Page 14 of The Edge of Darkness

“I bet you’re wondering why I even let you live.” He scoffed. “I’ll tell you . . .” He reached into a small pouch that hung from his waist and closed his fist around what sounded like pieces of metal. “I believe that you would make a good ally.”

The words caught me off guard.

An ally? What the hell is he talking about?

“War is on the horizon. The fallen one is building his armies and readying them to strike once more. And this time will be final. I could put in a good word for you—spare your court if you’d only agree to bend the knee to him, and to me. If you were to join me, we could be a force to be reckoned with. Imagine what your shadowfire could do if it was infused with Old Magic. Imagine what he could allow us to become.”

There it was. An admission. As good of one as I would get. He was working with Lyceius.

As far as what he was promised . . . power, most likely, and protection when war inevitably came knocking on our doorstep again.

I wasn’t what he truly wanted in the end. He may dress it up with offers of endless power and favors from the fallen god, but what he really wanted was Auren, and I was the easiest way to her. By keeping me alive, he was waging that she would return for me with a vengeance.

Whether he’d been tasked to apprehend Auren, or he’d made the attempt for his own reasons, he’d failed. Miserably. Offering me some sort of bargain that would work to his favor only revealed how desperate he was becoming.

There was no version of this where I yielded anything of mine to him or to Lyceius. Not my mate, not my territory, not my honor.

He frowned at my continued lack of response. “I know your power is far more than what you lead on.”

My shadows slithered under my skin as if they were laughing, low and vicious. Ramil had no idea what my power was capable of. He knew nothing of how it warred with my very soul. How the well of it only grew deeper with time, and more . . . restless.

“Together, we could heighten it.” He paused at my side. “And with Auren, we would be unstoppable.”

I turned to meet his eyes. “I have to admit, your dreams are ambitious. Even if they are hopeless.”

He sighed. “I didn’t take you for a fool.”

“Nor I you. But I realize now that I was wrong.”

His smirk grated against my bones as he leaned over me again. “You will tell me what I want to know about Auren, one way or another. And after that, I’ll give you one more chance to change your mind and join me.”

I offered him a mocking smile. “Good luck with that.”

He opened his hand and began moving pieces around his palm before plucking one up and holding it in front of his face, admiring it. “That façade will crack soon enough. Until then, I’ll let you rethink your decision.”

The piece he studied was an iron nail, about three inches in length. He returned the rest of them to the pouch at his side and held out his free hand. A guard near the doorway quickly approached and handed him a mallet. I stiffened as he gripped the handle and brought the nail to my forearm, letting the sharpened tip hover just above my skin.

“This is only as difficult as you make it, High Lord.”

My power fizzled beneath my skin, pleading to be let out, but rendered useless by the iron around my wrists and ankles.

I felt the sting as he pressed the tip of the nail into my skin, and my heartbeat sped up as he slowly lowered the mallet to the nailhead.

“Any little bit of information will suffice.”

I met his glare with my own, before returning my focus to the ceiling, my breath coming in short bursts, anticipating the strike of the mallet on that nail . . . the burn that would follow . . .

Ramil chuckled under his breath, and the mallet struck, driving the iron spike half an inch into my arm. I arched my back at the pain and stifled a groan. The iron sent bites of fire through my skin and muscle, pulsing like a venomous heartbeat.

Ramil drew another nail from the pouch and moved up to my bicep. “Anything at all . . .” he taunted, positioning the nail and mallet to strike.

“Fuck you,” I spat.

The iron punctured deep into my muscle, and the pain ignited once more, shooting up through my shoulder. It radiated into my bones, and I jerked against the table at what felt like lightning sizzling down a wire within me. My eyes watered at the sensation.

The fucker had hit a nerve.

He reached for another nail and moved to the soft spot above my collarbone. My breath continued its short, harsh rhythm as I awaited the pain. The bite of each spike sent a shock through my body, adding to the network of agony that pulsed against my bones. With each puncture, the metal suppressed my healing ability even further.