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Chapter Fourteen
Idris
Istruggle and lunge in my chains as I roar, trying to get to her as he chokes her. When I see one of her hands slowly rise, I still, staring in confusion. He doesn’t notice, he’s too busy laughing as he watches the light leave her eyes.
Even as she dies, she fights. My heart slams as I watch.
Her eyes dart to me for a second before they lock back on the man above her, and with more strength than I thought she had left, she stabs him with something too quickly for me to catch. He screams and falls back with a piece of metal sticking from his eyeball. Blood pours down his face as he howls.
She coughs and sucks in air but doesn’t wait. Stumbling to her feet, she jumps at him and knocks him to the floor. He tries to slap her away, but he’s weak from shock. She grabs the metal and stabs his face and chest repeatedly, screaming. Her body is covered in wounds and blood, hers and his as it flies through the air. She stabs over and over until she can’t anymore.
She slumps slightly, breathing heavily as the man screams and bucks beneath her.
“You like blood, asshole? Choke on yours,” she snarls, and then with one more downward stroke, she impales the metal into his neck.
Deep.
Blood instantly sprays and pumps around it, and just like she said, he starts to choke. Eyes wide, he slaps at it with his hands, trying to cover it as it bubbles on his lips. He sputters, blood spotting his face and hers. She observes, her hips moving softly at first before she speeds up.
She’s rubbing herself against him as she watches him die.
When he stops moving or making a noise, and his hands drop to the sides, she falls backwards. She lies on her back with a smile on her lips while her eyes lock on the ceiling, her body pale.
I’ve seen glimpses of her through the hole, but seeing her in her full glory, in her beauty, pain, and rage… my cock hardens. She’s incredible. She has long black hair that’s jagged on one side, cut shorter like a diagonal line, giving her a dangerous look. Her dark, deep eyes have amber flecks, and they spit fire at everyone she looks at. She is tall, and I can tell she used to be curvy, with big, wide hips and thick thighs with long lean legs. She has large perky breasts and an ass for days with adorable dimples and tiger stripes across it. Her pale skin is coated in blood, and her face is stunning, with arched eyebrows, plush bloody lips, and a long regal nose.
She’s beautiful, even more so covered in scars and blood. She looks like a fighter, like what I imagined Amazon warriors looked like—fierce and unafraid. Each scar only adds to her appeal, and I run my tongue along my teeth as I trace my eyes over her nude body, aching to feel every dip and raised line.
Desire.
It’s been a long time since I’ve felt lust for anything other than death. Women just didn’t put up a good enough fight to distract me from my own brain, so I gave up. But this creature, fuck. My cock is throbbing, leaking. I can feel it, despite the situation we are in… or maybe in reaction to it. Her chest heaves, her perky rose coloured nipples are pebbled, and her belly is quivering, though it’s covered in blood with a fresh carving that has anger flowing through me at someone marking her up like this.
They called her a dog, but didn’t they see this magnificent creature is no fucking animal? She’s indescribable. My hands ache to grip her, hold her, as I shove into that cunt I can almost smell. To feel her beneath me or above me. For her to ride me. To feel her heat, her blood, and the throb of her racing pulse as I hold her life in my hands.
I’d probably kill her, but wouldn’t it be fucking wonderful?
She’s just lying there, and I run my gaze over her thighs, her tits, and her face. We need to get out of here. She wants freedom? She wants to kill them? So do I. Maybe I’ll let her tag along for entertainment, to see that again, and then I’ll fuck her over their corpses and leave her there.
“Finished?” I ask, and she rolls her head to look at me and grins.
“Who’s weak now, bitch?” She grins and then starts to sit up, but she winces and looks down. She freezes then. Is it the first time she’s seen it? That strong, slightly crazy woman fades, and in her place is a hurt, wounded animal.
She snaps.
I frown as she gets up and leaps at the dead man, hitting and kicking him. Sighing, I look around before addressing her. “Bring me his keys,” I demand, but she ignores me, screaming like she’s feral, even as she rips her cuts and causes more blood to pour down her frame. “Stop,” I snarl, my voice loud and severe. She does after a few more blows and then lifts her head, her hair blocking her face as she peers at me. “Get over here now,” I order, my eyes narrowed.
She throws her hair back and stands on wobbly feet before moving over to me. She stops in front of me and meets my eyes, and in hers, I see fear and hatred, and then she looks down at her stomach again.
“He carved his name into me,” she whispers brokenly. I hate it.
“Where the fuck is that strong bitch?” I snap. “So fucking what? Don’t you stand there fucking crying, that’s weak girl shit. You want out? You want revenge? Get the fucking keys.”
Her head snaps up, and she lunges at me, punching me over and over, but I just take it. Her hits are strong but not strong enough. When she steps back, panting, I raise my eyebrows. “You’ll pay for that, little one. Now get the keys before I rip these chains free, wrap them around your neck, and strangle the life out of you for wasting time.”
She looks back down at her stomach, not hearing me. I snarl, losing my temper. We don’t have time for this. It’s clear the rough, crudely carved name on her stomach is throwing her though. She’s lost in her mind, in her pain. This one last act of defiance is fading from her. Maybe she isn’t as strong as I thought.
“Stupid bitch,” I mutter.
She screams at me before turning and grabbing the keys. Ignoring me, she gets on her tiptoes and reaches for one of the cuffs, grunting when the movement pulls on her still bleeding belly, and frees one hand before tossing the keys at me. I catch them, rotating my wirst to restore blood flow. Eyes on her, I undo the other cuff and step forward. I do some stretching to restore blood circulation before I stare at her once more.
“We need to do something about that, or you will be useless to me.” I nod at her stomach. “You choose. Either I burn it or change it.”
“What?” She steps back, retreating. I follow, cornering her against the wall, and then I place my arm above her head as I glare down at her.
“It’s stopping you. I need it to fuel you. If you can’t look at it or are going to break when you think about it, we need to change it before we move on. You want revenge?” I ask, and she nods, her mouth thinning in anger. I lean down and rub my thumb across her tempting bloody lips. “Then stop being a weak, broken victim. Be that bitch who defied them, who faced me down and didn’t even blink, or I’ll leave you here with them to rot like the weak dog they think you are.”
I step back. It’s her choice. I don’t know why I’m offering her one, I should leave her.
But she interests me, plus she may come in handy.
“What’s your choice?” I demand.
