Page 17 of Scars of His Wrath


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Panting, she glanced up at the sky. The sun was directly overhead, making its journey across the sky with no clouds to obstruct it. As she turned her head, she caught sight of the beast. He was still watching her from the shade of his tent where he was no doubt cool.

At once, she realized what he was doing.

Everyone escaped into their tents to avoid this heat, yet he’d secured her to a rock to endure it, like a sacrifice to the sun during the hottest peak of the day.

And he was enjoying the sight of her torture.

She tore her eyes away from him, cursing under her breath. The heat was already beating into her skin at a degree that was cruel; how hot could it get? Worry roiled in her stomach but she wouldn't allow him to think she would be this easy to break. She’d trekked across the notorious hot and dangerous plains of Eiros when she was eighteen. It’d been an incredible mental and physical challenge walking in that heat. Granted, she’d had water and supplies with her, but it was still harrowing. If that was what she had to put up with now, she’d bear it. It wouldn’t be pleasant, but she’d do it.

Carefully, she turned her body away from the beast so he couldn’t see her face and she forced her mind away from the searing heat and onto the people of the camp. These had to be his people. Some, like the ones who’d taken her to the rock, had been women, but the other workers looked like men. She couldn't tell any of their dynamics without a closer look, but none of women seemed small, as was typical for Omegas. All of the men were huge, so they could all be Alphas, though the idea of that wasn’t pleasant.

These men could be warriors—they were big enough to be—but they also looked like they’d done a lot of physical work throughout their lives. The only way to really know was to see them in battle.

Naya swallowed, her throat dry even as sweat poured down the sides of her face. Her clothes were damp from sweat, making her itchy and sticky.

She refused to look at the beast, but could feel his eyes on her.

Time wore on and breathing became more challenging with the air thick and heavy. Panic dug deep into her bones, but she forced herself to calm. In this situation panicked breathing would only worsen the suffocation. Seeing her distressed was exactly what the beast wanted. It was why he was watching her—to know her weaknesses so he could exploit them.

She kept her mouth shut, head down to protect her face from the sun, and closed her eyes, using focused thought to slow her breathing and get her mind and emotions under control, while the unrelenting sun seethed.

And then in the next moment, she was waking up, drowsy and disoriented.

The three who had dragged her out from the tent were pulling her to her feet. Naya blinked rapidly, her whole body weak and tight, like she’d shriveled into a discarded skin of her former self.

The sun was still bright and hot, but not as intense. The hottest part of the day seemed to have passed. The three women braced her between them and headed toward the nearest tent.

As soon as Naya stepped inside, the cool air embraced her, tingling on her cheeks and lips. She sucked in a breath, finally able to breathe deeply and a sigh of relief escaped her lips on her exhale.

The women carried her to the opposite wall and leaned her against it while their hands fiddled again with the fabric bands. By the time Naya realized she should watch what they were doing, the force pulled her up, locking her firmly against the wall. She was back in the same position as before.

It looked like the same tent, yet this time, it felt like a refuge. Was it cooler than before she’d gone out or was the air just cool compared to outside? The darkness, however, was now a relief.

Once she was secured, the women filed out quickly and quietly.

Naya closed her eyes, her body rapidly cooling as she tried to order her thoughts. But at the sound of muffled footsteps, she opened them again.

The beast stood in front of her, his expression thunder, as if she’d angered him by not suffering more. Naya tried to control her fury, her mouth tightening as she glared at him. If he wanted to kill her slowly, he was welcomed to try. Unless she was able to escape to warn her father, her death would most certainly secure the beast’s death too. Mama and Papa wouldn’t rest until they had revenge.

The beast seemed to sense something in her eyes. He stepped forward, meeting her fury with his own, but then stopped. Huffing out a breath, he turned but paused when he saw the long, green, spiky plant sitting in the round brace on the edge of the table.

He lifted it out. Turning to face her, he tilted his head back, lifted it over his face and tipped the round end toward him. Clear liquid poured out, splashing on his face and drenching his hair. He opened his open mouth to catch some of it, but the rest splattered on him and onto the floor.

Naya swallowed, her dry throat painful. The liquid looked as clear as water and most of it was being wasted. The beast kept tilting and more liquid poured out, like a never-ending waterfall encased in a long, knobby plant.

Naya watched with dismay, astonished at how much liquid the plant held.

Finally, it emptied and the beast turned to her, drenched and dripping. He stepped forward and sprayed a mouthful of the liquid onto her face. Instantly, a cool sensation tingled her skin and she couldn’t help but catch the droplets dripping down her lips with her tongue. It wasn’t water, but whatever it was quenched her dry mouth with its slightly sweet flavor.

She whimpered at the taste of it, but the beast made a sound at the back of his throat—rough, guttural, abrupt.

She looked up at him, and in his sinister gaze she understood everything that was to come. He was intending to break her—to force her obedience and submission until she helped him.

Naya returned his glare, silently daring him to try.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The stout, bearded man came into the tent again.

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