Page 22 of Vasmora

Tears formed in my eyes as the gut-wrenching sounds that followed echoed around me. I slapped my palms to my ears, desperate to block them out. “Stop it! Stop!”

“Stop! I won’t do it! I refuse!”

The sounds bled through my hands, and I clenched my teeth against what must’ve have been Zevander’s throaty outcries from the torture he’d suffered.

“Stop it!” I screamed, a sob breaking in my chest. “Please!”

“Please!” The bird called out again. “It fucking … burns!”

Beneath the horrific cries of pain, the captain laughed. “I wish I’d have been here for all of that. Unfortunately, I was still in training during his time here. Heard he was a defiant bastard. Sounds like he brought a lot of suffering onto himself. As for giving yourself to me, I’m not demanding your body. Oh, you’re a beauty, for sure. But you’re frail and filthy. Practically vermin.”

“If there is a single ounce of goodness in you. I’m begging you. Make it stop.”

“Stop! I won’t! I refuse! It … fucking burns!” the bird taunted.

The captain squatted down in front of me, elbow resting on his bent knee. “Now, what makes you think a diseased rat like yourself deserves my good nature, hmmm?” He ran his fingers through my hair, and when I swatted at him, he chuckled, still toying with it. “I’ve never met a mortal before you. We’re told from a young age that your blood houses all variety of infection.” He leaned forward and sniffed, crinkling his nose. “Smells like it. Not even the sweet scent of oranges can mask the stench of rot. Death. Mortality.”

“Then, kill me. Be merciful and end this.”

“Allow me to tell you a story.” He released my hair and smiled. “Before I joined the Solassion army, I hunted razorwolves. Powerful, beastly creatures, mostly found in the Fyerian, though I’ve recently discovered a den not far from here.” He sat back on his heels, rubbing his hands together. “No adult male has ever successfully been captured. Many hunters have tried, of course, but once you’ve set your sights on a wolf, you’re already dead. The one you see is merely the lure.” Gaze unfocused, he seemed to lose himself in thought.

That made two of us. I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why he was telling me this. Or why he thought I’d care.

“You see,” he continued, “they hunt in packs, and they glean such sadistic joy in toying with their prey. Ripping them limb by limb. The adolescents attack first. Then the adult males. You’re alive through most of it.” Brows knitted, he stared off. “My father was, anyway. Strongest, fiercest man I ever knew. He would’ve chided me for hiding amongst the trees, the day they devoured him in front of me. ‘Find the den!’ he’d shouted to me, before one of them tore out his throat. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to hunt the males. It was the females and young pups he went after. They’re not quite as shrewd. Certainly not as vicious. Takes a skilled man to find them, seeing as their dens are often hidden deep in the woods, and those fucking males won’t let anything near it.” Shaking his head, he chuckled.

If there was one thing I’d learned from cruel men my whole life, it was that somewhere in their long-winded stories hid a vulnerability. Something that might be useful to exploit. As much as I hated hanging on his words, I listened for that tremor of weakness in them.

“Perhaps you might be wondering about the females. Well, the females are not willing to fight as fiercely as the males. Their only objective is protecting their pups. No, they’re willing to die.” Again, he lifted a lock of my hair, sifting it through his fingers. “And most will surrender themselves to the hunter in order to let their pups escape unharmed.” As if out of habit, he brushed his finger across the long scar etched into his face. “The kill doesn’t feel quite as earned. So, when I hunted them, I had a strategy. Hurt what they love first. I call it catalytic pain.” His smile stretched the scar, distorting it. “You torment their pups in front of them? Oh, they’ll fight harder than the males. Damn near rip your face off.” Again, he pawed at his scar. “That’s why I can’t kill you right away, love. I need to know your catalytic pain. I need the fight. The ungodsly will to protect. Even if the only thing you have left are ghosts.”

My body shook with rage, and I lashed out my gloved hand, just missing him when he jumped back. If only I’d been a hairsbreadth closer.

“Yes, that’s it.” His lips pulled to a menacing grin, and he gripped the chain attached to my ankle. A bolt of light flashed from his palm and shot up the chain links to my leg.

My breath hitched, leg locking up as liquid fire poured through my veins, the blistering pain lancing my muscles and bones.

The agony flared across my limbs, and my back formed an arc, shaking, arms curled against my body as a current of lightning seared me from inside. Like a lungful of broken glass, the air tore through me in jagged gasps, my heart drumming out of rhythm like it might implode. A raw and hoarse scream ripped from my throat, the pain unrelenting.

All at once, it stopped.

I turned over to my side and wheezed as if I were trying to suck air through a pinhole, my jaw still locked. The aftershock burned through my muscles, my heart hammering against my ribs as I fought to catch my breath.

The heat of Drefan’s breath fanned across my ear, but my muscles wouldn’t move to push him away. “I so wish I would’ve known this … Zevander,” he whispered. “I’m certain your love for him would’ve made you quite a vicious bitch. I suppose we’ll never know now. I’ll leave you to mourn him, then.” He pushed to his feet, and halfway to the cell door he paused mid-stride. “The general asked that you remain in solitary a week. I’ve advised another week. It seems your behavior could use a bit more refining.” He exited the cell, shutting out the light behind him, and once again, I found myself in complete darkness.

“I defy the gods! I defy them!” the bird started again. “I will not obey! I will not obey!”

“I will not beg for mercy,” I whispered.

Zevander’s words.

In spite of rigid muscles and scorching pain, I crawled over the stony floor in search of them and ran a trembling finger over the deep grooves in the stone. Zevander. His cell. I looked up into the endless darkness, knowing the manacles still dangled somewhere above me.

“I’ll never give myself to you! Never!”

Zevander’s bellows of pain, so realistic it brought tears to my eyes, left me curling into myself on the floor, hands to my ears.

Please take me away from this place. Take me away. Take me away.

“How badly do you want to escape?”