Page 13 of The Edge of Darkness

I wouldn’t accept any alternative other than the one where she was safe. Because spiraling off into hopelessness was much harder to come back from.

Damn, I missed her.

The day they threw me in this cell, I thought I heard her voice. But it was so far away, and I had no way to reach back out, though I’d tried. In the brief moment her voice had echoed in my mind, I felt her resolve. And that’s what made me so certain Aremis had gotten her out.

He was probably developing a plan. He was the only one who knew these catacombs. And if anyone could devise a plan of escape, it would be him.

I reached up and scrubbed a hand over my jawline, feeling the thick stubble that had grown out and covered my cheeks and chin. Time seemed to be playing games with me. I knew it had been at least a few days, but I couldn’t be sure. There was no light to go by. Only the intervals at which the guards would enter my door and delight me with their presence.

In between each bout of poison and mental torture, my physical body was subject to whatever the guards felt I deserved. The first day, it was their fists, which I thought was a meager, pitiful attempt at torture. I was running on so much adrenaline and rage when I came out of my first dose of poison from the throne room, that I hadn’t felt a single hit.

The second day, they stripped off my shirt, chained me to the wall, and ripped open my back with leather whips tipped in iron.

That fucking stung.

I didn’t make it any easier on myself by smirking through it all, but the thought of what I would do to them once I was free of these damned restraints made it hard not to.

The wounds and lacerations were still fresh, thanks to the iron chains stifling my healing ability and negating my power, but they would mend with time.

Today, they’d brought in a makeshift wooden table and left it in the center of the cell for me to stare at. It wouldn’t be long before they returned and used it to do whatever else they thought would get me to break.

It seemed the fuckers were going to get creative this time around.

Just as I closed my eyes and pushed the thoughts of torture to the back of my mind, the door opened, and a handful of males strode in. None of them said a word as they yanked me up by my arms and dragged me across the room.

I hated feeling weak and powerless, and I was reminded of the pathetic entirety of it as they hauled my body onto the table and secured my iron shackles to the underside of it.

Another figure entered the cell and casually made his way to my side.

Ramil.

I wanted to spit in his face as he smirked down at me, but I kept my cool, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Finally decided to do the dirty work yourself, did you?” I rasped.

He gave me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun. You know how that goes.”

I scoffed and looked past him to the damp stone ceiling.

“I must admit, I’m still disappointed that you’re here instead of Auren. I had this cell specifically reserved for her, you know.” He began circling around the table. “I shouldn’t have left her alone for so long that day. She’s stronger than I realized, otherwise The Proper Death would have taken her out much quicker. You see, it was a minor dose, but still potent enough to render any normal fae completely unconscious within minutes. It would kill a human within seconds. But she’s not entirely human, is she?”

I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes on the ceiling.

“This would all be so much easier if you would just tell me what you know of her. No human could survive the poison, so that leaves only one other option . . .”

I closed my eyes and let a small smile lift the corners of my mouth. I wouldn’t give him a damn thing.

His annoyance rippled off him. “I must have guessed correctly, then, if you’re so inclined to keep her secrets. You seem to have developed a rather unique attachment to the little half-breed bitch.”

My eyes snapped open at his words.

“Ah, there it is. A male’s greatest weakness. You do care for her.” He stroked the Alatyr that hung from his neck. “Do you long for the power that courses beneath her skin, like I do?”

A low warning growl rumbled in my throat as the mating bond reared its suppressed head.

He chuckled to himself. “Your advisor knows many of my little secrets. Has he told you any of them? Has he told you what lies here, beneath my palace, in the very place you’re being kept?”

I knew what he spoke of, but confirming it would only allow him to scheme even further. The less he knew that I knew, the better.