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“This creature is a traitor to The Dominion.” I explained to the giant, fiery wolf smoking before me. Frira snarled in response, lava and ember exploding from its mouth as it did so.
“It claims it is immortal. I have tried and failed to kill it. Can I entrust its death with you?” I nearly held my breath. If Frira could kill the widowmaker, that would be one massive problem solved. After a beat, Frira nodded its head, and opened its mouth wide. Taking this as an invitation, I held up the widowmaker’s head and looked it right in its hideous face. It screamed and spat, but I could barely hear it over the crack of lighting and the rumble of erupting magma.
“I want the last thing you see to be my fucking face.” I sneered at it, adjusting my grip in its filthy hair, so it would be easier to launch into the great Titan’s maw. I brought it closer to me, so I could clearly speak into its ear. “I hope you burn in hell.” I whispered.
“Mistress!” It screeched, as if she could hear its pleas. As if she cared about it at all. I smiled against it, not caring that its greasy hair was touching my skin.
I wanted it to hear me.
“I’ll be sending that bitch to meet you soon enough. Save her a seat.” Then I swung my arm back and launched it high up into the air. Frira flowed forward, snapping it up in its jaws. With a mighty swallow, the thing was finally gone. I had expected to feel better. Looking up at the giant wolf, I realized that until I had Amon back safe in my arms, there would be no feeling better.
It didn’t matter how many of them I killed.
Amon
Kieran walked into the chamber. His presence seemed to distract Ash Nevra and prompted her to remove herself from my lap, which was a welcome development.
My gaze fell to the small table of surgical instruments the dark wizard had brought with him, and my relief quickly turned to cautious surprise. I hadn’t expected them to start with something so… light. Based on her behaviour and obvious jealously of Raven, I had assumed we would be skipping straight to rape.
Although I couldn’t say I was particularly happy with the idea of Kieran cutting away pieces of me, it would be less distracting than some of the alternatives. If all we were doing was surface-level abrasions, I would be able to focus on learning more about what I could and couldn’t do while ensnared by this ridiculous bond.
“Hello, Kieran,” I greeted, allowing him to see the disdain in my regard for him.
It was a game of masks.
To survive in Ash Nevra’s court, it had always been important to know what emotions to show, and which ones to hide. Learning to control my expressions, my tone of voice, and my body language was one of the earliest and most important lessons that had been drilled into me in my youth… And I was excellent at it.
“Prince Amon,” he replied, picking up a small but sharp looking scalpel. He examined it in the dim flickering light of the dungeon. “You and I have never really had the chance to get to know each other. I must say, I am looking forward to doing so.” Kieran drawled, putting the scalpel down and exchanging it for what looked like a long, thin metal skewer.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He had always been predictable and boring. I allowed him to see my impression of his choice of instrument and the smirk dropped from his face.
“Would you like me to start with something that will leave more of a mark?” He reached back to the table, his fingers grazing over a large pair of pliers. My lip curled.
“I’m just surprised to see you turn to such human and pedestrian methods. Running low on power, Kieran? Have your gods finally forsaken you?” I prodded, all the while flexing my own power within the parameters of the bond that held me in place. My darkness churned deep inside the recesses of the magickal planes that connected to my body.
This slavery bond was the equivalent of trapping a hurricane in a bottle.
I used my power to slide up the sides of the bond, searching for a crack, a fissure, a weakness. Anything that I could use to get some kind of an advantage.
Fury tore across the dark wizard’s face, and he grabbed the pliers, taking an aggressive step toward me.
“How about I remove your tongue? We’ll see how much you have to say then.” He snapped, and Ash Nevra laughed, as if we were merely bickering children. She curled her hand over the wizard’s shoulder and pulled him back.
“None of that,” she purred into his ear, her crimson eyes boring into me over his shoulder. “I will have a need for that tongue later.” She simpered, licking her lips.
I did not allow myself to react to her. I just continued to smirk at Kieran, all the while searching internally for something I could use.
“I can make sure it grows back,” he sneered, but Ash Nevra just stroked a hand down his face gently, kissing him softly on the cheek before tutting her own tongue.
“Keep it below the neck and above the groin... for now. We have time. We don’t want to spoil our supper by rushing straight to dessert.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Outside of her own sick desire to play with me, I wasn’t sure what the motivation was to keep it light for now. I knew her. She was sick and twisted, yes. But she was also smart, and strategic. There was a reason she didn’t want to rush this. I just needed to figure out what it was.
Without warning, the door opened, and The Siren stepped into the dungeon. I couldn’t turn my head to look directly at her, but I could feel her dark eyes boring into the side of my face from where she stood in the doorway. I had a sudden flash of memory.
Her blade buried into Conrad’s neck. The look on his face as he had dropped to his knees, falling into a pool of his own blood on the floor. Though I made sure to keep my face carefully blank, I found myself wondering if the Obeah Man was dead. A stab of pain shot through my chest at the thought.
Outside of the fact that I had grown fond of Conrad myself, his death would have brought Raven to her knees. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through. And I was stuck here, with these fools who I would have torn to shreds if it weren’t for this bond that restrained me. I was unable to hold her, and be whatever she needed me to be, to help her heal from these fresh wounds. I tried to take solace in the fact that I knew we had saved Jeremy. At least she had him for support.
