“I’m going to need their descriptions later.”
“So you can kill them?”
“Or worse,” I snarled.
She let out a small, bitter laugh and snuggled closer. “Grimm wasn’t there, and I figured it was a sick kink—that I could suffer through it.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I told myself we could run away. He hails from the Great Iceland. We could return to his homeland.”
“My beach-loving, Lothar-worshipping, Lyana? In a cold, dark wasteland?!” I snickered.
“Love makes you do stupid things.”
I cut my laugh short, pressing my lips together, regretting my mirth.
“He… I… he took me to the bed, and started… you know–”
I stayed quiet, unsure if I wanted the details, but if talking helped her through this, I’d listen a thousand times over.
“Then he called him in,” she whispered.
“Grimm?”
There was another pause. “Yes,” she choked.
I clenched my eyes shut against my pain for her. Had this been reversed and involved Sainte instead, I would have died.
“The look he gave me when he saw… he would have killed him, El.”
And all of us would have been better for it.
“I had to lie to him.” She sniffed as more tears came, but she was so exhausted she had no more energy left to sob. “I told him I wanted it… and he… your…”
“The pig”, I provided again.
“Yeah, well, he… it was like he fed on it. He made him watch.”
I gripped her tighter, disgusted by the one living person who shared my blood. What demented man would do that? What purpose did it serve? To make Grimm a mindless monster? To hurt me, influence my choice to challenge him? If anything, it fueled my rage. It made this fight my choice,not an obligation.
This mistake would cost him dearly.
“Grimm thinks I wanted this,” she whispered, voice trembling.
“Those marks… the abuse… no man would believe you chose that. He had to realize there was some other reason.”
“Your—the pig—is sharp with words. He twists them, makes awful things sound good. It really seemed as if he’d release him. He told me he never bedded a Muik—it was so simple. Who knows what lies he’s been spewing to Grimm? He hates me.”
“No, Lyana. He loves you. He would’ve taken on everyone in that room. It must be tearing him apart that he wasn’t able to save you.”
“I made everything worse.”
I cringed, grateful my face was out of her line of sight.
“It’s fine, El,” she said. “I did. Don’t lie to me.”
“To be honest, things couldn’t have gotten worse. We’re stuck in this mess.”
“I just wish he knew.”
“We will send word,” I assured her. It was the least we could do.
