Page 4 of Secrets of Ruin

There had to be a way out of here, but the ophidians had never shown any signs of weakness or made any mistakes with their prisoners. He didn’t hold out hope someone would rescue them.

He had no doubt his family was looking for him, but the chances of finding this pyramid in Doomed Valley were slim to none. It was a possibility but not one he counted on. They had to make their own opportunities here… somehow.

Slithering forward on their tails, the bottom half of the ophidians was that of a snake, while the top half was of a man or woman. When one of them rose on his tail, his head nearly touched the ten-foot-high ceiling.

Their yellow eyes, with elliptical pupils, surveyed what remained of those trapped in the cells. Some forked tongues flicked in and out, but most remained unmoving.

Their hair flowed to their waists, and neither the men nor the women wore any clothing. All of them clutched the silver sticks they used to immobilize their prey.

Brokk could easily recall being jolted by one of those things, and his body tensed in preparation. If they came for him today, he’d feel the torment of that thing, but worse, Kaylia would have to endure it if they decided it was her turn.

He glanced at her as his fangs tingled and his compressed lips twitched toward a snarl. When it came to her, it was far worse to watch as they beat and tortured her than it was to be the one enduring the abuse.

Nothing in his life had ever been worse than that, including this cell, these creatures, and the suffering they unleashed. She’d come to mean so much to him; he loved her, and the idea of losing her caused something primitive to unravel within him.

If given the chance, he’d gladly destroy every ophidian with his bare hands. He’d tear them apart piece by tiny piece for what they’d done to her.

She was his heart, but more, while trapped here, he’d grown to suspect she might also be his consort. Unlike the dark fae, vampires had fated loves they bonded with. All immortals could love another, but a vampire’s consort was something rare and special, like a lycan with their mate.

Kaylia being his consort would explain his intense reaction to her, but so could the fact he’d fallen in love with her. Either way, he couldn’t stand the ophidians focusing on her today.

Brokk’s heart sank when another ophidian slithered through the door. The man’s black hair flowed past his waist and down his tail almost to the ground. His yellow eyes shone in the glow of the torches on the walls.

A golden nemes headdress flecked with emeralds and rubies was perched on the emperor’s head. Brokk had never learned the man’s name, but this creature ruled the ophidians and had imprisoned Ryker’s king.

Where the amsirah king was, Brokk didn’t know, but he doubted Leonidas was dead as he was far too valuable to the ophidians. However, he wasn’t in this dungeon with them, meaning they had hidden him somewhere else in Doomed Valley or another realm.

Gritting his teeth, Brokk kept his displeasure over seeing this man concealed. The emperor didn’t come every time the ophidians doled out their torture, but when he did arrive, someone usually died.

CHAPTER FOUR

Behind the emperor, another table rolled in; foot-long spikes covered this one. Much like the rack, thick, metal manacles hung where the head and feet of their victim would go.

Not good. Not fucking good.

Brokk glanced down through the row of those who remained. He didn’t want to see any more of them die, especially not so soon after the last amsirah. The ophidians were upping their game, or the emperor was unusually bloodthirsty this week.

Brokk couldn’t stand to lose another one already. They’d all grown closer while trapped here; he knew their names, histories, and about the families waiting for them.

But while he didn’t want to see any of them die, he’d far prefer it was one of them instead of Kaylia. If they went for her, he’d tear this place apart.

As he pondered it, helplessness overwhelmed him. If they decided to go for her, he couldn’t do anything to stop them.

He couldn’t touch the bars of his cell, let alone stop them from killing her. A bellow of frustration lodged in his chest, but he’d never let these monsters know how upset he was.

The emperor’s attention shifted to his cell, the last one in the row. As he met the man’s callous gaze, Brokk’s eyes narrowed.

The corner of the emperor’s mouth quirked into a smile. “What are you? You’re not an amsirah or a witch, not with those fangs, but you were out in the day when we captured you.”

It was the first time the man had spoken to him or any of them. He usually pointed out the poor souls he wanted and watched as his followers removed them from their cells, brought them forth, and tortured them.

Brokk would prefer not to have a conversation with this beast, but maybe if he spoke with the emperor, he could somehow stop the horror about to unfold. He doubted it, but at least it would delay this freak a little.

“I am half dark fae and half vampire,” Brokk replied.

“Interesting,” the emperor murmured. “Who are you?”

“Brokk of the house of the dark fae, and who are you?”