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Chapter 3
Raven
“Open your eyes, for me, pet.”
The whispered words floated across my temple, passing through a stranger’s lips.
Lately I fought the waking hours, clinging to slumber, clinging to that place I went where there wasn’t any pain. I was too vulnerable, tied facedown to the table where Sersha had ordered Dolan to leave me.
Alarm spiked my blood. I willed myself out of sleep, cracking my eyes. I saw sunlight and knew Sersha hadn’t bothered taking me back down to the dungeons. What was the point? I wasn’t a threat to anyone in this state.
My eyelids slammed shut as the floodgates of pain opened and my teeth clenched. Cool air touched my flayed skin. My stomach rolled, recalling how Dolan had broken my left leg, just below the knee, then did the same to the right—all because I didn’t cry.
That was always his master’s instruction, to keep going until I cried. I was ashamed of the times he’d successfully forced me to produce sound just to make him go away so I could rest. Yesterday was different. Sersha had watched, manically shouting orders to her lackey, growing more and more irate. She didn’t realize that crying took energy and I had none left.
It had been the worst session yet. Sersha finally reached her wit’s end, ordering my wounds to be salted. She’d said she wanted me scarred. I thought she was bluffing, believing I’d cave at the idea of living with the marks of my torture for the rest of my life.
When Dolan brought the halite granules over to the table, it was the first time I’d felt actual fear. Not because of the effects the rock salt would have on my skin. Rather, I knew if she marred my body beyond healing, she’d no longer have use for me to become Malcolm’s pretty little toy.
Broken toys got thrown away.
Liquid poured over my mutilated flesh and I gasped. My eyelids fluttered open. I was met with sharp green eyes under a canopy of wavy blonde hair.
Malcolm.
“There you are, pet,” he purred, stroking my head.
I recoiled instinctively, agony shooting down my spine. “I’m no one’s pet,” I croaked.
He grinned. “I like your spirit, Raveena. It’s very attractive.”
I failed to come up with an appropriate response. Malcolm returned to his task, humming quietly as he continued applying some sort of numbing balm to every place the whip had touched. His tune was peaceful, his touch gentle. Both were unwelcome.
I was completely nude and totally defenseless. Malcolm was the last person I wanted to be naked with. Though he’d been born Seelie, he’d corrupted his spirit over his many years of life. I didn’t want to know what he’d done to contaminate his soul.
I licked my lips, trying in vain to wet the cracked skin. “What are you doing?”
“Helping with the pain. Here, drink this.”
I eyed the cup he was offering.
“It’s only water. Nothing else.”
Awkwardly, I strained my neck to catch the water he carefully poured into my mouth. Streams dribbled down the side of my face and onto the table. He patted the spill with the cloth he was using to apply the medicine.
“Why are you helping me? Does … does the Queen know you’re here?” I asked hoarsely.
“Sersha was unexpectedly called away to deal with realm business. She has no need to know exactly where I am at the moment. I’ve taken care of the guards that were outside the door so don’t worry about them coming to move you back to your cell. As for the why, I see no sense in your continued suffering.”
His hand moved to the crease where my thigh met my buttocks. I tensed. The male’s face creased, his eyes filled with mirth. Yes, because this was such a humorous situation.
“That’s not all of it. Why are you really here?” I tried again.
“Can’t I be helping you out of the goodness of my heart?”
Malcolm’s tone was off. There was a bite to it. Tricky fae. The race couldn’t tell untruths but they could twist words and did so masterfully.
“No.”
