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Warrose tries to look at us through swollen lids and blood trickling down his forehead. Sweat glistens on his bronze skin, making his chest appear oily. A few soldiers hold his chains in four different directions like a leash for a rabid dog. I can imagine he wasn’t easy for them to restrain.
“Warrose,” Dessin grumbles.
“Hey, buddy,” Warrose rasps, attempting to smile.
Someone quickly hands Kaspias a thick, rusty knife. His fingers curl around the cold metal, greeting it like an old friend.
“But you know what? Torturing you would only trigger an alter to come forward that could handle it. Right? If I’m not mistaken, you had to watch your mother die, didn’t you?” His tone is vicious and taunting. The mention of Kane’s mother gets a violent reaction out of Dessin. He jerks forward in the chains that have recently been attached to his iron collar.
“That’s what I thought. The only way to really punish you would be to kill your oldest friend.” Kaspias shrugs with a casual smile, pulling Warrose’s hair back to expose his throat.
“No!” Dessin roars.
No words come from my lips. Only a garbled scream.
“Will the image of his blood streaming from his throat haunt you for life? Will the sound of his choking give you nightmares?” He’s enjoying this. The grin, the twitchy fingers, the daring gleam in his eyes. It’s as evil as they come.
Panic floods my mind as I try to reach for the void. But my brain is throbbing, searing with bursts of pain that seem impossible to overcome. The concussion and the distortive piece in my ear. It’s blending together, dragging me further and further away from the void.
“Don’t hurt him,” Dessin grunts against the choking collar. “Please.”
There is real fear warping his gaze. A look people don’t often get to see.
“He just said please,” Kaspias says to me with a small laugh, as if we’d both enjoy an inside joke.
“Kaspias.” Dessin’s eyes are wide and alert. “Don’t do this to your brother.”
Tears pool in my eyes. I study Kaspias’s thoughtful expression, searching for any form of humanity left inside of him. Please, Kaspias. Please, show me a heart.
“I’ll take Dessin’s punishment.” A soft voice travels to us from behind the unit of soldiers. The tone as delicate and smooth as a falling rose petal. They part evenly, allowing her to reveal herself.
I choke on a breath as Ruth steps into the light of the flaming torch.
35. “Where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God.”
Skylenna
Kaspias chuckles. “That’s adorable.”
“No, really. I’ll accept his punishment,” Ruth says loud enough for everyone to hear.
Every emotion flashes behind my eyes. Shock, desperation, sadness, indignation, rage.
Kaspias’s dark chocolate gaze flicks between Dessin and me. As if he’s waiting for us to fight for her, beg her to stand down. Neither of us declines her offer. Neither of us has the words to interject at all. How are we supposed to feel about this? Does she think this sacrifice will make up for the betrayal? A part of me that still loves Ruth wants to scream at her to get out of here. That she doesn’t know what she’s offering.
The other part of me wants this bitch to burn.
Still, no words escape me.
All I can do is stare.
“You realize the punishment for a volunteer won’t be death, but it might as well be, yes?” Kaspias asks, staring down at her skeptically.
Ruth sighs, keeping her eyes firmly locked with mine as she nods.
Kaspias watches her as he settles into his thoughts, working something out. An emotion flashes across his features, quick as a blink of an eye, and it’s gone. He smirks, raising his eyebrows at me.
“No objections?”
