Page 64

‘I can…’ Her ears buzzed, ringing at the sudden punch the Soldazt struck against her left ear. ‘Take it.’

‘I c-can…’ Wheezing and coughing, Areanel scratched and grabbed at the bear-like paws that had wrapped around her throat. ‘T-take it.’

Her breaths struggled to come as her lungs rattled. It felt like pins had been shoved down her throat as she spluttered. Her entire body ached and groaned in protest as she pushed herself off the floor again.

‘I-I…’ She was slurring her words. ‘…Can—’ Her vision doubled until she was looking at ten Soldazt and not the original five. ‘T-take—’ Her words stuttered as she stumbled and fell, losing her footing. Gritting her teeth, she poured every ounce of determination she had left into getting off the damned floor. ‘Take.’ She spoke through clenched teeth. She no longer knew whether she was speaking to benefit the others or herself. ‘It.’

Areanel refused to look at her brothers. She did not want them to help her—knew they couldn’t. Not with the threat of the Soldazt’s blade held at Sevain’s throat. It would just make everything much worse. Areanel was used to the punishments—she had received much worse. She could handle a few hits here and there. She would heal.

‘Ada, please!’

Percival’s protest had Areanel widening her stance. What was he doing? If he interfered now, the pain would be much worse!

Facing the Soldazt once more, Areanel prepared for another assault. ‘I. Can. Take. It!’ The words came out stunted, inflicting pain with every inhale, but she needed her brothers to know she could handle this.

‘Argh!’ Areanel’s sudden shout tore through her throat when the Soldazt dislocated her shoulder.

The force was harder than the rest because of Percival’s interjection. For every sound her brothers made in protest, the hits would carry more force. For every movement they made to help, the more bones that would snap and break. So, why was Percival making this more difficult? All he needed to do was stand and watch. And if he couldn’t, he should have shut his eyes!

Tears welled in her bruised eyes, and the one swollen shut left her with only part of her vision, and the pain that tore through her shoulder wasn’t helping to keep the tears at bay.

She didn’t know when it had happened, but her mind started to dissociate—her brain’s way of trying to save her from any more trauma. It was something she had learnt when she was in The Pit—the only thing she was grateful for down there, as it had kept her from remembering the awful things she had been through.

As the hits kept coming and the Soldazt pummelled into her, Areanel could no longer feel the fiery pain that laced her body and enwrapped her soul. It was nothing but a distant whisper, happening to someone other than herself, because Areanel was no longer in the throne room. The muffled groans and shouts left her mouth on instinct, but Areanel no longer felt her bloodied, battered and bruised body. She could no longer feel her bones snapping and teeth grinding together as the numbing sensation enveloped her mind like a safety blanket.

‘Do not kill her.’

Areanel distantly heard her father’s command, but the sound was muffled—like cotton had been stuffed in her ears.

Don’t kill her. Areanel could have laughed at the directive. At least her father still had use for her.

‘She seems to have had enough.’ She heard him contemplate. ‘Let’s hope she learned her lesson, and her place!’

Because that’s what the punishment was about: Areanel learning her place.

‘You are not to help her. That is an order!’

Slowly, she was starting to return to herself. She could see the way her father’s mouth moved as he looked to the side, no doubt addressing her brothers, but when the sound reached her ears, it was out of time with the way his lips moved. Was she delirious? What had happened? Why had the hits suddenly stopped?

An electric current shocked her body, giving her an involuntary jolt.

The cool tile against her cheek was a soothing contrast to the fire. How long had she been lying on the floor? There was no sense of time when she was trapped in her mind.

She hadn’t retreated inwards for a while now and wondered if anyone had noticed.

‘Selyë, get up,’ Aerileas commanded. Was that concern lacing his tone?

Areanel wanted to tell him to fuck right off. This was his fault, after all. He’d ordered her to be beaten to a bloody pulp. What right did he have to be concerned?

But the pain was too much. Her chest strained, causing sharp, shooting jolts every time it pushed against her ribcage. Lungs rattling and gasping for breath, Areanel could only manage a wheezed cough in reply.

‘Selyë, get. Off. The. Floor,’ her father repeated, this time more sternly.

The tone he used had her rolling onto her side and lifting herself, propping up on an elbow to take the weight off her dislocated shoulder. Her whole body shook and protested as she moved to curl her legs under her.

Gasping, Areanel heaved in a gulp of breath before shoving herself up and off the floor in one motion.

Too quick!