black eyes stared intently, but his face was blank of emotion. He showed no sign he cared about what was going to happen.
He probably didn’t.
“I said get on your knees.” The man pushed his blade in enough to pierce through my bodice.
My jaw clenched, trying not to sob.
The Night Raven might have been right; I was better off being killed and eaten by the Jackals.
These men would do worse.
My limbs shaking, I lowered down to my knees. Hold your chin high, Wren. No matter what, never let them think they can break you.
The man grinned over me, stepping closer, his hand going to his belt.
“First you are gonna choke on my dick, fitte. I wanna hear you gagging.” He positioned the sword tip at my eyeball. “Any hint of teeth and I will stab you through your eye. Understand?” He undid his belt, yanking at his trousers.
Dots splattered over my vision, sound whooshing in my ears, afraid I would already breach the promise to myself.
The man’s pants dropped to his ankles, his hand gripping himself, shoving it closer to my face. Vomit pushed up from my gut, coating my tongue.
“Open your mouth.”
His hand struck hard and quick when I didn’t obey, searing pain across my face, jerking my head to the side with the force. A cry squeaked out as he clutched my head, yanking me back to him. “I told you to open your mouth!”
“And I’m telling you. You touch her again . . .” A deep, menacing voice rumbled in the room, directing all the attention back to the Northerner. He sat there, appearing calm, but that vein ticked in his jaw. “And I will shove that boiled sausage you call a dick down your own throat.”
The shock at his statement held in the room like a breath.
It was only a second, a fraction of a moment. The Night Raven’s eyes met mine, his hand clenching around something, his chin dipping subtly in silent communication.
The Northerner jumped up, gripping the knife he hid under his balled-up cloak, the same one he took from me earlier.
Pitching forward, he slashed the blade across one of the villagers’ throats.
A gurgling cry was drowned by the spray of blood, the villager dropping to the ground.
The other three roared in anger, rushing him.
The sound of clanking metal and grunts pervaded the tower, howling with the wind.
I slammed my fist into the groin of the man in front of me, doubling him over in agony. Surging to my feet, I rammed my elbow into the boy’s gut behind me. Twisting around, my fingers reached for the scythe.
“No!” he bellowed, tugging it back. The sickle flew from his grip, skating over the stone floor, glinting it with sparks. Darting for the weapon, I once again felt hands tangle into my long locks like reins, hauling me back with a yelp.
“You fucking bitch!” Junior turned red with rage, barreling for me, holding nothing back as he tackled me to the ground.
The scythe just out of my reach, he smashed my forehead into the ground, leaving me dazed.
He flipped me over, straddling me, his palms wrapping around my throat.
“Die, hore!” The raw hatred he felt, because of the color of my hair, the hue of my eyes, vibrated through him, his hands clamping down, cutting off air, blurring my vision.
My legs kicked; my arms thrashed.
I was going to die.
“You won’t always have a weapon.” Yanric plucked the sword from my hands at one of our training sessions. “Use what is around you. Anything can become a weapon if you use enough force.”
My eyes flicked around me, spotting the overturned stone the little creature hid behind earlier this evening.
I could feel consciousness fading. My hand stretched out, struggling to reach the rock, my fingers curling around it.
A bellow of rage bucked in my throat. With all my energy, I smashed the brick into the boy’s temple.
His body tumbled off me, his hand releasing from my neck.
Air and rage coursed through me, and I surged up with gasping breaths.
The boy held his head, blood gushing from the wound.
He tried to push himself back up, snarling with fury, spitting with retaliation.
My fingers curled around the stone. I slammed the stone back down on him again, crushing his skull.
His scream coiled in my gut, but all the trauma I had been through made me numb to his cries.
I was sick of being the prey. Tired of having no control.
I wanted to be the demon they feared.
Everything hazed around me, my brick dropping down on him over and over, the squelching of his brain finally stopping me, his body limp, his skull caved in.
“you fuckin’ hore!” The bellow tore my attention away from the pulverized meat next to me. The leader shuddered with wrath, lurching for me, his blade swiping down.
A roar shook the crumbling stone and the Northerner careened into him. A small hand knife protruded from his collar bone, trailing blood down his tunic. Both figures crashed into the ground, rolling across the floor.
Another man stood over the pair, aiming his axe at the back of the Night Raven’s head as the other two tussled. He swung it up, about to drop the blade down on my kidnapper.