The way Raefe’s lip curled up at the mention of Tartanis only confirmed as much.
“Get her to show us her wings, Raefe,” rasped the man pinning Elyria’s wrists. She suppressed a shudder, jerking against his hold. The grip on her limbs only tightened.
Raefe traced a finger around her ankle in slow, deliberate circles. “Ah, yes. Won’t you bring your wings out to play? Perhaps if you put on a good show, we’ll let you go.”
Even if his lecherous gaze hadn’t been raking over her body as he said the words, there wasn’t a chance in the four hells Elyria believed him. He’d already told her they came here for her. They weren’t leaving without her. But even if he was telling the truth, there was still no stars-damned way she was unveiling her wings. Not a fucking chance she would reveal the most vulnerable part of herself to these scoundrels.
“Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine,” she spat.
“That can be arranged,” Raefe said, and Elyria had to swallow to keep the evening’s libations from making a violent return up her throat.
Her pulse quickened, that feeling of discomfort—ofwarning—stirring in her gut once more.
“Fine,” she said quickly. “I’ll sing for you—and I’ll do it happily, too.” Raefe arched his brow. She smiled sweetly. “When your body is cold in the ground, and I’m dancing atop your grave. In fact, I’ll put on a whole celestial-blessed concert, motherfucker.”
Raefe made a tutting sound before widening his grin. The blood froze in Elyria’s veins. “Oh, I think we’ll be making sweet music together long before then.”
2
BRUTES, BEASTS, & VERMIN
ELYRIA
Raefe draggedthe finger that had been circling her ankle up the outside of her leg, following the seam of her pants. Elyria drew a sharp breath when he reached her thigh, her heart pounding in her chest. His hand snaked slowly over her leather breeches in a checkerboard pattern—back and forth, up and down—like he was trying to memorize the shape of her.
Revulsion coursed through her veins, hot and fierce. She refused to let it show on her face, though she couldn’t help writhing as he neared her inner thigh. She was bracing herself for his touch to go further—to go too far—when he stopped. With a wicked grin, he moved to the other side of the table and repeated the same thing on her other leg.
It took a moment for Elyria to calm her thunderingheart enough to realize that something wasn’t right. To realize that the path Raefe traced up her body prickled—that itburned. Her skin was on fire, the leather of her breeches scorching.
Her first thought was that his touch was justthatrepulsive, but it soon became all too clear that the sensation was not in her head.
Her skinwasburning.
Raefe was a flamecaller, and he was branding her through her clothing.
The guffaws of the men pinning her down were a horrific chorus in Elyria’s ears as pain finally dawned on her face. Sweat beaded on her brow and she thought she might crack a tooth from how tightly she clenched her jaw. But she would not scream, even as she thrashed against the table.
The slightest breeze wafted over her legs as she did, a cruel respite for her scalded flesh that didn’t last nearly long enough. It was quickly overshadowed by a dark understanding of exactly what Raefe was doing as his white-hot touch seared through her breeches, leaving them in tatters.
He was stripping her bare, inch by excruciating inch.
If nearly suffocating before hadn’t sobered her up, the scorched path Raefe was carving into her skin certainly did the trick.
The stench of charred leather and burnt flesh wafted into her nose. Elyria nearly vomited. She cursed her traitorous body when tears slipped from her eyes, dripping into her ears. Still Elyria refused to give Raefe or his lackeys the satisfaction of hearing a single whimper.
She could take it.
She’d survived worse.
But it hurt. The pain was overwhelming. And while Elyria had no doubt she could survive the torment, she could also feel...it. Stirring, awakening, deep inside her. That inner darkness that she spent so much of her energy, so much effort to keep contained.
Admittedly, at this moment Elyria didn’t mind the thought of Raefe getting a taste of that darkness. He had, after all, sought her out for it.“This is the might of the Revenant?”he’d complained. If he only knew what he was asking for.
What Elyria knew was that however satisfying it might feel to letthe darkness out to take care of Raefe and his men...it would still not be worth the cost.
This needed to stop. Now.
Elyria wrenched her neck, looking around her in a desperate bid to see if there was anyone—anything—left in the tavern that might help her. Any potential ally. Any possible distraction.
