My gaze traveled up his body, unable to stop my perusal. His tunic was unlaced at the top and showed off the slight smattering of chest hair. It looked soft, matching the light brown hair atop his head. Still, my gaze rose until I saw the cocky grin on his face that ruined everything.
“See something you like?” He asked, looking down at his body. “Three hundred years of training will do this to you.” Damien cocked his head to the side, observing me with equal appreciation. I flushed under his scrutiny. “But you would know all about that, wouldn’t you? Those thick thighs and curves could kill a man, but you would have them gutted at your feet before they could whisper pleasantries in your ear.”
There was something in his tone that had me turning away to hide the effect his words had on me. Though Kalen and I had been fulfilling our needs with one another, it clearly was not enough because I was salivating over the man in front of me. I told myself it was only because he had gotten under my skin, and perhaps I missed the bit of banter I used to engage in before taking a lover.
I turned back to him and smirked. “Right. You would do well to remember that then.” I grabbed another chair and spun it around, plopping down on it. “Are you ready?”
He nodded, the corner of his lips pulling up. “As ready as one can be for a morning filled with choking on black sludge until I nearly pass out.”
I took a deep breath, double checking the notes in my journal for what I had already asked. We had started with the most basic, straightforward questions we could think of in hopes of finding an easy way out. Lachlan, however, was not easily tricked. Everything we tried had failed.
Today was no different. Each question I asked ended the same way. Damien would convulse, his eyes rolling back into his head. Black foam streamed from his lips, turning thick with prolonged exposure to the air. He fought against his bonds, his hands aching to claw at his throat and remove the obstruction, as the ropes rubbed him raw. He screamed in agony, the gurgled sounds lingering long after I’d rescinded my query.
As we neared the end, Damien finally looked at me. His blue eyes dimmed more with each word I spoke. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, and knew he would hate it, I pitied him for the situation he was put in. He was not an evil man. His only sin had been that he loved the wrong person and loved her far too much.
As I opened my mouth to ask a final question, his breathing quickened. Those blue eyes flared in fear and agony. “Don’t,” he rasped. “Pleasedon’t. I need a break.” A single tear leaked from the corner of his eye, trailing down his face. “Just a small break.”
I nodded and made my way to the desk to pour him a glass of water. He could barely lift his head as I approached. The smell of charred flesh filled the room, the acrid scent increasing as I neared him. “Open,” I commanded, gripping his chin.
He did so quickly, and I poured the water down his throat. He cursed, struggling to swallow. Finally, I looked into his mouth. Horror filled my gut at what I found.
The skin inside was burnt and charred, as if someone had poured liquid flame down his throat. I gripped his chin tighter and held it open, examining the area carefully.
“For fucks sake, Damien. Has this always happened?” He nodded, struggling to swallow the water I’d given him. It dribbled over the sides of his lips and down his neck and chest. Little flakes of ash were carried away with the stream. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” he whispered, taking a raspy breath. “We need to find Lachlan. This is the least I can do.” His eyes fluttered closed, and his head flopped to the side as he fell unconscious.
“Guards!” I yelled, slamming down on my knees to untie him. “Guards!”
They burst through the door, swords drawn before they even surveyed the scene. “What is happening?” One of them said, kneeling beside me.
“Give me your knife,” I said, holding out my hand. He did not move, staring down at my hand as I yelled again. “Give me your knife!” Slowly, he leant me a dagger from his belt to cut the binds, and we worked together to free Damien from the chair.
Damien’s body fell forward, the sentry barely catching him before he hit the ground. “We need to get him to a healer. Immediately,” I said, grabbing my satchel from the table and making it to the door.
“Captain,” one of them began, looking uncertain as I held up my hand to stop them.
“I do not give afuckwhat your opinion is. There is no discussion on the matter. I said to get this man to a healer.” The pair moved slowly, grabbing Damien beneath his arms. “Now!”
A third guard came through the door, picking up Damien’s feet. The narrow stairway was tricky, the five of us barely fitting as we traveled down and down. His skin had grown ashen and gray, and had been cold to the touch as I brushed against him.
Panic flooded my system as I berated myself for not recognizing the signs earlier. He’d always been increasingly lethargic after questioning as his body underwent extreme trauma because of the hex, but it had been nothing like this.
As we reached the main floor, we set off as quickly as we could.I pushed open the door to the healing center, looking around frantically for anyone to help. A small woman came around the corner carrying a basket of supplies. She hummed a cheerful tune until she looked up and saw the five of us panting at the entryway.
“Gods above,” she said, scurrying over. “What happened to him?” Her hand reached out to touch his pulse point, and she glanced at me quickly before turning away. “Follow me.”
We did as she asked, and she brought us into a private room. “Lay him there,” she said, pointing at the made bed near the back wall. “I’m going to fetch some warmed blankets and another pair of hands. You three can go.” She waved off the guards, who stood awkwardly after placing Damien down.
“Two of you wait outside. The other can return to the tower and ensure his room is locked up,” I directed.
I stood beside Damien, reaching down to touch him. His hand was ice cold, much more so than it was before, and I did what I seldom ever did.
I prayed.
The gods and I had never been on the best of terms. In fact, there were often times I cursed them for the things that happened in this world. How children died senselessly or women were abused with little regards to the men who committed the crime. If the gods were real, were true, how could they let the atrocities go unpunished? But this was a time I couldn’t help but drop to my knees and pray Damien lived.
I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive myself if he did not.
