Page 709 of Coal Hearts

A ripple of whispers worked around the cave.

“You’re...” Henri flinched; a tear ran horribly down his cheek. “Y-You’re jealous.”

Victor stiffened but didn’t deny it.

Henri laughed painfully. “That’s why you despise Ily...so much. Why you...tried to convince me to choose you...over her.” He shook his head, his entire body shaking. “It makes sense now.”

“What makes sense?” Victor sniffed.

“Why you haven’t killed me.” Henri chuckled with a wince. “I’ve given you multiple reasons to do it. But even now...you hesitate.” He looked Victor up and down with a sneer. “You kept me alive because you want something...you can’t—” He groaned and almost passed out again. “—have.”

Peter gasped on the ground by my feet, no doubt remembering the many times he’d been forced to service Victor. How many times he’d given the Master of this hellish island a blowjob and other nonconsensual pleasure.

I didn’t know if Victor was straight or gay or bi.

I didn’t know if it mattered because he didn’t get off on sex—he got off on the power of owning someone’s life.

Gender didn’t matter.

Their soul did.

And there he was...stealing Henri’s right in front of me.

“Stop it,” I snarled. “Leave him alone.”

“Ily.” Henri shook his head, almost falling off the altar for the tenth time. “Don’t.”

Victor snickered but didn’t look at me, keeping his stare pinned on Henri. “You say I want something I can’t have.”

Masters shifted and guards flicked each other a wary glance as Victor grabbed Henri’s knees and spread his bloody legs. Stepping into them, he nuzzled against Henri’s sweaty neck. “What makes you think I can’t have you?”

Henri recoiled.

Shoving Victor off him, he fell sideways and tumbled off the altar. He landed with a heavy thud, his skull cracking against the stone.

“Idiot.” Victor rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers at the guards. “Put him back please. This time on his back.”

“No, don’t—” I dashed forward. Larry dragged me back with my hair.

The pain couldn’t compete with my other beatings. I fought. I scratched. But it was Peter who touched my ankle and said, “Not yet, jaanu. Not yet.”

I didn’t know what that meant.

Don’t fight yet.

Don’t crack yet.

Don’t die yet.

All of that was impossible when watching the love of my life be tortured.

“Peter, I—”

“I know.” He nodded, his teary cheeks and earnest yearning made all my fight fizzle. “But not yet. Don’t give up...not yet.”

I wanted to drop to my knees and sob.

I wanted to run and never stop.