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And I’d do no such thing.
“All that will make mehappyis holding my wife and children,” I snarled into his ear. “So no. This isn’t pleasurable for me. It’s…” I paused, trying to think over the sound of his screams as the wound beneath my palm mended. “It’s a bit like taking a piss when you’ve held it for too long. Not something youdesire, but if you don’t do it, you’re going to fucking explode. And then, when you finally get your chance, it still isn’t pleasure, but it isfucking relieving.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
NIX
We got them all.
Not only Michael, but Gabriel, Selaphiel, Uriel, Jegudiel, and Barachiel as well.
We got each and every one of them into the prison.
I did to each of them what I’d done to Michael. Gabriel put up a damn fight when I shoved the Elvan ore into his back, but once it was in there, he rolled and writhed in misery for hours. So did the others.
And it felt as I’d told Michael it would. Like taking a piss after holding it for too long.
No, I didn’t enjoy it. But fucking stars, the relief it was.
They were here, and I didn’t care what I had to do. I’d find out where they’d put my wife and children.
Where we’d failed, however, was the egress. Yes, we’d shut it as soon as they’d come through. But since there were six of them, and a small army, it was open a bit too long. That made opening it again rather simple.
It took my nephews’ guards about a month to reopen it and commence their rescue mission. They failed.
The prison truly was impenetrable. There were four people capable of entering and exiting. Me, Alastair, Heylel, and Queen Iliantha.
Heylel hadn’t walked inside once. The screams he heard from the outside were hard enough for him to stomach.
Alastair wasn’t so gentle-hearted. He assisted in the tortures. So did Queen Iliantha. Dem couldn’t bring himself to do it. The man was no stranger to torment, but his daughter raised two of the boys I was torturing. He’d bounced them on his knee as children.
So had I.
And I didn’t care.
There wasn’t a drop of love in me for these boys anymore. That was how I managed to flay the skin from their bones and watch it grow back, only to do it again. That was how I stomached slicing them open, pulling their organs out, and smashing them to mush in my palms, all while I forced them to watch. That was how I dealt with whipping them, and stabbing them, and ripping their limbs off, only to watch them grow back.
I was the leader of Matriaza’s army before I was King. I’d needed to make examples of men. I’d needed to scare the masses with my brutality.
These things were not new to me. They were cruel. They were disgusting. But I didn’t hate myself for it.
All I hated myself for was failing to protect my family.
I’d ventured into other forms of torture when the physical didn’t work. Psychological warfare seemed to scare them more, but it didn’t make them talk.
I’d tried searching their minds for information on what had happened that day, where they’d taken my wife’s and children’s souls. But it was like I hit a wall.
Without Véa’s telepathic ability, I wasn’t very good at dissecting a mind.
I brought Dem in to do that part.
I hadn’t cleaned the boys up first.
That day, I’d used scorpions. The details were irrelevant, but the look Dem gave me, seeing my nephews naked, swollen, covered in bites and slashes, almost impossible to discern where they were beneath it all, was the first time I felt guilt since it began.
Dem looked at me with wide eyes, grasped his chest, and said, “What’ve ye become, Nix?”
I didn’t respond.
