Page 3 of Taming Winter

Present Day

THANE

My eyes drifted closed as the bullet buried into my skull, and the world went black. Hades’s torture method of choice was forcing me to endure all the fucked-up ways I had murdered my victims in my life. If they had fought, I was forced to fight. If I had tortured them, so I was tortured. My fury gave me an hour of reprieve a day, during which time Hades would visit me, but this was a quiet second.

A scorned husband had paid me to kill his cheating wife and illegitimate daughter. I didn't refuse. Money was money, and if I hadn't taken the job, there were dozens of assassins waiting to take my place. Yet, when I had snuck into their house in the darkness of night, I couldn't bear to make the girl suffer. She was an innocent in a corrupt world of violence and greed. All my victims had hands stained with their sins, but hers weren't. So, I took her out as painlessly as possible while she slept.

Perhaps it wasn't kind, but it was kind to me. Olympiara was a cesspool of evil. To be taken out as a child, when the world still held some light in her eyes and before Elysium was out of reach, was a kindness I wish I had been afforded as a child. Maybe I wouldn't have ended up in the pits of Tartarus in Hades’s personal torture chambers.

My eyes blinked open as my soul returned for the millionth time. I gazed up at my fury and waited for what the next round would bring me. There was a moment between her shifting masks where her true form appeared. Dark serpentine scales covered her flesh and led to leathery wings. Yellow eyes stained with black tar-like tears stared at me with crazed satisfaction. The monster found life and energy from my suffering. That form was gone in a blink though, leaving my own hateful face staring back at me. Already her clothes were morphing into the outfit I had worn during my next murder, and a narrow blade appeared in her fingertips. I grimaced, and despite my best attempts to remain stoic, my body recoiled. I knew exactly what killing was coming.

Though she wore my face, the fury's voice was distinctly her own. It raked across my eardrums like talons. "Oh, I do love that stench of fear."

"You’re smelling yourself," I retorted, but the response was halfhearted and strained.

Not that I regretted what I had done. The man had stolen from my cabal, then went to the police to save his own hide. Fucking idiot, he should have known better. There was nowhere on this accursed Earth I wouldn't have gotten to him. But what I had done to him… the grimy claws of terror shredded my insides. My personal brand of torture that had eaten at my soul, leaving nothing but this husk behind.

The rough scratch of fibers dug into my exposed skin. I didn't need to look to know there was rope binding me in place. Then the fury moved, my hateful face masking her own. She kneeled beside me and grabbed my calf, tearing my leg toward her until I fell on my side. Then that blade was sawing through my first toe. The knife was dull and too flimsy to effectively cut through bone, so she took her time sawing through flesh and sinew, hacking her way through.

I gritted my teeth through the first hallux and index toe. But by the middle, my agonized screams filled the cavern. It was agony incarnate, a sharp bolt that vibrated through my soul. An eternity passed as she cut off each of my digits, ending with my exposed cock. I was grateful that lightheadedness spread through my mind before the next part.

Dirty paws wriggled between my lips, and I was too weak to fight her advances. The sting of jagged nails cut through the soft flesh of my gums, then she was wrenching my mouth open.

There are no words to explain the agony of one's jaw being broken at the hinges. It was hellfire that lanced through my entire body, making my blood boil and freeze at the same time. The loud crack echoed against the roughly hewn walls. My screams turned into incoherent squawks of torment, my soul choking on this unimaginable torture. She gripped my now vulnerable tongue, and the serrated edge of her dagger hacked away at the underside. Once it was detached, she shoved it down my throat. The room fell silent.

CHAPTER 4

THANE

I woke in a pool of my blood, surrounded by my discarded appendages. I coughed at the phantom sensation of tongue in my throat, but it had returned to its proper place in my mouth. My fingers had returned with no residual marks from my torment. My toes helped me push off the floor. The only thing still injured was my tattered mind and shredded soul, and I wasn't sure I could ever repair the damage.

"Oh handsome, you look dreadful," a sultry voice chuckled.

A groan tore from my battered chest. It was particularly cruel when Hades visited after the dismemberment. She knew I was at my weakest, which was exactly why she was here. As she had been every day for what felt like an eternity. I didn't bother with grace while fumbling to my feet, my hands and toes slipping through the bloodied mess surrounding me. I stumbled to face her, rage and hatred boiling up my throat.

"Fuck you, you ugly hag," I gasped. I wiped the partially dried blood from my mouth and flicked it at her, though it dissipated before touching her flawless skin.

She smirked. "Now, now, is that any way to speak to me? It's our hundredth anniversary, you know."

My eyes widened, and I stumbled over to the wall without responding to her. I had left scratches that now covered the soft clay, one marking each of Hades’s visits. They covered the entire surface, far too many for me to count anymore. Were there really one hundred years' worth? I crumpled to my knees, desolation consuming whatever was left of me.

The first time Hades had come to my cell with her offer, I had spat in her face and told her to kiss my ass. Surely, I could outlast her. Someone had paid me to kill her, and eventually another would be successful in the venture. Yet here she was, another century under her belt, and she didn't look a day over thirty.

My eternity was beginning to feel very daunting. I would be her plaything to torment forever. My soul would take it, too. Over and over, morphing into a heap of shredded scraps if she wished it.

A hand clutched my shoulder. "Why don't we consummate such a special occasion? Just say the word."

I meant to turn and launch myself at her. It did no good—a soul couldn't hurt Hades—but it sure made me feel better. Yet, my limbs refused to move. I continued to gaze blankly at the room that had held me for far longer than I had lived. Her laugh returned, crawling over my skin like spiders. "Did I finally break you? I'll admit you were a glorious stallion, handsome, but it was only a matter of time before you were brought to heel."

"Fuck you," I murmured, but the words lacked their normal bite. I couldn't believe I was actually considering accepting her. Perhaps I truly was broken.

She fisted my hair to painfully yank my head back, forcing my gaze to hers from my place at her feet. Emerald viper’s eyes gazed down at me, and a feral grin warped her features. "You wish you could earn the pleasure."

Then she let me go, nearly sending me into the dirt. "Let's skip the foreplay, Thane. Are you finally ready to end this?"

"I'm fucking pathetic," I murmured to myself. My fingertips dug into the wall, and I hid my face between my arms. A better man would've held out for an eternity. Any shred of pride that remained demanded that I tell her to kick rocks, yet the thought of seeing the fury—of being torn to pieces—made it hard to breathe. I was done.

I couldn't do another hundred years.