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Hinges creaked.
I spun around and dug my fingers into the crumbling mortar, fully expecting a punch in the face. None came.
The jailor was still busy locking the iron door from the inside when another guard lowered a wooden bucket with water to the ground between himself and Lord Brisden. The sight alone narrowed my parched throat, making me suck my tongue.
“Get rid of this corpse before the other half of the prisoners succumb to sickness.” Lord Brisden wrinkled his hooked nose at Harlen, that longer brown hair he carried slicked back, the hunting outfit he wore embroidered with green waves. Brisden colors. “They’re dying faster than we can cart them to Vhaerya. Not that any of them are likely to prove useful.” His strong gaze settled on me. “Except for our young prince here.”
A series of cramps roiled through my stomach, one for each step he took toward me. “You took me to Vhaerya twice. I cannot… cannot—” A cough scraped along my throat like sand, eyes going to that bucket. I was so thirsty. “I will not lift the shadows.”
“Yes, so you have said, but having a prince for a captive is never a bad thing, so I decided to keep you.” Arms folded behind his back, he slowly paced before me, eyeing me with an intensity that chilled the blood in my veins. “Same with that… rabid girl next to you. Her shadows are strong.” He stopped and turned to face me fully. “But not nearly as strong as yours, Malyr. Is that not so?”
I licked my cracked lower lip, my eyes on that bucket. “I will not lift them.”
“M’lord!” The figure of a guard shifted behind the tight weave of the iron door to my cell. “It is the Lady Galantia. One of the guards found her sneaking along the bailey again.”
“What is it to me?” Lord Brisden barked. “It is her mother who grows hysteric whenever that girl escapes her nursemaid. Ask my wife what she will have you do.”
“M’lord, Lady Brisden is currently… Well, with the healers.”
“She couldn’t hold on to this one more than a few weeks, could she?” Lord Brisden gave a severe shake of his head. “Lock my daughter in her room and find that darned nursemaid to make sure she stays there.” Lord Brisden pointed at me. “Strap him to the barrel and flog him.”
“No!” I shouted, pulse exploding in my ears. “No flogging. Please! No flog—augh!”
Strong sets of arms grabbed mine, flaring up the pain of old bruises, dragging me toward the barrel that stood at the center of my cell. Until, at a burst of adrenaline and panic, my shift went through me.
My form scattered into my unkindness. We flapped and screeched, scratching on the walls for hold, bending our feathers on the ungiving stone. Out! We wanted out!
“Bloody idiots,” Lord Brisden snarled. “Whack them.Whack them!”
Leather lashed down on us, ripping us to the ground. My chin hit the hard stone, making me chomp down on my gums. Iron seasoned my teeth and blood drooled from my mouth, thick and sweet and warm.
“Up you go, little bird.” The jailor gripped me by my matted hair, pulled me onto my shaky legs, and shoved my chest against the barrel. “Tie him down nice and good while I beat the wings out of him.”
Smack!
Dozens of leather strings nipped at my back, making my shoulders pull tight while chains tightened around my wrists and ankles.
Leather smacked.
Fabric ripped.
Liquid fire melted across my back, making every muscle in my body convulse until I rose onto my toes, but there was no escaping the brutal pain. It pelted down on me, repeatedly hitting the same spot until I felt my skin peel, giving way to trickles of blood that ran down my back.
“Enough.” Lord Brisden stepped in front of me and leaned over, the reflection of the torch they’d brought flickering across his hazel eyes. “There is no beating the stubbornness out of this one, as we all know.”
My eyes fell to my amulet that hung on a leather string from his neck, making me want to clench my eyes shut in shame. The white stone dangled inches from my face, worthless to anyone in this world… but worth the world to me.
It belonged to myanoaley.
My fated mate.
“What a pretty face. I daresay you are quite the handsome young man, if given a good soak and a comb.” Brisden lifted his hand to my face, making me flinch in anticipation of a whack, only for his finger to stroke a black strand behind that ear where he’d marked me with ink. “Tall. Long, black hair. A lithe, graceful figure that has not yet grown into its full width and strength. Do you not agree, lads?”
“A pretty Raven boy,” the jailor said.
The guard chuckled. “Looks like a woman from where I’m standing.”
All my senses sharpened as my heart drummed in warning, making me turn my head to escape Brisden’s strange touch. This felt wrong… Terribly wrong.
