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The different alter winks at me as if to confirm the question buzzing around my thoughts. He’s here to take the pain.
Belinda places a headset with two bulbs that rest on his temples. Meridei shoves a white rag between his teeth.
And here I am, slumped on the cold floor, hands pressed into the tile, knees going numb, and completely powerless to prevent his pain.
“Should we let Skylenna decide the voltage?” Belinda glances my way.
Meridei’s mouth curls upward. “Do you like a slow burn?” she asks me. “We could start it out mild and build that tension by only increasing it a notch at a time.”
“That’ll take forever.” Belinda huffs out a laugh. “His brain will be fried by the time we finish.”
Terror gushes over my nervous system.
I don’t dare respond to their antagonistic taunts. Anything I do will result in this alter getting it far worse than he normally would if I weren’t here. My only subtle cue that I’m writhing on the inside is my nails scraping into the unfaltering tile.
But the alter’s weighty gaze is planted on me, completely unbothered by their threats.
There is no warning before they twist the knob on the machine. The table vibrates as it comes to life, rattling other tools on its surface.
The alter’s body goes taut, back arching as much as the straps and restraints allow. Every muscle turning to a block of stone. Every vessel about to burst. And he’s holding his breath with a red face, bulging veins in his neck, and that powerful jaw clamped down on the rag.
Bile sears my esophagus as I watch in horror, feeling the sharp pang of energy coursing through his body just by looking at him. Even through the fever, the dull pounding ache, I can’t tear my eyes away from him. I forget my own exhaustion, my own suffering, my own need for a warm bed.
The machine dies, powering down, and the alter’s flexed limbs come down with it. His back relaxes, fists unclench, bare toes uncurl. And he hums, closing his eyes slowly, pleased with the result. And his lids move back and forth. Could he be replaying the pain in his head?
He chuffs out a muffled laugh.
Meridei’s spine straightens. This wasn’t at all the response she was hoping for.
“Keep it up,” she seethes. “You won’t be able to fake satisfaction when we’ve hit the last notch.”
But that’s just it. I don’t believe he’s faking anything. The alter’s eyes practically roll back in his head at the pleasure of it all.
The machine roars back on, triggering the rigid response from the alter once more. These next few rounds, his chest growls at the impact, a low groan in the base of his throat—like someone unable to hold their breath underwater any longer.
And his responses don’t change. Every time the machine silences, the alter melts back onto the table moaning in pleasure.
Meridei slams her fist down next to him, shrieking like a child throwing a tantrum.
“I wonder how fun this will be for you if I leave it on! Would you like that? To die of a heart attack? To finally keel over to a brain aneurysm?” Her breathing is ragged now, unraveling to her own sadistic frustration. “Won’t that be humiliating for you? The great and terrible Patient Thirteen extinguished by a little machine.”
It’s hard to tell, but he’s definitely smiling with his eyes closed, as if that threat excites him even more.
The box screeches as it floods a new and extreme current of electricity through the alter’s brain. And this is the top notch. It doesn’t just cause the table holding it up to tremble, no, the walls quake, the floor rumbles. And the alter is nearly levitating from the torture table.
Wait…
I gasp, looking back and forth between the women and the body of the man I care deeply for. Every drop of moisture is drained from my mouth as I gape at the scene. I can’t even swallow, but I manage to scream.
“Please,” I beg, crawling toward the vibrating table. “Please!”
And the two women are grinning at my pathetic attempt to stop them. Because it is pathetic. The tears are rolling down my face as I suck in oxygen like a dying pig. Everything hurts but watching him slowly burn from the inside out hurts more.
“Meridei,” I rasp, reaching for the tip of her black heel. “I’ll do anything.”
I’m sobbing at her ankles now, feverish, delirious, and unhinged.
“Anything?” she purrs.
