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“I have to say, pretty Raven boy, I am growing rather impatient with this nasty… shadow business around those cursed lands of yours,” Brisden said. “I need them gone. Now. And you, Malyr, will do it.”
My parched, dry lips trembled more than they should have. “I will not remove them.”
Brisden straightened, walked to the wall across, and leaned his back against it. “He reeks like shit and death. Get that stench off him.”
One second the rope on the bucket squeaked tight, the next, a splash hit my flogged back, burning, searing, stabbing into my spine, and ripping a scream from me.
Because it was not water, but vinegar.
Sharp, biting vinegar, sending the fire of five hells across my back. Its acidic odor crept into my nostril, bringing with it the memory of grunts, curses, scream. No. No, no, no…
I bucked against the barrel, fighting the constraints of the chains. “No!”
Brisden once more came closer, whispering by my ear, “I will break you, Malyr. And youwillgive me Valtaris.”
When someone yanked my trousers down, I fought in earnest, kicking, screaming, cursing. Another splash of vinegar hit my buttocks, only to burn its way down along my scrotum and penis.
Big, rough hands gripped my hips. A foot kicked my legs apart, letting chains rattle and clank. Cotton wiped over my asshole.
The barrel tipped slightly beneath me as the first stab violated me, burning and ripping, letting a shout tear from my lungs and urine trickle down my inner thigh. He forced himself deeper until his skin slapped against mine, hurting me, grunting in pleasure while I whimpered in pain.
“Do you want to know what is worse than being forced to endure the most depraved acts?” Brisden looked down at where I’d wet myself, grinning. “Liking them.”
And I knew then that it wasn’t urine the man forced from me one thrust after another. He cut through my body, past my decaying mind, and straight into my soul. And I felt it crack. Sensed it shatter into a million pieces, filthy and corrupted, never to be whole again.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Galantia
Present day, Deepmarsh Castle
Things were finally looking up.
Captain Theolif had returned to Tidestone to relay the news of my upcoming wedding to my parents. My success in securing my betrothal had manifested immediately, taking shape as richly furnished, opulent personal chambers, meals served on gold platters, and at least a dozen people fussing over me in preparation of the wedding.
Like Darien, the court’s dressmaker, who ran his splayed fingers along my body without touching, letting threads of shadows thinner than hair weave, loop, and entwine. They formed the sheerest black cloth, which wrapped around my arms and torso like a second skin before it generously fanned out below my waist, yet it managed to cover nothing at all.
I stared down at the contrasting paleness of my skin that shone through the fabric, amplified by the morning sun coming from the window of my sitting room that overlooked a lovely garden with a pond. “I can only assume Prince Malyr is planning to have me freeze to death in this.”
Arms crossed in front of his chest, Sebian took a few assessing strides around me where I stood in the center of the room, grinned at the sight of my nipples, and gave me a wink. “I like it. Your beauty is shining through… quite literally.”
My cheeks warmed, reminding me of how good he’d felt inside me. How gentle and patient he’d been. How he’dmade loveto me…
… in front of my betrothed.
And at my betrothed’s request, just to add to my confusion. The most baffling part about all this? Giving me to Sebian that night, allowing me to succumb to his tenderness, had probably been the kindest thing Malyr had ever done to me…
“No imagination, this human.” Darien gave a graceful swat of his hand, his black strands an intricate weave of at least a dozen smaller braids, as extravagant as the black trumpet gown he wore. “But one with a lovely waist.”
I cringed, internally mumbling a prayer. Oh please, let me hold on to that waist a while longer. Sleeping with my betrothed’s best friend was strange enough, but potentially having his child in my belly? As things stood, I could hardly claim it to be Malyr’s, potentially leaving me at the doorstep of ruin once more. With a child. From a knave with a certain… reputation.
I resisted the urge to tug on the fabric around my belly to make it less tight. No, I hadn’t yet been in my fertile days that night. Risa had taught me to count based on my menses, so I may put it to good use once I was expected to do my duty and produce an heir. Gods damn this mess. I had to get Malyr to give me his child.
Darien ran a finger down along my waist. “I suggest we bring it out and go with vines.”
At the flick of his pointer, shadows built onto the sheer cloth in the shape of thorny vines. They curved inward along the natural dip of my waist, making it look more defined, even from my perspective. An optical illusion, which formed a thicket up along my torso before it burst into lacy blooms on each side of my scar, covering my breasts.
“Hmm, what to do with this train?” Darien rubbed a hand over his smooth chin as he walked around me, assessing his creation with a critical look. “Fuller. Yes, that’s what we need, but how to—ah!” He snapped his fingers at Sebian. “My pouch. Over there by the window. Quick.”
